Romeo and Juliet / Ромео и Джульетта

Benvolio

And 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!

Enter Tybalt and others.

Benvolio

By my head, here comes the Capulets.

Mercutio

By my heel, I care not.

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, and you will give me occasion.

Mercutio

Could you not take some occasion without giving?

Tybalt

Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo.

Mercutio

Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? And 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 love 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 injur’d 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.

Mercutio

O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!

[Draws.] Alla stoccata carries it away.

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, 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.

Tybalt

[Drawing.] I am for you.

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

Forbid this bandying in Verona streets.

Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!

[Exeunt Tybalt with his Partizans.]

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.]

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