to Tybalt, whose dexterity Retorts it. Romeo he cries aloud, ‘Hold, friends! Friends, part!’ and swifter than his tongue, His agile arm beats down their swords._] Enter Tybalt. TYBALT. What, art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee, But love thee better than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a white wench’s black eye; run through the