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68 ROMKO AND JULIET. an thou make minstrels of ns, look to hear nothing but discords : liere's my fiddlestick ; here's that shall make you dance. Zounds, consort ! Benvollo. We talk here in the public haunt of men. Either withdraw unto some private place, Or reason coldly of your grievances, Or else depart ; here all eyes gaze on ns. Mercutlo. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze ; I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I. Entei' RoMKO. Tyhalt. Well, peace be with you, sir; here comes my man. Mercutlo. '\^\\t I'll be hang'd, 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 hav^e 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. Ti/halt. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries That thou hast done me ; therefore turn and draT.- Bomeo. I do protest, 1 never injur'd thee, l)ut love thee better than thou canst devise,