Speeches (Lines) for Mercutio in "The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet"

Total: 62
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# Act, Scene, Line Speech text
1 I, 4, 509
  • Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
  • Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
  • Romeo. Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling;
    Being but heavy, I will bear the light.

    Mercutio. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.

2 I, 4, 513
  • You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
    And soar with them above a common bou...
  • You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
    And soar with them above a common bound.
  • Romeo. Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes
    With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead
    So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

    Mercutio. You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
    And soar with them above a common bound.

3 I, 4, 519
  • And, to sink in it, should you burden love;
    Too great oppression for a tende...
  • And, to sink in it, should you burden love;
    Too great oppression for a tender thing.
  • Romeo. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft
    To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,
    I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:
    Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

    Mercutio. And, to sink in it, should you burden love;
    Too great oppression for a tender thing.

4 I, 4, 523
  • If love be rough with you, be rough with love;
    Prick love for pricking, and...
  • If love be rough with you, be rough with love;
    Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
    Give me a case to put my visage in:
    A visor for a visor! what care I
    What curious eye doth quote deformities?
    Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.
  • Romeo. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,
    Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.

    Mercutio. If love be rough with you, be rough with love;
    Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
    Give me a case to put my visage in:
    A visor for a visor! what care I
    What curious eye doth quote deformities?
    Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.

5 I, 4, 536
  • Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word:
    If thou art dun, we'll draw...
  • Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word:
    If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire
    Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st
    Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!
  • Romeo. A torch for me: let wantons light of heart
    Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels,
    For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase;
    I'll be a candle-holder, and look on.
    The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.

    Mercutio. Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word:
    If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire
    Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st
    Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!

6 I, 4, 541
  • I mean, sir, in delay
    We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
    Ta...
  • I mean, sir, in delay
    We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
    Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
    Five times in that ere once in our five wits.
  • Romeo. Nay, that's not so.

    Mercutio. I mean, sir, in delay
    We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
    Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
    Five times in that ere once in our five wits.

7 I, 4, 547
  • Why, may one ask?
  • Why, may one ask?
  • Romeo. And we mean well in going to this mask;
    But 'tis no wit to go.

    Mercutio. Why, may one ask?

8 I, 4, 549
  • And so did I.
  • And so did I.
  • Romeo. I dream'd a dream to-night.

    Mercutio. And so did I.

9 I, 4, 551
  • That dreamers often lie.
  • That dreamers often lie.
  • Romeo. Well, what was yours?

    Mercutio. That dreamers often lie.

10 I, 4, 553
  • O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
    She is the fairies' midwife, an...
  • O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
    She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes
    In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
    On the fore-finger of an alderman,
    Drawn with a team of little atomies
    Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;
    Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs,
    The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,
    The traces of the smallest spider's web,
    The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,
    Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,
    Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,
    Not so big as a round little worm
    Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;
    Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut
    Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
    Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.
    And in this state she gallops night by night
    Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
    O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,
    O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees,
    O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream,
    Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
    Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:
    Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
    And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
    And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail
    Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep,
    Then dreams, he of another benefice:
    Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
    And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
    Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
    Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon
    Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
    And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two
    And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
    That plats the manes of horses in the night,
    And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,
    Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:
    This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
    That presses them and learns them first to bear,
    Making them women of good carriage:
    This is she--
  • Romeo. In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.

    Mercutio. O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
    She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes
    In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
    On the fore-finger of an alderman,
    Drawn with a team of little atomies
    Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;
    Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs,
    The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,
    The traces of the smallest spider's web,
    The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,
    Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,
    Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,
    Not so big as a round little worm
    Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;
    Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut
    Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
    Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.
    And in this state she gallops night by night
    Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
    O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,
    O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees,
    O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream,
    Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
    Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:
    Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
    And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
    And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail
    Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep,
    Then dreams, he of another benefice:
    Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
    And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
    Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
    Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon
    Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
    And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two
    And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
    That plats the manes of horses in the night,
    And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,
    Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:
    This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
    That presses them and learns them first to bear,
    Making them women of good carriage:
    This is she--

11 I, 4, 598
  • True, I talk of dreams,
    Which are the children of an idle brain,
    Begot o...
  • True, I talk of dreams,
    Which are the children of an idle brain,
    Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
    Which is as thin of substance as the air
    And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
    Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
    And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
    Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
  • Romeo. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
    Thou talk'st of nothing.

