quarter. MERCUTIO. The pox of such antic lisping, affecting phantasies; these new tuners of accent. By Jesu, a very tall man, a very flower. LADY CAPULET. He shall not house with me. Go, sirrah, trudge about Through fair Verona; find those that shall. Scurvy knave! 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