By my heel, I care not.
By my head, here come the Capulets.
Gentlemen, good e'en. a word with one of you.
And but one word, with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow
I am for you.
Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?
Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
I am hurt. A plague o' both your houses! I am sped. Is he gone, and hath nothing?
Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.
This day's black fate on more days doth depend; This but begins the woe, others must end.
O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!
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