Romeo and Juliet / Ромео и Джульетта

Benvolio

I pray thee, good Mercutio, let’s retire:

The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,

And if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl,

For now these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.

Mercutio

Thou art like one of these fellows that, when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table, and says �God send me no need of thee!’ and by the operation of the second cup draws him on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.

Benvolio

Am I like such a fellow?

Mercutio

Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved.

Benvolio

And what to?

Mercutio

Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou? Why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling.

Thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with another for tying his new shoes with an old riband? And yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

Benvolio

And I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

Mercutio

The fee simple! O simple!

Enter Tybalt and others.

Benvolio

By my head, here comes the Capulets.

Mercutio

By my heel, I care not.

Tybalt

Follow me close, for I will speak to them.

Gentlemen, good-den: a word with one of you.

Mercutio

And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.

Tybalt

You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, and you will give me occasion.

Mercutio

Could you not take some occasion without giving?

Tybalt

Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo.

Mercutio

Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? And thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here’s my fiddlestick, here’s that shall make you dance. Zounds, consort!

Benvolio

We talk here in the public haunt of men.