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come what sorrow can,
It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
That one short minute gives me in her sight:
Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
Then love-devouring death do what he dare;
It is enough I may but call her mine. Friar Laurence

These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness
And in the taste confounds the appetite:
Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

Enter Juliet.

Here comes the lady: O, so light a foot
Will ne’er wear out the everlasting flint:
A lover may bestride the gossamer
That idles in the wanton summer air,
And yet not fall; so light is vanity.

Juliet Good even to my ghostly confessor. Friar Laurence Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. Juliet As much to him, else is his thanks too much. Romeo

Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heap’d like mine and that thy skill be more
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich music’s tongue
Unfold the imagined happiness that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.

Juliet

Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament:
They are but beggars that can count their worth;
But my true love is grown to such excess
I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.

Friar Laurence

Come, come with me, and we will make short work;
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
Till holy church incorporate two in one. Exeunt.

Act III Scene I

A public place.

Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, Page, and Servants. Benvolio

I pray thee, good Mercutio, let’s retire:
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl;
For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.

Mercutio 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. Benvolio Am I like such a fellow? Mercutio Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved. Benvolio And what to? Mercutio 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 fun 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! Benvolio 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. Mercutio The fee-simple! O simple! Benvolio By my head, here come the Capulets. Mercutio By my heel, I care not. Enter Tybalt and others. 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, an you will give me occasion. Mercutio Could you not take some occasion without giving? Tybalt Mercutio, thou consort’st with Romeo⁠— Mercutio 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! 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 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.”

Tybalt

Romeo, the hate 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 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 my own⁠—be satisfied.

Mercutio

O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
Alla stoccata carries it away. Draws.
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 pitcher by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out. Tybalt I am for you. Drawing. 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
Forbidden bandying

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