Tib. I am for you
Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy Rapier vp
Mer. Come sir, your Passado
Rom. Draw Benuolio, beat downe their weapons:
Gentlemen, for shame forbeare this outrage,
Tibalt, Mercutio, the Prince expresly hath
Forbidden bandying in Verona streetes.
Hold Tybalt, good Mercutio.
Exit Tybalt.
Mer. I am hurt.
A plague a both the Houses, I am sped:
Is he gone and hath nothing?
Ben. What art thou hurt?
Mer. I, I, a scratch, a scratch, marry 'tis inough,
Where is my Page? go Villaine fetch a Surgeon
Rom. Courage man, the hurt cannot be much
Mer. No: 'tis not so deepe as a well, nor so wide as a Church doore, but 'tis inough, 'twill serue: aske for me to morrow, and you shall find me a graue man. I am pepper'd I warrant, for this world: a plague a both your houses. What, a Dog, a Rat, a Mouse, a Cat to scratch a man to death: a Braggart, a Rogue, a Villaine, that fights by the booke of Arithmeticke, why the deu'le came you betweene vs? I was hurt vnder your arme
Rom. I thought all for the best
Mer. Helpe me into some house Benuolio,
Or I shall faint: a plague a both your houses.
They haue made wormesmeat of me,
I haue it, and soundly to your Houses.
Enter.