ACT III. SCENE I

The Street.

Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, and fervants.

BENVOLI O.

Pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire,
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
And if we meet, we fhall not scape a brawl;
For now these hot days is the mad blood stirring.

Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows, that when he enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword upon the table, and says, God fend 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 fuch a fellow?

Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as foon mov'd to be moody, and as soon moody to be mov❜d.

Ben. And what to?

Mer. Nay, an there were two fuch, we should have none fhortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair lefs in his beard than thou haft: thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nutts, having no other reason, but because thou hast hafel eyes; what eye, but fuch an eye, would fpy out fuch a quarrel? thy head is as full of quarrels, as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrell'd with a man for coughing in VOL. VI.

the

the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain afleep in the fun. Didft thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Eafter? with another, for tying his new fhoes with old ribband? 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-fimple of my life for an hour and a quarter. Mer. The fee-fimple? O fimple!

Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others.

Ben. By my head here come the Capulets.

Mer. By my heel I care not.

Tyb. Follow me close, 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.

Tyb. You shall find me apt enough to that, Sir, 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 minstrels! if thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but difcords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that fhall make confort!

you dance.

zounds!

[Laying his hand on his fword.

Ben. We talk here in the publick haunt of men:

Either withdraw unto some private place,

Or reafon coldly of your grievances,

Or elfe depart; here all eyes gaze on us.

Mer. Mens eyes were made to look, and let them gaze,

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

Enter Romeo.

Tyb. Well, peace be with you, Sir, here comes my man.

Mer.

Mer. But I'll be hang'd, Sir, if he wear your livery:
Marry go first to field, he'll be your follower,
Your worship in that sense 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 excuse the appertaining rage
To fuch a greeting: villain I am none,
Therefore farewel, I fee thou know'st me not.
Tyb. Boy, this fhall not excuse the injuries
That thou haft 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 fo good Capulet (which name I tender

As dearly as my own,) be fatisfied.

Mer. O calm, difhonourable, vile fubmiffion! Alla ftucatho 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 by the ears? Make hafte, left mine be about your ears ere it be out.

Tyb. I am for you.

Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

Mer. Come, Sir, your paffado.

[Drawing.

[Mer. and Tyb. fight.

Rom. Draw, Benvolio ---- beat down their weapons-

Gentlemen ----- for shame forbear this outrage

Tybalt ----- Mercutio the prince exprefly hath

Forbidden bandying in Verona streets.

Hold Tybalt

good Mercutio.

002

[Exit Tybalt.

Mer.

Mer. I am hurt---

A plague of both the houses! I am fped:

Is he gone, and hath nothing?

Ben. What, art thou hurt?

Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry 'tis enough. Where is my page? go, villain, fetch a surgeon.

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 ferve: ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave-man. I am pepper'd, I warrant, for this world a plague of both your houfes! 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 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 house, Benvolio,

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

I have it, and foundly too

your houses.

[Exe. Mer. Ben.

Rom. This gentleman, the prince's near allie, 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 coufin: O fweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper softned valour's steel.

Enter Benvolio.

Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead, That gallant spirit hath afpir'd the clouds,

Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

Rom.

Rom. This day's black fate, on more days does depend, This but begins the woe, others must end.

Enter Tybalt.

Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.

Rom. Alive? in triumph? and Mercutio flain?
Away to heav'n refpective lenity,

And fire-ey'd 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:
Or thou or I, or both, must go with him.

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

Rom. This fhall determine that.
Ben. Romeo, away, be gone:

The citizens are up, and Tybalt flain

[They fight, Tybalt falls.

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 dost thou stay?

[Exit Romeo.

SCENE III.

Enter Citizens.

Cit. Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?

Tybalt that murtherer, which way ran he?
Ben. There lyes that Tybalt.

Cit. Up Sir, go with me:

I charge thee in the prince's name obey.

Enter Prince, Mountague, Capulet, their wives, &c. Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray?

a He gone in triumph.

b fire and fury.

Ben.