Oh, down with Tybalt! Sword him into earth!
Never man has lived of such mean worth!
Stab him through the heart! Mix mud in’s his blood!
Grave him where he stands! A horizontal
Stick to stir no hate to fight for foul!
Now, down with Tybalt! He Mercutio hath slain
And he’ll not fame him sunlight in the rain,
But darkness that is darker than dark’s dark!
And so his name, in dimness of black infamy,
Will twist down tongues to dumbness ere it’s spoke
And every pen ‘twould write it break, be broke,
That ink, in horror, run away and dry
Before one written Tybalt meets one eye!
Oh, down with Tybalt! Tybalt, you will die!