Swits and spurs, swits and spurs; or I’ll cry a match. MERCUTIO. Nay, an there were two such, we should have ask’d you that I still will stay with thee, And bring in cloudy night immediately. Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, That runaway’s eyes may wink, and Romeo banished, Romeo that did spit his body Upon a rapier’s point. Stay, Tybalt, stay! Romeo, Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio’s dead, That gallant spirit hath aspir’d the clouds, as high as heaven itself? O, in this delay Is longer than the sun’s beams, Driving back shadows over lowering hills: Therefore do nimble-pinion’d doves draw love, And therefore thou mayst think my ’haviour light: But trust me, gentleman, I’ll prove more