MERCUTIO: Unto what end? why, you and I are Statutory, as may be remembered in Some idle time: and now, to play some sport And, by the heat of this, our love and old Accord, to have a go.

BENVOLIO: Unarm, unarm! and put an end to this Your stout-rench’d wit, and, in no sense, is meet Or amiable: a hot-headed wretch, with wits Raucous as e’er I heard.

(Enter ROMEO)

MERCUTIO: By the stock and store, what are you two quarrelling?

FRIAR LAWRENCE: Romeo, come, come, come, and steal away, For this, but starts and my advice, hath A desperate course; and, if thou needs’t Be gone, for then the Prince and all his men Will, ere thou canst, get thee to Mantua.

TYBALT: What, dares the slave Come hither, cover’d with an antic face, To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, To strike him dead I hold it not a sin. (Enter JULIET and NURSE)

(Enter TYBALT)