Benvolio.
I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire;
^{8 note}The day is hot, the Capulets abroad;
And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl;
For now these hot days is the mad blood stirring.

Mer.

Thou art like one of those fellows, that, when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table, and says, God send me no need of thee! and, by the operation of the second cup, draws it on the Drawer, when, indeed, there is no need.

Ben.

Am I like such a fellow?

Mer.

Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as soon mov'd to be moody, and as soon moody to be mov'd.

Ben.

And what to?

Mer.

Nay, an' there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hasel eyes; what eye, but such an eye, would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels, as an egg is full of meat; and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg, for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the Sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old ribband? and yet thou wilt tutor me for quarrelling!

Ben.

If I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

Mer.

The fee-simple? O simple!

Ben.

By my head, here come the Capulets.

Mer.

By my heel, I care not.

Tyb.
Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
Gentlemen, good-den, a word with one of you.

Mer.

And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something, make it a word and a blow.

Tyb.

You shall find me apt enough to that, Sir, if you will give me occasion.

Mer.

Could you not take some occasion without giving?

Tyb.

Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo—

Mer.

Consort! what dost thou make us minstrels! if thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here's my fiddlestick; here's that, shall make you dance. Come! consort!

Ben.
We talk here in the publick haunt of men:
Either withdraw into some private place,
Or reason coldly of your grievances,
Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.

Mer.
Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze.
I will not budge for no man's pleasure. I— Enter Romeo.

Tyb.
Well, peace be with you, Sir! here comes my man.

Mer.
But I'll be hang'd, Sir, if he wear your livery.
Marry, go first to field, he'll be your follower;
Your Worship in that sense may call him man.

Tyb.
Romeo, the love, I bear thee, can afford
No better term than this; thou art a villain.—

Rom.
Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a Greeting. Villain I am none,
Therefore, farewel. I see, thou know'st me not.

Tyb.
Boy, this shall not excuse the Injuries
That thou hast done me, therefore turn and draw.

Rom.
I do protest, I never injur'd thee,
But love thee better than thou canst devise;
'Till thou shalt know the reason of my love.
And so, good Capulet, whose name I tender
As dearly as my own, be satisfied.

Mer.
O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
Ah! la Stoccata carries it away.
Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?

Tyb.

What wouldst thou have with me?

Mer.

Good King of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives, that I mean to make bold withal; and as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. ^{9 note}Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.

Tyb.

I am for you.

Rom.

Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

Mer.

Come, Sir, your passado.