lll.l 57-91
Storyboard Text
- But I’ll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery.Marry, go before to field, he’ll be your follower.Your Worship in that sense may call him “man.”
- Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man.
- I do protest I never injured theeBut love thee better than thou canst deviseTill thou shalt know the reason of my love.And so, good Capulet, which name I tenderAs dearly as mine own, be satisfied.
- Boy, this shall not excuse the injuriesThat thou hast done me. Therefore turn and draw.
- O calm, dishonorable, vile submission!Alla stoccato carries it away.Tybalt, you ratcatcher, will you walk?
- What wouldst thou have with me?
- Good king of cats, nothing but one of yournine lives, that I mean to make bold withal, and, asyou shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcherby the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about yourears ere it be out.
- Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up
- Come sir, you passado
- I am for you
- Draw, Benvolio, beat down their weapons.Gentlemen, for shame forbear this outrage!Tybalt! Mercutio! The Prince expressly hathForbid this bandying in Verona streets.Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!
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