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 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? Ben. 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. Mer. The fee simple? O simple!1 Enter TYBALT and others. Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets. Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them. Gentlemen, good den; a word with one of you. Mer. And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow. Tyb. You will find me apt enough to that, sir, if you will give me occasion. Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving? Tyb. Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo, Mer. 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! Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men. Either withdraw into some private place, Or reason coldly of your grievances, Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us. 1 This and the foregoing speech have been added since the first quarto, with some few circumstances in the rest of the scene, as well as in the ensuing one. 2 Consort was the old term for a set or company of musicians. Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze; I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I. Enter ROMEO. Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir! Here comes my man. Mer. But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery! Marry, go before to the field, he'll be your follower; Your worship, in that sense, may call him-man. Tyb. Romeo, the hate I bear thee, can afford No better term than this-Thou art a villain. Rom. 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. Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries That thou hast done me; therefore turn, and draw. Rom. 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 mine own,-be satisfied. Mer. O calm, dishonorable, vile submission! A la stoccata carries it away. 1 Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? Tyb. What wouldst thou have with me? 2 [Draws. 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 3 by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out. Tyb. I am for you. 1 The Italian term for a thrust or stab with a rapier. 2 Alluding to his name. See Act ii. Sc. 4. [Drawing. 3 3 Warburton says, that we should read pilche, which signifies a coat or covering of skin or leather; meaning the scabbard. A pilche or leathern coat seems to have been the common dress of a carman. reads scabbard. The old copy [They fight. Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. Beat down their weapons.-Gentlemen, for shame The prince expressly hath forbid this bandying Mer. I am hurt ; A plague o' both the houses!-I am sped.— Ben. What, art thou hurt? Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough. Where is my page!-Go, villain, fetch a surgeon. [Exit Page. 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.1 I am peppered, I warrant, for this world.-A plague o' both your houses!-Zounds, 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 arithmetic!-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! I have it, and soundly too.-Your houses! 66 [Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIo. 1 After this, the quarto, 1597, continues Mercutio's speech as followsA pox o' both your houses! I shall be fairly mounted upon four men's shoulders for your house of the Montagues and the Capulets: and then some peasantly rogue, some sexton, some base slave, shall write my epitaph, that Tybalt came and broke the prince's laws, and Mercutio was slain for the first and second cause. Where's the surgeon? "Boy. He's come, sir. "Mer. Now he'll keep a mumbling in my guts on the other side.Come, Benvolio, lend me thy hand: a pox o'both your houses! " Rom. This gentleman, the prince's near ally, Re-enter BENVOLIO. Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead; That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. Rom. This day's black fate on more days doth depend;2 This but begins the woe, others must end. Re-enter TYBALT. Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. And fire-eyed fury be my conduct1 now!- Staying for thine to keep him company; Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him 1 We never use the verb aspire without some particle, as to and after. There are numerous ancient examples of a similar use of it with that in the text. 2 This day's unhappy destiny hangs over the days yet to come. There will yet be more mischief. 3 "Respective" is "considerative." 4 Conduct for conductor. The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. Stand not amazed;-the prince will doom thee death If thou art taken :-hence!-be gone!-away! Rom. O! I am fortune's fool! I Ben. Why dost thou stay? [Exit ROMEO. Enter Citizens, &c. 1 Cit. Which way ran he that killed Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? Ben. There lies that Tybalt. 1 Cit. Up, sir, go with me; I charge thee in the prince's name, obey. Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their wives, and others. Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray? Ben. O noble prince, I can discover all The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl. There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio. La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin!-O my brother's child! Unhappy sight! ah me, the blood is spilled Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay. Romeo, that spoke him fair, bade him bethink 3 How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal Your high displeasure.-All this-uttered With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bowedCould not take truce with the unruly spleen Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts 1 In the first quarto, "O! I am fortune's slave." 2 As thou art just and upright. 3 Nice here means silly, trifling, or wanton. |