Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your 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.
I am hurt. A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.Is he gone and hath nothing?
Oh, I have awful luck.
Romeo, get out of here. The citizens are around, and Tybalt is dead. Don’t stand there shocked. The Prince will give you the death penalty if you get caught. So get out of here!
As with a club, dash out my desperate brains? Oh, look! Methinks I see my cousin’s ghost Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body Upon a rapier’s point. Stay, Tybalt, stay!
I must wake you up. Lady! Lady! Lady! Oh no, oh no! Help, help! My lady’s dead! Oh curse the day that I was born! Ho! Get me some brandy! My lord! My lady!