Now art thou what thou art

Mercutio stops -- for once in his life (afterlife?) -- and then sits on the bed again, rubbing his hands across his face. "Ay," he says after a long moment; thinking of Tybalt's kisses, the laughter he had managed to startle out of him, how much gentler he had seemed without the threat of a feud looming over them. "That was his duty, as Romeo's was to avenge me. Tybalt may be fiery and too bold¹, but he is a gentleman."

¹ Hello, pot, I have a kettle you should meet.