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ACT III. SCENE I.
Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, and servants.
BEN VOLI 0.
Mer. 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 a second cup, draws it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.
Ben. Am I like such a fellow ?
Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as soon mov'd to be moody, and as soon moody to be mov’d.
Ben. And what to? Mer. '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, « hair less in his beard than thou haft: thou wilt quarrel with a ( man for cracking nutts, having no other reason, but because
thou hast basel eyes; what eye, but such an eye, would spy out • such a.quarrel : thy head is as full 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 quarrelld with a man for coughing in
• the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath · lain afleep 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 ribband? and yet thou wilt tutor me ' for quarrelling!
Ben. If 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. Mer. The fee-simple: O simple!
Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others.
Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
Mer. And but one word with one of us ? couple it with something, make it a word and a blow.
Tob. You shall find me apt enough to that, Sir, if you will give me occasion.
Mer. Could you not take fome occafion without giving?
Mer. Confort! what, dost thou make us ministrels! if thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. zounds! confort!
(Laying his hand on his sword.
Mer. But I'll be bang’d, Sir, if he wear your livery:
Tyb. Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford
Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee,
Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
Rom. I do proteft I never injur’d thee,
Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
Tyb. What wouldst thou have with me?
Mer. 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, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your Sword out of his pilcher by the ears ? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out. Tyb. I am for you.
Rom. Draw, Benvolio ---- beat down their weapons
the prince exprefly hath
[Exit Tybalt. 002
Mer. I am hurt -----
Ben. What, art thou hurt?
Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry 'tis enough. Where is my page? go, villain, fetch a surgeon.
Rom. Courage, man, the hurt cannot be much.
Mer. 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. I am pepper'd, I warrant, for this world: a plague of both your houses! What? a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death ? a braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetick? why the devil came you between us? I was hurt under your arm.
Rom. I thought all for the best.
Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio, Or I shall faint; a plague o’both your
houses! They have made worms meat of me, I have it, and soundly too
[Exe. Mer. Ben. SC EN E
Rom. This gentleman, the prince's near allie,
Rom. This day's black fate, on more days does depend,
Rom. · Alive? in triumph ? and Mercutio slain ?
Tyb. Thou wretched boy, that didst consort him here,
Rom. This shall determine that. [They fight, Tybalt falls.
Ben. Romeo, away, be gone:
Rom. O! I am fortune's fool.
[Exit Romeo. SCENE III.
Cit. Which way ran he that killid Mercutio ? Tybalt that murtherer, which way ran he?
Ben. There lyes that Tybalt.
Cit. Up Sir, go with me:
Enter Prince, Mountague, Capulet, their wives, &c.
· He gone in triumph.
b fire and fury.