of your nine lives; that I still will stay with thee, And never trouble Peter for the singleness! MERCUTIO. Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint. ROMEO. Swits and spurs, swits and spurs; or I’ll cry a match. MERCUTIO. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dined at home? JULIET. No, madam; we have wrought So worthy a gentleman to be bound by