    Mercutio. True, I talk of dreams,
    Which are the children of an idle brain,
    Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
    Which is as thin of substance as the air
    And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
    Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
    And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
    Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.

12 II, 1, 801
  • He is wise;
    And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed.
  • He is wise;
    And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed.
  • Benvolio. Romeo! my cousin Romeo!

    Mercutio. He is wise;
    And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed.

13 II, 1, 805
  • Nay, I'll conjure too.
    Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
    Appear th...
  • Nay, I'll conjure too.
    Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
    Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh:
    Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;
    Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;'
    Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
    One nick-name for her purblind son and heir,
    Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,
    When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!
    He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;
    The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
    I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
    By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
    By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh
    And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
    That in thy likeness thou appear to us!
  • Benvolio. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall:
    Call, good Mercutio.

    Mercutio. Nay, I'll conjure too.
    Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
    Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh:
    Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;
    Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;'
    Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
    One nick-name for her purblind son and heir,
    Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,
    When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!
    He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;
    The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
    I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
    By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
    By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh
    And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
    That in thy likeness thou appear to us!

14 II, 1, 822
  • This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him
    To raise a spirit in his mistress'...
  • This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him
    To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle
    Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
    Till she had laid it and conjured it down;
    That were some spite: my invocation
    Is fair and honest, and in his mistress' name
    I conjure only but to raise up him.
  • Benvolio. And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.

    Mercutio. This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him
    To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle
    Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
    Till she had laid it and conjured it down;
    That were some spite: my invocation
    Is fair and honest, and in his mistress' name
    I conjure only but to raise up him.

15 II, 1, 832
  • If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
    Now will he sit under a medlar t...
  • If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
    Now will he sit under a medlar tree,
    And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
    As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.
    Romeo, that she were, O, that she were
    An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear!
    Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed;
    This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:
    Come, shall we go?
  • Benvolio. Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,
    To be consorted with the humorous night:
    Blind is his love and best befits the dark.

    Mercutio. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
    Now will he sit under a medlar tree,
    And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
    As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.
    Romeo, that she were, O, that she were
    An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear!
    Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed;
    This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:
    Come, shall we go?

16 II, 4, 1159
  • Where the devil should this Romeo be?
    Came he not home to-night?
  • Where the devil should this Romeo be?
    Came he not home to-night?
  • (stage directions). [Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO]

    Mercutio. Where the devil should this Romeo be?
    Came he not home to-night?

17 II, 4, 1162
  • Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline.
    Torments him so, that...
  • Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline.
    Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.
  • Benvolio. Not to his father's; I spoke with his man.

    Mercutio. Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline.
    Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.

18 II, 4, 1166
  • A challenge, on my life.
  • A challenge, on my life.
  • Benvolio. Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet,
    Hath sent a letter to his father's house.

    Mercutio. A challenge, on my life.

19 II, 4, 1168
  • Any man that can write may answer a letter.
  • Any man that can write may answer a letter.
  • Benvolio. Romeo will answer it.

    Mercutio. Any man that can write may answer a letter.

20 II, 4, 1171
  • Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a
    white wench's black eye;...
  • Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a
    white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a
    love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the
    blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to
    encounter Tybalt?
  • Benvolio. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he
    dares, being dared.

    Mercutio. Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a
    white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a
    love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the
    blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to
    encounter Tybalt?

21 II, 4, 1177
  • More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is
    the courageous captain of...
  • More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is
    the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as
    you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and
    proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and
    the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk
    button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the
    very first house, of the first and second cause:
    ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the
    hai!
  • Benvolio. Why, what is Tybalt?

    Mercutio. More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is
    the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as
    you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and
    proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and
    the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk
    button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the
    very first house, of the first and second cause:
    ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the
    hai!

22 II, 4, 1187
  • The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting
    fantasticoes; these new tuners of...
  • The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting
    fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu,
    a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good
    whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing,
    grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with
    these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these
    perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form,
    that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their
    bones, their bones!
  • Benvolio. The what?

    Mercutio. The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting
    fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu,
    a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good
    whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing,
    grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with
    these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these
    perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form,
    that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their
    bones, their bones!

