Tybalt, still looking to punish Romeo for his appearance at the Capulets’ party, runs into Mercutio and Benvolio. He provokes Mercutio into a duel, while Benvolio tries to stop the fighting. Romeo enters, and Tybalt calls him a villain. Romeo, having just married Juliet (who is Tybalt’s cousin), swears he’s not, but Tybalt challenges him to draw. Mercutio draws first, then Tybalt, and they eventually fall to fighting. Romeo tries to break it up, but Tybalt reaches under Romeo’s arm and fatally stabs Mercutio, who curses the Montagues and the Capulets for their continuing feud. A grieving Romeo fights Tybalt and kills him. Knowing that he’ll face death if he stays in Verona, Romeo flees. The Prince, the Capulets, and the Montagues arrive. Benvolio explains what happened, and Lady Capulet calls for Romeo’s death. The Montagues argue their son was merely defending himself against an instigating Tybalt. The Prince strikes a compromise, saying that he’ll spare Romeo’s life, but that he must leave Verona forever.
Modern English:I think it would be a good idea to get out of the streets, Mercutio. When it’s as hot as this, people get easily provoked. There’s lots of Capulets about. I’m afraid that if we run into any of them, we’ll wind up in a fight.
You’re one of those guys who goes into a pub and takes his sword off saying, “I won’t be needing you.” But by the time your second drink is having an effect, you’ve drawn your sword on the bartender for no good reason.
Am I really like that?
You’re as hot-headed as any Italian. You get angry at the smallest provocation, or when you’re feeling angry already, you just look around for something to provoke you.
Provoked to what?
“Provoked two”? No, if there were two of you, there would quickly be none, since they would kill each other. You! Why you would quarrel with a man who has one more or one less hair in his beard than you do. You would quarrel with a man for cracking hazelnuts just because you have hazel eyes. You ask, “Am I really like that?” You are the “I” with an eye for finding quarrels.
Your brain is as full with quarrels as an egg is full of yolk, even after your brain’s been scrambled like an egg when you’ve been beaten up for fighting. You fought a guy because he coughed and woke up your dog when it was asleep in the sun. Didn’t you fight with the tailor for wearing his new jacket before Easter, and with another man for putting old laces in his new shoes? And yet you would lecture me about quarreling!
If I were as quick to get into a fight as you, any man should bet that my life will be short.
A bet! That’s silly.
I swear on my head, here come the Capulets.
I swear on my heel, I don’t give a damn.
[To his companions] Back me up, I’m going to talk to them. [To Benvolio and Mercutio] Gentlemen, good afternoon. I’d like a word with one of you.
Just one word with one of us? Why not add something to it? Make it a word and a blow.
You’ll find me ready enough for that, sir, if you will give me an excuse.
Can’t you take some excuse, instead of me giving you one?
Mercutio, you hang out with Romeo.
Hang out with him? Do you think we’re a musical group? If so, you’re only going to hear harsh notes from us.
[Pointing to his sword] Here’s the bow for my fiddle, it’ll make you dance. By God, “consort” you say!
We’re arguing out in public. Remember the Prince’s threat. Either let’s go to some private place where we can discuss your grievances calmly and rationally, or else go our separate ways. Here everyone's looking at us.
Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze. I will not budge for any man's preference.
[Enter Romeo]Well, goodbye, sir. Here comes my man.
Your man! I’d be hanged before he would put on the uniform of your manservants. You call him your servant, your follower. Go to the dueling field; he’ll be your “follower” then. He’ll follow you onto the field to give you a proper fight. In that sense, your worship may call him your “follower.”
Romeo, the nicest thing I can say about you is this: you’re a villain.
Tybalt, I have reason to love you, and that reason prevents the anger such a remark should provoke. I’m no villain. So goodbye, I see that you don’t really know me.
Boy, what you said won’t excuse the insults that you have given me. So turn around and draw your sword.
I insist, I have never insulted you, and actually have more love for you than you can guess until you understand the reason why. And so, good Capulet--a name I now must value as much as my own--be content with this.
Oh Romeo, what a dishonorable, cowardly surrender! Are you going to let his fancy-named fencing moves win the day? [Draws his sword] Tybalt, you rat catcher, will you have a go with me?
What do you want with me?
Good king of cats, I just want one of your nine lives, which I intend to abuse, and, depending on how you treat me, I may want to bash the other eight, too. Pluck your frightened sword out of its sack by the ears, and be quick about it or my sword will already be hitting you around the ears.
I’m ready for you.
Gentle Mercutio, lower your sword.
Come, sir, show me one of your fancy moves. Show me your passado.
Draw your sword, Benvolio, and beat down their weapons so they don’t strike each other. Gentlemen, for shame, stop this outrage! Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly forbade fighting in Verona streets. Stop, Tybalt! Stop good Mercutio!
