Mer. The Fee-simple? O simple. Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others.
Ben. By my head here comes the Capulets
Mer. By my heele I care not
Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speake to them. Gentlemen, Good den, a word with one of you
Mer. And but one word with one of vs? couple it with something, make it a word and a blow
Tib. You shall find me apt inough to that sir, and you will giue me occasion
Mercu. Could you not take some occasion without giuing? Tib. Mercutio thou consort'st with Romeo
Mer. Consort? what dost thou make vs Minstrels? & thou make Minstrels of vs, looke to heare nothing but discords: heere's my fiddlesticke, heere's that shall make you daunce. Come consort
Ben. We talke here in the publike haunt of men, Either withdraw vnto some priuate place, Or reason coldly of your greeuances: Or else depart, here all eies gaze on vs
Mer. Mens eyes were made to looke, and let them gaze. I will not budge for no mans pleasure I. Enter Romeo.
Tib. Well peace be with you sir, here comes my man
Mer. But Ile be hang'd sir if he weare your Liuery. Marry go before to field, heele be your follower, Your worship in that sense, may call him man
Tib. Romeo, the loue I beare thee, can affoord No better terme then this: Thou art a Villaine
Rom. Tibalt, the reason that I haue to loue thee, Doth much excuse the appertaining rage To such a greeting: Villaine am I none; Therefore farewell, I see thou know'st me not
Tib. Boy, this shall not excuse the iniuries That thou hast done me, therefore turne and draw
Rom. I do protest I neuer iniur'd thee, But lou'd thee better then thou can'st deuise: Till thou shalt know the reason of my loue, And so good Capulet, which name I tender As dearely as my owne, be satisfied
Mer. O calme, dishonourable, vile submission: Alla stucatho carries it away. Tybalt, you Rat-catcher, will you walke? Tib. What wouldst thou haue with me? Mer. Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine liues, that I meane to make bold withall, and as you shall vse me hereafter dry beate the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your Sword out of his Pilcher by the eares? Make hast, least mine be about your eares ere it be out
Tib. I am for you
Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy Rapier vp
Mer. Come sir, your Passado
Rom. Draw Benuolio, beat downe their weapons: Gentlemen, for shame forbeare this outrage, Tibalt, Mercutio, the Prince expresly hath Forbidden bandying in Verona streetes. Hold Tybalt, good Mercutio.
Exit Tybalt.
Mer. I am hurt. A plague a both the Houses, I am sped: Is he gone and hath nothing? Ben. What art thou hurt? Mer. I, I, a scratch, a scratch, marry 'tis inough, Where is my Page? go Villaine fetch a Surgeon
Rom. Courage man, the hurt cannot be much
Mer. No: 'tis not so deepe as a well, nor so wide as a Church doore, but 'tis inough, 'twill serue: aske for me to morrow, and you shall find me a graue man. I am pepper'd I warrant, for this world: a plague a both your houses. What, a Dog, a Rat, a Mouse, a Cat to scratch a man to death: a Braggart, a Rogue, a Villaine, that fights by the booke of Arithmeticke, why the deu'le came you betweene vs? I was hurt vnder your arme
Rom. I thought all for the best