23 II, 4, 1198
  • Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh,
    how art thou fishified!...
  • Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh,
    how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers
    that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a
    kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to
    be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy;
    Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey
    eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior
    Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation
    to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit
    fairly last night.
  • Benvolio. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.

    Mercutio. Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh,
    how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers
    that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a
    kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to
    be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy;
    Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey
    eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior
    Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation
    to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit
    fairly last night.

24 II, 4, 1209
  • The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive?
  • The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive?
  • Romeo. Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?

    Mercutio. The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive?

25 II, 4, 1212
  • That's as much as to say, such a case as yours
    constrains a man to bow in th...
  • That's as much as to say, such a case as yours
    constrains a man to bow in the hams.
  • Romeo. Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in
    such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.

    Mercutio. That's as much as to say, such a case as yours
    constrains a man to bow in the hams.

26 II, 4, 1215
  • Thou hast most kindly hit it.
  • Thou hast most kindly hit it.
  • Romeo. Meaning, to court'sy.

    Mercutio. Thou hast most kindly hit it.

27 II, 4, 1217
  • Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
  • Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
  • Romeo. A most courteous exposition.

    Mercutio. Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.

28 II, 4, 1219
  • Right.
  • Right.
  • Romeo. Pink for flower.

    Mercutio. Right.

29 II, 4, 1221
  • Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast
    worn out thy pump, that wh...
  • Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast
    worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it
    is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular.
  • Romeo. Why, then is my pump well flowered.

    Mercutio. Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast
    worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it
    is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular.

30 II, 4, 1226
  • Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.
  • Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.
  • Romeo. O single-soled jest, solely singular for the
    singleness.

    Mercutio. Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.

31 II, 4, 1228
  • Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have
    done, for thou hast more o...
  • Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have
    done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of
    thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five:
    was I with you there for the goose?
  • Romeo. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match.

    Mercutio. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have
    done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of
    thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five:
    was I with you there for the goose?

32 II, 4, 1234
  • I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
  • I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
  • Romeo. Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast
    not there for the goose.

    Mercutio. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.

33 II, 4, 1236
  • Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most
    sharp sauce.
  • Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most
    sharp sauce.
  • Romeo. Nay, good goose, bite not.

    Mercutio. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most
    sharp sauce.

34 II, 4, 1239
  • O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an
    inch narrow to an ell bro...
  • O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an
    inch narrow to an ell broad!
  • Romeo. And is it not well served in to a sweet goose?

    Mercutio. O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an
    inch narrow to an ell broad!

35 II, 4, 1243
  • Why, is not this better now than groaning for love?
    now art thou sociable, n...
  • Why, is not this better now than groaning for love?
    now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art
    thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature:
    for this drivelling love is like a great natural,
    that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole.
  • Romeo. I stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added
    to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.

    Mercutio. Why, is not this better now than groaning for love?
    now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art
    thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature:
    for this drivelling love is like a great natural,
    that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole.

36 II, 4, 1249
  • Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.
  • Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.
  • Benvolio. Stop there, stop there.

    Mercutio. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.

37 II, 4, 1251
  • O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short:
    for I was come to the whol...
  • O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short:
    for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and
    meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer.
  • Benvolio. Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.

    Mercutio. O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short:
    for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and
    meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer.

38 II, 4, 1256
  • A sail, a sail!
  • A sail, a sail!
  • (stage directions). [Enter Nurse and PETER]

    Mercutio. A sail, a sail!

39 II, 4, 1261
  • Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the
    fairer face.
  • Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the
    fairer face.
  • Nurse. My fan, Peter.

    Mercutio. Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the
    fairer face.

40 II, 4, 1264
  • God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.
  • God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.
  • Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen.

    Mercutio. God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.

41 II, 4, 1266
  • 'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the
    dial is now upon the pri...
  • 'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the
    dial is now upon the prick of noon.
  • Nurse. Is it good den?

    Mercutio. 'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the
    dial is now upon the prick of noon.

42 II, 4, 1278
  • Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith;
    wisely, wisely.
  • Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith;
    wisely, wisely.
  • Nurse. You say well.

    Mercutio. Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith;
    wisely, wisely.

