Mercutio Alas poor Romeo! He is already dead, stabbed with a white wench's black eye, run through the ear with a love-song, the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft — and is he a man to encounter Tybalt? Read more about popup_note_index_item 4339
Benvolio Romeo will answer it. Mercutio Any man that can write may answer a letter. Read more about popup_note_index_item 4338
Mercutio If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. Now will he sit under a medlar tree, And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit As maids call medlars when they laugh alone. Romeo, that she were, O, that she were An open-arse, or thou a popp’rin pear! Read more about Act 2, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "O that she were an open-arse and thou a popp'rin pear"
Mercutio And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit As maids call medlars when they laugh alone. Read more about Act 2, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "medlars"
Capulet When well-apparelled April on the heel Of limping Winter treads — even such delight Among fresh fennel buds shall you this night Inherit at my house. Hear all, all see Read more about popup_note_index_item 4332
Romeo She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, To merit bliss by making me despair. Read more about popup_note_index_item 4331
