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- This shall determine that.
- Thou wretched boy, that didst consort him here, Shalt with him hence.
- By my head, here comes the Capulets.
- Consort? what, dost thou make us minstrels? And thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords ...
- Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo.
- Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay. Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink. How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal ... Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts with piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast, who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point, and with a martial scorn, with one hand beats. Cold death aside, and with the other sends it back to Tybalt, whose dexterity retorts it. Romeo he cries aloud, 'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and swifter than his tongue, .. An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled; But by and by comes back to Romeo, who had byt newly entertain'd revenge, and to't they go like lightning, for, ere I could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain; And as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly. This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
- Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
- O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! 'Alla stoccata' carries it away. Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?
- I am for you.
- Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!
- Thus day's black fate on moe dayd doth depend, This but begins the woe others must end.
- O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio is dead. That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds, Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
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