43 II, 4, 1283
  • A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho!
  • A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho!
  • Benvolio. She will indite him to some supper.

    Mercutio. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho!

44 II, 4, 1285
  • No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie,
    that is something stale a...
  • No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie,
    that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent.
    [Sings]
    An old hare hoar,
    And an old hare hoar,
    Is very good meat in lent
    But a hare that is hoar
    Is too much for a score,
    When it hoars ere it be spent.
    Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll
    to dinner, thither.
  • Romeo. What hast thou found?

    Mercutio. No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie,
    that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent.
    [Sings]
    An old hare hoar,
    And an old hare hoar,
    Is very good meat in lent
    But a hare that is hoar
    Is too much for a score,
    When it hoars ere it be spent.
    Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll
    to dinner, thither.

45 II, 4, 1297
  • Farewell, ancient lady; farewell,
    [Singing]
    'lady, lady, lady.'
  • Farewell, ancient lady; farewell,
    [Singing]
    'lady, lady, lady.'
  • Romeo. I will follow you.

    Mercutio. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell,
    [Singing]
    'lady, lady, lady.'

46 III, 1, 1503
  • Thou art like one of those fellows that when he
    enters the confines of a tav...
  • 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. 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.

47 III, 1, 1509
  • Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as
    any in Italy, and as soon...
  • 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. 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.

48 III, 1, 1513
  • Nay, an there were two such, we should have none
    shortly, for one would kill...
  • 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. 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!

49 III, 1, 1531
  • The fee-simple! O simple!
  • The fee-simple! O simple!
  • 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!

50 III, 1, 1533
  • By my heel, I care not.
  • By my heel, I care not.
  • Benvolio. By my head, here come the Capulets.

    Mercutio. By my heel, I care not.

51 III, 1, 1537
  • And but one word with one of us? couple it with
    something; make it a word an...
  • And but one word with one of us? couple it with
    something; make it a word and a blow.
  • 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.

52 III, 1, 1541
  • Could you not take some occasion without giving?
  • Could you not take some occasion without giving?
  • 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?

53 III, 1, 1543
  • Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? an
    thou make minstrels of us, lo...
  • 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!
  • 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!

54 III, 1, 1551
  • Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;
    I will not budge for no man...
  • Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;
    I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.
  • 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.

55 III, 1, 1555
  • But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery:
    Marry, go before to field,...
  • 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. 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.'

56 III, 1, 1571
  • O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
    Alla stoccata carries it away.
    [...
  • O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
    Alla stoccata carries it away.
    [Draws]
    Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?
  • 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?

57 III, 1, 1576
  • Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine
    lives; that I mean to make b...
  • 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, drybeat 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. 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, drybeat 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.

58 III, 1, 1585
  • Come, sir, your passado.
  • Come, sir, your passado.
  • Romeo. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

    Mercutio. Come, sir, your passado.

59 III, 1, 1593
  • I am hurt.
    A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.
    Is he gone, and hath...
  • I am hurt.
    A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.
    Is he gone, and hath nothing?
  • (stage directions). [TYBALT under ROMEO's arm stabs MERCUTIO, and flies with his followers]

    Mercutio. I am hurt.
    A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.
    Is he gone, and hath nothing?

60 III, 1, 1597
  • Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.
    Where is my page? Go, vill...
  • Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.
    Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.
  • Benvolio. What, art thou hurt?

    Mercutio. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.
    Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.

61 III, 1, 1601
  • No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a
    church-door; but 'tis enoug...
  • No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a
    church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for
    me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I
    am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o'
    both your houses! 'Zounds, 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
    arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I
    was hurt under your arm.
  • Romeo. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.

    Mercutio. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a
    church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for
    me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I
    am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o'
    both your houses! 'Zounds, 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
    arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I
    was hurt under your arm.

62 III, 1, 1611
  • Help me into some house, Benvolio,
    Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your h...
  • Help me into some house, Benvolio,
    Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses!
    They have made worms' meat of me: I have it,
    And soundly too: your houses!
  • Romeo. I thought all for the best.

    Mercutio. Help me into some house, Benvolio,
    Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses!
    They have made worms' meat of me: I have it,
    And soundly too: your houses!

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