Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay; Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal Your high displeasure: all this uttered With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd, Could not take truce with the unruly spleen Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast, Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point, And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats Cold death aside, and with the other sends It back 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 fatal points, And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled; But by and by comes back to Romeo, Who had but newly entertain'd revenge, And to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain. And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly. This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay; Here is Tybalt, killed by Romeo;

Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal Your high displeasure: Romeo spoke nicely to him, tried to get him to realize how minor the problem was, and reminded him that you (the Prince) would be mad:

all this uttered With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd, Could not take truce with the unruly spleen Of Tybalt deaf to peace, all this said gently, calmly, and in a humble position couldn’t get hotheaded Tybalt to listen to his argument against fighting,

but that he tilts With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast, Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point, And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats Cold death aside, and with the other sends It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity, Retorts it: Instead he aims his sword at Mercutio’s chest, who is also all worked up, with a fighting attitude pushes aside the danger of Tybalt’s sword and aims his own at Tybalt, who pushes it aside easily:

Romeo he cries aloud, 'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and, swifter than his tongue, Romeo shouts out “Stop, you guys! Move away from each other!” and faster than he could speak,

His agile arm beats down their fatal points, And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life Of stout Mercutio, His quick arm pushes down their swords and he runs between them; underneath his arm Tybalt thrusts his sword and kills Mercutio,

and then Tybalt fled; But by and by comes back to Romeo, Who had but newly entertain'd revenge, Then Tybalt ran away; but quickly turned around to face Romeo, who is now suddenly thinking of revenge

And to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain. And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly. And they started fighting so fast that before I could pull out my own sword to stop them, Tybalt was killed. And when he died, Romeo ran away.

This is the truth, or let Benvolio die. Seriously. I swear. Hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.