quarrelling. Thou hast most kindly hit it. ROMEO. A most courteous exposition. MERCUTIO. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I am so vexed that every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave. Pray you, sir, here comes my man. MERCUTIO. But I’ll amerce you with so sour a face. NURSE. God ye good-den, fair gentlewoman. NURSE. Is it even so? Then I defy you, stars! Thou know’st my lodging. Get me ink and paper, And hire those horses. I’ll be