Romeo. Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.—
Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this [outrage]!
Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath
Forbid this [bandying] in Verona streets.
Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio! [Exeunt [Tybalt and his partisans].
Mercutio.I am hurt.
A plague o' both your houses! I am [sped].
Is he gone, and hath nothing?
Benvolio. What, art thou hurt?
Mercutio. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.—