BENVOLIO, I. 4, 7-8But let them measure us by what they will;We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.

ROMEO, I. 4, 12-14Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoesWith nimble soles: I have a soul of leadSo stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

MERCUTIO (di TYBALT), II. 3, 16…More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he isthe courageous captain of compliments. He fights asyou sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, andproportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, andthe third in your bosom: […]

TYBALD & MERCUTIO, III, 1,34TYBALT Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,--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!

ROMEO, III, 5, 17…

Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;I am content, so thou wilt have it so.I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye,'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beatThe vaulty heaven so high above our heads:I have more care to stay than will to go:Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day.

JULIET, III. 5, 26…It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away!It is the lark that sings so out of tune,Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.Some say the lark makes sweet division;This doth not so, for she divideth us:Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes,O, now I would they had changed voices too!