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!
[A la 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
80your 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
[pilcher] 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.