TYBALT
Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you.
MERCUTIO
And but one word with one of us? couple it with
something; make it a word and a blow.
TYBALT
You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you
will give me occasion.
MERCUTIO
Could you not take some occasion without giving?
TYBALT
Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,–
MERCUTIO
Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? an
thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but
discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall
make you dance. 'Zounds, consort!
BENVOLIO
We talk here in the public haunt of men:
Either withdraw unto some private place,
And reason coldly of your grievances,
Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.
MERCUTIO
Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;
I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.
Enter ROMEO
TYBALT
Well, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man.
MERCUTIO
But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery:
Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower;
Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.'
TYBALT
Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford
No better term than this, –thou art a villain.
ROMEO
Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting: villain am I none;
Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not.
TYBALT
Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.