Alive, in triumph! and Mercutio slain! Away to heaven, respective lenity, And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now!

Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio’s soul Is but a little way above our heads, Staying for thine to keep him company: Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.

Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here, Shalt with him hence.

Romeo, away, be gone! The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death, If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away!

Which way ran he that kill’d Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?

Up, sir, go with me; I charge thee in the princes name, obey.