I am hurt. A plague o' both your houses! I am spent. Is he gone, and hath nothing? Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough. Where is my page? Go villian, fetch a surgeon. No, 'tis enough, 'twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, And you shall find me a grave man. I am Peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague 'o both your houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! A braggart, a rouge, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic! (To Romeo) Why the devil cam you between us? I was hurt under your arm. Help me into some house, benvolio, Or I shall faint. A plague on both your houses! They have made worms meat of me: I have it, And soundly too. Your houses! (He dies)