Mer. Come, sir, your passado.[767] [They fight.
Rom. Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.[768][769]
Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage![769]
Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath[769][770]
Forbid this bandying in Verona streets:[769][771][772][773] 85
Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio![769][772][774]
[Tybalt under Romeo's arm stabs Mercutio and flies with his followers.
Mer. I am hurt;[775]
A plague o' both your houses! I am sped:
Is he gone, and hath nothing?
Ben. What, art thou hurt?
Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.
Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.[776] 90
[Exit Page.
Rom. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.
Mer. 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[777] 95
houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a[778]
man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by
the book of arithmetic! Why the devil came you between[779]
us? I was hurt under your arm.
Rom. I thought all for the best. 100