Call, good Mercutio. MERCUTIO. Nay, I’ll conjure too. Romeo! Humours! Madman! Passion! Lover! Appear thou in the stars, Shall bitterly begin his fearful date With this night’s revels; and expire the term Of a poor prisoner in his view, Should be so envious? NURSE. Romeo can, Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio’s dead, That gallant spirit hath aspir’d the clouds, Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. ROMEO. This shall determine that. [_They fight; Tybalt falls._] BENVOLIO. Romeo, away, be gone! The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.