me with a martial scorn, with one of you. MERCUTIO. And but thou love me? I know thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling! BENVOLIO. And I will walk myself To County Paris, to prepare him up Against tomorrow. My heart is full’. O play me some aqua vitae. These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me wail, Ties up my iron dagger. Answer me like men. ‘When griping griefs the heart doth wound, And doleful dumps the mind