[Tybalt under Romeo's arm stabs Mercutio, and runs away with his followers]I’ve been hurt. A curse on both your families! I’m done for. Has Tybalt taken off with no injury?
What, are you hurt?
It’s just a scratch, a little scratch, but it’s enough to do me in. Where’s my page? Go, fool, fetch a doctor.
Have courage, man, it can’t be a serious wound.
No, the wound’s not as deep as a well, nor as wide as a church-door, but it’s enough. It’ll do the job. Ask for me tomorrow, and you will find me a grave man. I am finished for this world. A plague on both your houses! My God, a mere dog, a rat, a mouse, or a cat can scratch a man to death! Some braggart, some rogue, some villain that fights by the book as if he’s solving arithmetic problems! Romeo, why the devil did you come between us? He stabbed me underneath your arm.
I was trying my best to help.
Help me into some house, Benvolio, or I’ll pass out. A plague on both your houses! They’ve made worms' meat of me. I’ve had it, for sure. A plague on your houses!
This gentleman, the prince's close relation, my true friend, has been mortally wounded on my behalf. My reputation has been tarnished by Tybalt's slander--Tybalt, who has been my relative by marriage for only an hour!
O sweet Juliet, your beauty has made me feminine, and has softened the hard steel of my nature.
O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead! His gallant spirit has climbed up to the clouds, having left the earth too soon.
We haven’t seen the end of the fallout from this awful, fateful day. This is just the beginning of a sorrow that future days will end.
Here comes angry Tybalt back again.
How can he be alive and triumphant and Mercutio’s killed? I’ve had enough of my considerate mercy, and now I will act with fiery fury! Now, Tybalt, take back what you said about me being a villain or else, for Mercutio’s soul has not yet flown far away, and it’s waiting for yours to keep him company. Either you or me, or both of us, must go with him.
You, you wretched boy that hung out with him here, you’ll go with him in the afterlife.
We’ll see about that.
Romeo, you have to get away, hurry! There are people around and Tybalt’s lying here dead. Don’t stand there stupefied. The prince will condemn you to death if you’re arrested. Go, get out, get away!
Oh, I’m fate’s toy!
What are you waiting for?
Which we did Mercutio’s killer run? Which way did Tybalt run, that murderer?
There lies that Tybalt.
Get up, sir, go with me. I charge you in the prince’s name to obey.
Where are the vile men who started this fight?
Oh noble prince, I can explain it all, everything that happened as a result of this fateful brawl. There’s the man Romeo killed, the one who slew Mercutio.
Tybalt, my nephew! Oh, my brother’s child! Oh Prince! Oh nephew! Oh husband! Oh the blood has been spilled! Oh my dear relative! Oh Prince, if you’re an honorable man, you must shed blood of the Montagues since they have shed ours. Oh nephew, nephew!
Benvolio, who started this bloody fight?
It was Tybalt, who lies here dead after Romeo killed him. Romeo spoke kindly to him, urged him to stop and think about how silly the fight was, and mentioned your official disapproval. Everything he said, with his calm expression, even voice, and humble posture, could not ease Tybalt’s anger, for Tybalt was deaf to talk of peace. Tybalt struck at Mercutio with his sword, and Mercutio, who was just as angry, met him in that fight. They fought with warlike pride. Tybalt held death at bay with one hand and Mercutio threatened him with death again in turn, but Tybalt nimbly pushed back.
Romeo cried out “Stop, friends!” and tried to bat down their swords faster than his own cry. He rushed between them, and underneath his arm, Tybalt fatally stabbed brave Mercutio, and then Tybalt ran off. He came back not much later for Romeo, who had just begun to think of revenge, and they went at it as quick as lightning. Before I could even draw my sword to break up the fight, stout-hearted Tybalt was killed, and as he fell to the ground Romeo turned and fled. This is the truth. I stake my life on it.
He’s a relative of the Montagues. Affection for them twists his words, he’s not telling the truth. There were twenty or so fighting in this dreadful quarrel, and Romeo was the only one who killed. I beg for justice, Prince. You must give us justice. Romeo killed Tybalt, so Romeo cannot live.
Romeo killed Tybalt, and Tybalt killed Mercutio. Who now will pay for Mercutio’s life?
Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mercutio’s friend. His transgression was killing Tybalt, but the law would have condemned Tybalt to death anyway.
And for the offense let him be immediately exiled. I am not indifferent to the outcome of your feud. My family lies bleeding because of your uncivilized brawls. I will punish you with such a heavy fine that you will all regret the loss of my kinsman, Mercutio. I will not hear any pleading or excuses. Neither tears nor prayers will lighten the punishment, so don’t try either. Let Romeo depart quickly, or else, if he’s found here, he’ll be put to death immediately. Bring in Mercutio’s body and obey me. Mercy only does harm when it pardons those who kill.