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O calm, dishonorable, vile submission! Alla stoccata carries it away. Tybalt, will you walk?
I do protest I never injured thee, But love thee better than thou canst devise.
Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries that thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
His fault concludes but what the law should end; Tybalt's life.
And for that offense immediately we do exile him hence
I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give; Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.
Here's to my love. O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.
Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rust and let me die.
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