DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

Romeo, Mr Garrick.
Escalus, Mr Bransby..
Paris, Mr Scrase.
Mountague, Mr Burton...
Capulet, Mr Berry.
Mercutio, Mr Woodward.
Benvolio, Mr Mozeen..
Tibalt, Mr Blakes.

Old Capulet, Mr Johnson.
Friar Lawrence, Mr Havard.

Friar John, Mr Jefferson.
Balthasar, Mr Ackman.
Gregory, Mr W. Vaughan..
Sampson, Mr Clough.
Abram, Mr Mare.

Juliet, Mrs Cibber.
Lady Capulet, Mrs Bennet.
Nurse, Mis Maklin.

Citizens of Verona, several men and women relations to Ca- pulet, maskers, guards, and other attendants.

The SCENE, in the beginning of the fifth Act is in Man-tua; during all the rest of the Play, in and near Verona..

GREGORY, I strike quickly, being moved.

Greg. But thou art not quickly mov'd to strike..

Sam. A dog of the house of Mountague moves me.
Greg. Draw thy tool then, for here come of that house..

Enter ABRAM and BALTHASAR.'

Sam. My neaked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back. thee, but- -Let us take the law of our sides: let them

begin.

Greg. I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list..

Sam.

Sam. Nay as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them, which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.

Abra. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?
Sam. I do bite my thumb, Sir.

Abra. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir.
Sam. Is the law on our side, if I say ay?
Greg. No.

Sam. No, Sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, Sir: but I bite my thumb, Sir.

Greg. Do you quarrel, Sir?

Abra. Quarrel, Sir? no, Sir.

Sam. If you do, Sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you.

Abra. No better, Sir.

Sam. Well, Sir.

Enter BENVOLIO.

Greg. Say better: here comes one of my master's kins

men.

Sam. Yes, better, Sir.

Abra. You lye.

Sam. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.

[They fight. Ben. Part, fools, put up your swords, you know not what you do.

Enter TIBALT.

Tib. What art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.

Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword,

Or manage it to part these men with me.

Tib. What drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word As I hate hell, all Mountagues and thee:

Have at thee, coward.

Enter three or four Citizens with clubs..

Offi. Clubs, bills, and partizans! strike, beat them down. Down with the Capulets, down with the Mountagues.

Enter Old CAPULET in his Gown.

Cap. What noise is this? give me my sword,
My sword, I say: old Mountague is come,
And flourishes his blade in spite of me.

Enter

go.

Enter Old Mountague.

Moun. Thou villain, Capulet-Hold me not, let me

Enter PRINCE with Attendants.

- Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
Profaners of your neighbour-stained steel

Will they not hear? what ho! you men! you beasts,
That quench the fire of your pernicious rage,
With purple fountains issuing from your veins;
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mis-temper'd weapons to the ground,
And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
Three civil broils, bred of an airy word,
By thee, old Capulet, and Mountague,
Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets;
And made Verona's ancient citizens
Cast by their great beseeming ornaments,
To wield old partizans in hands as old.
If ever you affright your'streets again,-
Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
For this time all the rest depart away.
You, Capulet, shall go along with me;
And Mountague, come you this afternoon
To know our father's pleasure in this case.
Once more on pain of death, all men depart.

[Exeunt Prince and Capulet, etc.

SCENE II.

Manent MOUNTAGUE and BENVOLIO.

Moun. W speak, nephew, were you by when it began ?

HO set this ancient quarrel now abroach?

Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary,
And yours, close fighting, ere I did approach;
I drew to part them: in the instant came
The fiery Tibalt, with his sword prepar'd,
Which as he breath'd defiance to my ears,
He swung about his head, and cut the winds:
While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,

Came

Came more and more, and fought on part and part, 'Till the prince came.

Moun. O where is Romeo? Saw you him to-day?
Right glad am I, he was not at this fray.

Ben. My lord, an hour before the worshipp'd sun
Peer'd through the golden window of the East,
A troubled mind drew me to walk abroad;
Where underneath the grove of sycamoor,
That westward rooteth from the city side,
So early walking did I see your son.
Tow'rds him I made, but he was 'ware of me,
And stole into the covert of a wood.
I, measuring his affections by my own,
(That most are busied when there most alone,)
Pursu'd my honour: nor pursuing him,
And gladly shun'd, who gladly fled from me.
Moun. Many a morning hath he there been seen
With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew;,
But all so soon as the all chearing sun

Shofid, in the farthest east, begin to draw
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed;
Away from light steals home my heavy son,
And private in his chamber pens himself;
Shuts up his windows, locks fair day-light out,
And makes himself an artificial night.

Black and portentous must this humour prove.
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
Moun. I neither know it, nor can learn it of him.
Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means?
Moun, Both by himself and many other friends;
But he his own affections' counsellor,

Is to himself, 1 will not say, how true :
But to himself so secret and so close,
So far from sounding and discovery,
As is the bud, but with an envious worm,
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.

Ben. So please you, Sir, Mercutio and myself
Are most near to him; be it that our years,
Statures, births, fortunes, studies, inclinations,
Measure the rule of his, I know not; but
Friendship still loves to sort him with his like.

1

We will attempt upon his privacy,

And could we learn from whence his sorrows grow,
We would as willingly give cure, as knowledge.
Moun. Twill bind us to you: good Benvolio, go.
Ben, We'll know his grievance, or be hard denied.
[Exeunt severally.

SCENE III.

Before CAPULET's House.

Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and a Servant.

Cap. A

For men so old as we to keep the

as

ND Mountague is bound as well as I,
In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard
peace.
Par. Of honourable reck'ning are you both,
And pity 'tis you liv'd at odds so long:
But now, my lord, What say you to my suit?
Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before,
My child is yet a stranger in the world,
She hath not seen the change of eighteen years;
Let two more summers wither in their pride,
Ere we may think her ripe to be a wife.

Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made.
Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early made:
The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes with her.
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart;
If she agree, within her scope of choice
Lies my consent; so woo her, gentle Paris.
This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
Whereto I have invited many a friend,
Such as I love, and you among the rest;
Once more most welcome!

Come

go with me. Go, sirrah, trudge about.

[To a Servant.

Through fair Verona; find those persons out,
Whose names are written there, and to them say,

My house and welcome on their pleasures stay. [Exeunt.

SCENE