A public place.Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants BENVOLIO I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire:The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl;For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.MERCUTIO Thou art like one of those fellows that when he enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword upon the table and says 'God send me no need of thee!' and by the operation of the second cup draws it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.BENVOLIO Am I like such a fellow? MERCUTIO Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved.BENVOLIO And what to? MERCUTIO Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other.Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast:thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes:what eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel?
Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun:didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling! BENVOLIO An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.MERCUTIO The fee-simple! O simple! BENVOLIO By my head, here come the Capulets.MERCUTIO By my heel, I care not.
Enter TYBALT and others TYBALT Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you.MERCUTIO And but one word with one of us? couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.TYBALT You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me occasion.MERCUTIO Could you not take some occasion without giving? TYBALT Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,-- MERCUTIO Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels?
an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance.'Zounds, consort! BENVOLIO We talk here in the public haunt of men:Either withdraw unto some private place, And reason coldly of your grievances, Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.MERCUTIO Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.
Enter ROMEO TYBALT Well, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man.MERCUTIO But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery:Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower;Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.' TYBALT Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford No better term than this,--thou art a villain.ROMEO Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee Doth much excuse the appertaining rage To such a greeting: villain am I none;Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not.TYBALT Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.ROMEO I do protest, I never injured thee, But love thee better than thou canst devise, Till thou shalt know the reason of my love:And so, good Capulet,--which name I tender As dearly as my own,--be satisfied.MERCUTIO O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
Alla stoccata carries it away.
Draws Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? TYBALT What wouldst thou have with me? MERCUTIO Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as you shall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of the eight.Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.TYBALT I am for you.
Drawing ROMEO Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.MERCUTIO Come, sir, your passado.
They fight ROMEO Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.
Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage!
Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath Forbidden bandying in Verona streets:Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio!
TYBALT under ROMEO's arm stabs MERCUTIO, and flies with his followers MERCUTIO I am hurt.
A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.
Is he gone, and hath nothing? BENVOLIO What, art thou hurt? MERCUTIO Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.
Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.
Exit Page ROMEO Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.MERCUTIO No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man.
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