...for Mercutio's soul is but a little way above our heads, staying for thine to keep him company. Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.
And for that offence immediately we do exile him hence...Let Romeo hence in haste, else, when he is found, that hour is his last.
Ha, banishment? Be merciful, say 'death'...'Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here, where Juliet lives...
What, rouse thee, man! Thy Juliet is alive, for whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead. Tybalt would kill thee, but thou slowest Tybalt. The law, that threat'ned death, becomes thy friend and turns it to exile. There art thou happy.
I doubt it not
I must be gone and live, or stay and die. Farewell, farewell! One kiss, and I'll descend.
O, think'st thou we shall ever meet again?
Wilt thou be gone?
Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn the gallant, young, and noble gentleman, the county Paris...
Here comes your father. Tell him so yourself, and see how he will take it at your hands.
He shall not make me there a joyful bride! I will not marry yet; and when I do, I swear it shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, rather than Paris.
Disobedient wretch! I tell thee what- get thee to church a Thursday or never after look me in the face.
Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word.
O sweet my mother, cast me not away! Delay this marriage for a month, a week; or if you do not, make bridal bed in that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
God in heaven bless her! You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.