Original Text |
Modern Text |
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20 |
MERCUTIO
Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou make minstrels
of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here’s my
fiddlestick. Here’s that shall make you dance. Zounds,
“consort”!
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MERCUTIO
“Hang out?” Who do you think we are,
musicians in a band? If we look like musicians to you, you can
expect to hear nothing but noise.
(touching
the blade of his sword)
This is my fiddlestick. I’ll use it to make you dance.
Goddammit—“Hang out!”
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BENVOLIO
We talk here in the public haunt of men.
Either withdraw unto some private place,
And reason coldly of your grievances,
Or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us.
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BENVOLIO
We’re talking here in a public place. Either go someplace
private, or talk it over rationally, or else just go away. Out here
everybody can see us.
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25 |
MERCUTIO
Men’s eyes were made to look and let them gaze.
I will not budge for no man’s pleasure, I.
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MERCUTIO
Men’s eyes were made to see things, so let them watch. I
won’t move to please anybody.
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Enter ROMEO
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ROMEO enters. |
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TYBALT
Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man.
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TYBALT
Well, may peace be with you. Here comes my man, the man
I’m looking for.
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30 |
MERCUTIO
But I’ll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery.
Marry, go before to field, he’ll be your follower.
Your worship in that sense may call him
“man.”
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MERCUTIO
He’s not your man. Alright, walk out into a field, and
he’ll chase you. In that sense you can call him your
“man.”
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TYBALT
Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford
No better term than this: thou art a villain.
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TYBALT
Romeo, there’s only one thing I can call you.
You’re a villain.
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35 |
ROMEO
Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting. Villain am I none.
Therefore, farewell. I see thou know’st me not.
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ROMEO
Tybalt, I have a reason to love you that lets me put aside the
rage I should feel and excuse that insult. I am no villain. So,
goodbye. I can tell that you don’t know who I am.
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TYBALT
Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me. Therefore turn and draw.
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TYBALT
Boy, your words can’t excuse the harm you’ve
done to me. So now turn and draw your sword.
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