Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting :-Villain am I none;
Therefore, farewell; I see thou know'st me not.
Tyb. 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 canst devise,
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love:
And so, good Capulet,—which name I tender
As dearly as mine own,-be satisfied.
Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
Alla stoccata a carries it away.
Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?
Tyb. What wouldst 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 shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher b by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.
Tyb. I am for you.
Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier
Mer. Come, sir, your passado.
Rom. Draw, Benvolio. Beat down their weapons.
Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage;
Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath
Forbidden bandying in Verona streets.
Hold Tybalt-good Mercutio
[Exeunt TYBALT and his Partisans.
A plague o' both the houses!-I am sped:
Is he gone, and hath nothing?
a Alla stoccata-the Italian term of art for the thrust with a
Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 't is
Where is my page?-go, villain, fetch a surgeon.
[Exit Page.
Rom. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.
Mer. No, 't is not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a
church door; but 't is enough, 't will serve ask for me
to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man.
I am
peppered, I warrant, for this world.-A plague o' 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 worm's meat of me:
I have it, and soundly 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 stain'd
With Tybalt's slander, Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my cousin.-O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.
Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead; That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
Rom. This day's black fate on more days doth depend;
This but begins the woe, others must end.
Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
Rom. Alive! in triumph! and Mercutio slain !
Away to heaven, respective lenity,
And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now!-
Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again,
That late thou gav'st me; for Mercutio's soul
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 didst consort him here,
This shall 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. Oh! I am fortune's fool!
Why dost thou stay? [Exit Roм.
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.
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 braw]:
There lies the man slain by young Romeo,
That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child! O prince, O cousin,-husband, the blood is spill'd
Of my dear kinsman!-Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.
Prin. Benvolio, who began this fray?
Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay;
Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd 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.
La. Cap. He is a kinsman to the Montague,
Affection makes him false, he speaks not true:
Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
And all those twenty could but kill one life:
I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give ;
Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live,
Prin. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio;
Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
Mon. Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend; His fault concludes but, what the law should end, The life of Tybalt.
And for that offence,
Immediately we do exile him hence:
I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a bleeding;
But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine,
That you shall all repent the loss of mine:
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;
Nor tears, nor prayers, shall purchase out abuses,
Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste,
Else, when he 's found, that hour is his last.
Bear hence his body, and attend our will:
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.—A Room in Capulet's House.
Enter JULIET.
Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phoebus' lodging; such a waggoner
As Phaeton would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately.-
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night!
That, unawares, eyes may wink; and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalk'd of, and unseen!-
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
By their own beauties: or, if love be blind,
It best agrees with night.-Come, civil night,
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
And learn me how to lose a winning match,
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:
Hood my unmann'da blood bating in my cheeks,
With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold,
Think true love acted, simple modesty.
& Unmann'd. A term of falconry. To man a hawk is to accustom her to the falconer who trains her.
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