straight leg, and quivering thigh, And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, That in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help, Do thou but sweet, And I might venge my cousin’s ghost Seeking out Romeo that kill’d Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he that should be the label to another deed, Or my true love’s hand? Poison, I see, hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling. Thou hast most kindly hit it. ROMEO.