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hath lain asleep in the fun. Didft thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Eafter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old ribband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

Ben. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-fimple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

Mer. The fee-fimple? O fimple!

Enter TYBALT, and Others.

Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets.
Mer. By my heel, I care not.

Tyb. Follow me close, for I will fpeak to them.Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you.

Mer. And but one word with one of us? Couple it with fomething; make it a word and a blow. Tyb. You will find me apt enough to that, fir, if you will give me occafion.

Mer. Could you not take fome occafion without giving?

Tyb. Mercutio, thou confort'ft with Romeo,Mer. Confort! what, doft thou make us minftrels an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but difcords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. 'Zounds, confort!

Ben. We talk here in the publick haunt of men: Either withdraw into fome private place, Or reafon coldly of your grievances,

Or elfe depart: here all eyes gaze on us.

Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;

I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Enter ROMEO.

Tyb. Well, peace be with you, fir! here comes

my man.

Mer. But I'll be hang'd, fir, if he wear your livery:

Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower;
Your worship, in that fenfe, may call him-man.
Tyb. Romeo, the hate I bear thee, can afford
No better term than this-Thou art a villain.
Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
Doth much excufe the appertaining rage
To fuch a greeting:-Villain am I none;
Therefore farewell; I fee, thou know'st me not.
Tyb. Boy, this fhall not excufe the injuries
That thou haft done me; therefore, turn, and draw.
Rom. I do proteft, I never injur'd thee;
But love thee better than thou canst devife,
Till thou shalt know the reafon of my love:
And fo, good Capulet,--which name I tender
As dearly as mine own,-be fatisfied.

Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile fubmiffion! A laftoccata carries it away.

[Draws.

Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?
Tyb. What would'ft thou have with me?

Mer. Good king of cats, nothing, but one of your nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and, as you fhall use me hereafter, dry-beat the reft of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? make hafte, left mine be about your ears ere it be out.

Tyb. I am for you.

[Drawing.
Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
Mer. Come, fir, your paffado. [They fight.
Rom. Draw, Benvolio;

Beat down their weapons ;-Gentlemen, for fhame
Forbear this outrage;-Tybalt-Mercutio-
The prince exprefsly hath forbid this bandying
InVerona ftreets:-hold, Tybalt ;-good Mercutio.
[Exeunt TYBALT and his Partizans,

Mer. I am hurt ;

A plague o' both the houfes!-I am sped:-
Is he gone, and hath nothing?

Ben.

What, art thou hurt? Mer. Ay, ay, a feratch, a feratch; marry, 'tis

enough.Where is my page?-go, villain, fetch a furgeon. [Exit Page.

Rom. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. Mer. No, 'tis not fo deep as a well, nor fo wide as a church-door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve: afk for me to-morrow, and you fhall find me a grave man. I am pepper'd, I warrant, for this world:-A plague o' both your houfes!-'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetick!-Why, the devil, came you between us? I was hurt under your arm. Rom. I thought all for the best.

Mer. Help me into fome houfe, Benvolio, Or I shall faint.-A plague o' both your houses! They have made worm's meat of me:

I have it, and foundly too:- -Your houses!

[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO.
Rom. This gentleman, the prince's near ally,
My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
In my behalf; my reputation ftain'd

With Tybalt's flander, Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my kinsman:-O fweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.

Re-enter BENVOLIO.

Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead;

That gallant fpirit hath afpir'd the clouds,
Which too untimely here did fcorn the earth,

Rom. This day's black fate on more days doth depend;

This but begins the woe, others must end.

Re-enter TYBALT.

Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. Rom. Alive! in triumph! and Mercutio flain! Away to heaven, refpective lenity,

And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now!—
Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again,
That late thou gav'ft me; for Mercutio's foul
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company;
Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.
Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didit confort him
here,

Shalt with him hence.

Rom.

This fhall determine that.

[They fight; TYBALT falls.

Ben. Romeo, away, be gone!

The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain:

Stand not amaz'd:-the prince will doom thee

death,

If thou art taken :-hence !-be gone!-away! Rom. O! I am fortune's fool!

Ben.

Why doft thou stay? [Exit ROMEO.

Enter Citizens, &c.

1 Cit. Which way ran he, that kill'd Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? Ben. There lies that Tybalt.

1 Cit.

Up, fir, go with me; I charge thee in the prince's name, obey.

Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their Wives, and Others.

Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray?

Ben. O noble prince, I can discover all
The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:
'There lies the man, flain by young Romeo,
That flew thy kinfman, brave Mercutio.

La. Cap. Tybalt, my coufin!-O my brother's child!

Unhappy fight! ah me, the blood is spill'd
Of my dear kinfman!-Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.-
O coufin, coufin! .

Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? Ben. Tybalt, here flain, whom Romeo's hand did flay;

Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal
Your high difpleafure:-All this—uttered
With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly
bow'd,-

Could not take truce with the unruly fpleen
Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts
With piercing fteel at bold Mercutio's breast;
Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,
And, with a martial fcorn, with one hand beats
Cold death afide, and with the other fends
It back to Tybalt, whofe 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 rufhes; underneath whofe arm
An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life
Of ftout 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 ftout Tybalt flain;

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