Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee Doth much excuse the appertaining rage To such a greeting. Villain am I none.
Now, Tybalt, take the "villain" back again That late thou gave'st me, for Mercutio's soul Is but a little way above our heads, Staying for thine to keep him company! Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him!
Romeo! The love I bear thee can afford No better term than this: Thou art a villain!
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! Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out!
I am for you.
I am hurt. A plague o' both [your]+ houses! I am sped.
Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!
And for that offence Immediately we do exile him hence.