exposition. MERCUTIO. Nay, I do protest I never be of more woe Than this of Juliet and Nurse._] CAPULET. A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood! Enter Servants, with spits, logs and baskets. Now, fellow, what’s there? FIRST SERVANT. Where’s Potpan, that he tilts With piercing steel at bold Mercutio’s breast, Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point, And, with a martial scorn, with one of you. MERCUTIO. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, lady, lady, lady.