SCENE. VI.

The MONASTERY.

Enter Friar LAURENCE and ROMEO.

Fri. That after-hours of sorrow chide us not!

O smile the heavens upon this holy act,

Rom. Amen, amen, but come what sorrow can,
It cannot countervail th' exchange of joy,
That one short minute gives me in her sight.
Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
Then love-devouring death do what he dare,
It is enough I may but call her mine.

Fri. These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die: like fire and powder:
Which as they meet consume. The sweetest honey
I loathsome in its own deliciousness,

And in the taste confounds the appetite :
Therefore love mod'rately.

Enter JULIET.

Here comes the lady. O so light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint;
A lover may bestride the gossamour,
That idles in the wanton summer air,
And yet not fall, so light is vanity.

Jul. God-even to my ghostly confessor.

Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
Rom. Ah Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heapt like mine, and that thy skill be more
To blazon it: then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
Unfold the imagin'd happiness, that both
Receive in either, by this dear encounter.

Jul. Conceit more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament.
They are but beggars that can court their worth;
But my true love is grown to such access,
I cannot sum up one half of my wealth.
Fri. Come, come with me;

For, by your leaves you shall not stay alone,
Till holy church incorp'rate two in one.

[Exeunt.

ACT.

I

The STREET.

Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, and Servants.

BENVOLIO.

PRAY thee good Mercutio, let's retire;

The day is hot, the Capulet's abroad; And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl.

Mer. Thou art like one of these fellows, that when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table, and says, God send me no need of thee; and by the operation of a second cup, draws it on the drawer when indeed, there is no need.

Ben. Am I like such a fellow?

Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; an' there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less in his head than thou hast thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason, but because thou hast hazel eyes; thou hast quarrel'd with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a taylor for wearing his new doublet before Easter; with another, for tying his shoes with old ribbands! and yet thou wilt tutor me for quarrelling!

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

Enter TIBALT, PETRUCHIO, and others.

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

Tib. Be near at hand, for I will speak to them:
Gentlemen, good den, a word with one of you.

Mer. And but one word with one of us? couple it with something, make it a word and a blow.

Tib. You shall find me apt enough to that Sir, if you will give me occasion.

Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving?

Tib. Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo. Mer. Consort? what dost thou make us minstrels ! if thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords: here's my fiddle-stick, here's that shall make you dance, zounds! consort? [Laying his hand on his sword. Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of man : Either withdraw into some private place,

Or reason coolly of your grievances,

Or else depart; here all eyes gazes on us.

Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze, I will not budge for one man's pleasure, I.

Enter ROMEO.

Tib. Well, peace be with you, Sir, here comes my man.
Mer. But I'll be hang'd, Sir, if he wear your livery.
Tib. Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford
No better term than this; thou art a villain.

Rom. Tibalt the reason that I have to love thee,
Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting: villain I am none,
Therefore farewell, I see thou know'st me not.
Tib. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries.
That thou hast done me, therefore turn and draw.
Rom. I do protest I never injur'd thee,.
But love thee better than thou cans't devise;
And so, good Capulet, (whose name I tender
As dearly as my own) be satisfied.

Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!

Ha! la stoccata carries it away-Tibalt-you rat-catcher. Tib. What would thou have with me?

Mer. Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives, that I mean to make bold withal: will you pluck your sword out of his pilchar by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears, ere it be out.

Tib. I am for you, Sir

Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

[Drawing.

'Mer. Come, Sir, your passado. [Mer. and Tib. fight. Rom. Draw, Benovolio-beat down their weaponsGentlemen-for shame forbear this outrage

Hold Tibalt, good Mercutio

Mer. I am hurt

A plague of both your houses! I am sped:
Is he gone, and hath nothing?

[Exit Tibalt.

Ben

Ben. What, art thou hurt?

Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch, marry, 'tis enough: Go, fetch a surgeon.

Rom, Courage, man, the hurt cannot be much.

Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but 'tis enough, 'twill serve: I am pepper'd, I warrant, for this world a plague of both your houses! -What? 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 arithmetic? why the devil came you between us? I was hurt under your arm.

Rom. I thought all for the best.

Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio,

Or I shall faint; a plague o' both your houses!
They have made worms meat of me,

I have it, and soundly too: plague o' both your houses!

[Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio.

SCENE II.

Rom. T My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt

HIS gentleman, the prince's near ally

In my behalf; my reputation's stain'd
With Tibalt's slander: O sweet Juliet !
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in thy temper softened valour's steel.

Enter BENVOLIO.

Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead,
That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

Enter TIBALT.

Ben. Here comes the furious Tibalt back again. Rom. Alive? in triumph? and Mercutio slain? Away to heav'n, respective lenity,

And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now!

Now, Tibalt, take the villain back again,

That late thou gav'st me: for Mercutio's soul

Is but a little way above our heads,

And thou or I must keep him company.

Tib. Thou wretched boy, that didst consort him here, Shalt with him hence,

Rom.

Rom. This shall determine that.

[They fight, Tibalt falls.

Ben. Romeo, away, begone;

The citizens are up, and Tibalt slain

Stand not amaz'd; the prince will doom thee death, Tet If thou art taken; hence, begone, away.

Rom. O! I am fortune's fool.

SCENE. III.

[Exit Romeo.

Enter PRINCE, MOUNTAGUE, CAPUTET, citizens, etc.

Prince.

WHERE are the vile beginners of this fray?
Ben. O noble prince, I can discover all

The unlucky manage of this fatal quarrel;
There lies the man slain by young Romeo,
That slew thy kinsman brave Mercutio.

Of

Cap. Unhappy sight! alas, the blood is spill'd
my dear kinsman- -Now as thou art a prince,
For blood of ours, shed blood of Mountague.
Prin. Benvolio, who began this fray?.

Ben. Tibalt, here slain;

Romeo bespoke him fair, bid him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal
Your high displeasure: all this uttered

With gentle breath, calm looks, knees humbly bow'd,
Could not make truce with the unruly spleen
Of Tibalt, 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 Tibalt, whose dexterity
Retorts; 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 Tibalt hit the life

Of stout Mercutio, and then Tibalt fled;
But by and by comes back to Romeo,
Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
And to't they go like lightening: for ere I
Could draw to part them, was stout Tibalt slain ;

And