[Enter Tybalt and others.]
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 consortest 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.
TYBALT.
Well, peace be with you, sir. — Here comes my man.
