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Mer. And but one word with one of us ? Couple it with something, make it a word and a blow.
Tyb. You shall 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 confort'st with Romeo
Mer. Confort! what dost thou make us minstrels! if thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here's my fiddlestick; here's that, shall make you dance. Come! consort !
[Laying his hand on his sword. 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. Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them
gaze. I will not budge for no man's pleasure. I
Tyb. Well, peace be with you, Sir! here comes
my man. Mer. But I'll be hang’d, Sir, if he wear your li
very. Marry, go first to field, he'll be
your follower: Your Worship in that sense may call him man.
Tyb. Romeo, the love, 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 I am none, Therefore, farewel. 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 injur’d thee,
Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission !
Tyb. What wouldīt 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, left mine be about your ears ere it be out. Tyb. I am for you.
[Drawing Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. Mer. Come, Sir, your passado.
(Mercurio and Tybalt fight. Rom. Draw, Benvolio,-beat down their weaponsGentlemen--for shame, forbear this outrageTybalt - Mercutio--the Prince exprefly hath Forbidden bandying in Verona streets. Hold, Tybalt,
-good Mercutie. [Exit Tybalt.
Ben. What, art thou hurt?
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
9. Will you pluck your sword out fignifies a cloke or coat of skins, of his Pilcher toy the ears?] meaning the scabbard. We should read Pilche, which
me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man: I am pepper'd, I warrant, for this world. A plague on 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 on both your
houses! They have made worm's meat of me. I have it, and soundly too. Plague o'your houses !
[Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio.
Rom. This Gentleman, the Prince's near allie,
Ben, O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead :
· This da's black fate on more days yet to come. There will
days does aepend;] This day's yet be more mischief. unhappy deitiny bangs over the
Rom. Alive? in Triumph? and Mercutio Nain ?
(They fight, Tybalt falls.
Rom. ? Oh! I am fortune's fool.
Cit. Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio ?
Ben. There lies that Tybalt.
2 Ob! I am fortune's fool.] I play. Thou art death's fool: in am always running in the way Measure for Measure. See Dr. of evil fortune, like the fool in a Warburton's Nore. VOL. VIII, F
Cit. Up, Sir. Go with me.
Enter Prince, Montague, Capulet, ibeir Wives, &c.
Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
Ben. O noble Prince, I can discover all
dear kinsman. Prince, 3 as thou art true,
Prin. Benvolio, who began this fray ?
as 1 Dzu are true,] As thou petty. So in the last A&. art just and upright.
Í he letter was not nice, but 4 How nice the quarrel - ] How full of charge fight, how un mortant, how of diar import. 6