body, though they be not to be talked on, yet they are past compare: He is not the flower of courtesy,but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb.-Go thy ways, wench; serve God.-What, have you dined at home? Jul. No, no: But all this did I know before; What says he of our marriage? what of that? Nurse. Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I? It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. My back o't'other side,—O, my back, my back!— O, God's lady dear! Jul. Here's such a coil;-come, what says Romeo? Nurse. Then hie you hence to friar Laurence' cell, There stays a husband to make you a wife: Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, They'll be in scarlet straight at any news. Hie you to church; I must another way, To fetch a ladder, by the which your love Must climb a bird's nest soon, when it is dark: I am the drudge, and toil in your delight; But you shall bear the burden soon at night. Go, I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell. Jul. Hie to high fortune!-honest nurse, farewell. [Exeunt SCENE VI. FRIAR LAURENCE'S Cell. Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, Fri. These violent delights have violent ends, Here comes the lady:-O, so light a foot Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor. Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, [work; [Exeunt. SCENE 1. A public Place. Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants. And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl; 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 the second cup, draws it on the drawer, when, indeed, there is no need. Ben. Am I like such a fellow? and Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, as soon moody to be moved. 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, 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 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 suu. 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! Enter TYBALT and others. Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets. 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. 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 fiddle-stick; 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. 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 hang'd, 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. Tyb. Romeo, the hate I bear thee, can afford Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee Mer. O calmn, dishonourable, vile submission! Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? Tyb. What wouldst thou have with me? [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 by the ears? make haste, lest 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. Rom. Draw, Benvolio; [They fight. Beat down their weapons:-Gentlemen, for shame The prince expressly hath forbid this bandying 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. [Exit Page. Rom. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a |