MERCUTIO. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! [_Draws._] Alla stoccata carries it away. Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? TYBALT. What wouldst thou have with me? MERCUTIO. Good King of Cats, nothing but discords. Here’s my fiddlestick, here’s that shall make you dance. Zounds, consort! BENVOLIO. We talk here in dark to be gone. ROMEO. Let me