the quarrel is between our masters.
part, fools! you know not what you do!
put up your swords!
i do but keep the peace.
madam, underneath the grove of
so please you step aside. i'll know his grievance or be much denied.
good morrow, cousin.
but new struck, coz.
what sadness lengthens romeo's hours?
in love?
of love?
alas that love, so gentle in his view, should be so tyrannical and rough in proof!
no, coz, i rather weep.
tell me in sadness, who is it that you love.
i aimed so near when i supposed you loved.
rosaline! a right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
be ruled by me; forget to think of her.
by giving liberty unto thine eyes. examine other beauties.
i'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
take thou some new infection to thy eye.
and the rank poison of the old will die.
why, romeo, art thou mad?
at this same ancient feast of
every man betake him to his legs!
this wind you talk of blows us from
romeo! cousin romeo! romeo!
he ran this way. call, good mercutio.
not to his father's. i spoke with his man.
tybalt hath sent a letter to his father's house.
romeo will answer it?
nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he dares, being dared.
why, what is tybalt?
here comes romeo, here comes romeo!
she will endite him to some supper?
i pray thee, good mercutio, let's retire. the day is hot,
the capels are abroad. and if we meet we shall not 'scape a brawl.
by my head, here comes the capulets.
either withdraw unto some private place. or reason coldly of your grievances. here all eyes gaze on us.
art thou hurt?
mercutio is dead!
o noble prince i can discover all the unlucky manage of this fatal brawl.
there lies the man, slain by young romeo, that slew thy kinsman brave mercutio.
romeo, that spoke him fair, could not take truce with the unruly spleen of