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Have we done aught amiss, show us wherein, And, from the place where you behold us now, The poor remainder of Andronici

Will, hand in hand, all headlong cast us down,
And on the ragged stones beat forth our brains,
And make a mutual closure of our house.
Speak, Romans, speak! and if you say we shall,
Lo! hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall. 136
Emil. Come, come, thou reverend man of

And bring our emperor gently in thy hand,
Lucius, our emperor; for well I know
The common voice do cry it shall be so.
Romans. Lucius, all hail! Rome's royal


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To heal Rome's harms, and wipe away her woe!
But, gentle people, give me aim awhile,
For nature puts me to a heavy task.
Stand all aloof; but, uncle, draw you near,
To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk. 152
O! take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips,
[Kisses TITUS.
These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd

The last true duties of thy noble son!

Mar. Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss, Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips: 157 O! were the sum of these that I should pay Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them. Luc. Come hither, boy; come, come, and learn of us 160 To melt in showers: thy grandsire lov'd thee well:

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I am no baby, I, that with base prayers
I should repent the evils I have done.
Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did
Would I perform, if I might have my will: 188
If one good deed in all my life I did,
I do repent it from my very soul.

Luc. Some loving friends convey the em-
peror hence,

And give him burial in his father's grave. 192
My father and Lavinia shall forthwith
Be closed in our household's monument.
As for that heinous tiger, Tamora,

No funeral rite, nor man in mournful weeds, 196
No mournful bell shall ring her burial;
But throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey.
Her life was beast-like, and devoid of pity;
And, being so, shall have like want of pity. 200
See justice done on Aaron, that damn'd Moor,
By whom our heavy haps had their beginning:
Then, afterwards, to order well the state,
That like events may ne'er it ruinate. [Exeunt.

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Ben. Part, fools! Put up your swords; you know not what you do. [Beats down their swords. Enter TYBALT.

Tyb. What! art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? 72

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.
Tyb. What! drawn, and talk of peace? I hate
the word,

As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee.
Have at thee, coward!


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Enter PRINCE with his Train.

Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,— 88 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 92
Throw your mis-temper'd weapons to the ground,
And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets,
And made Verona's ancient citizens
Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,
To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate.
If ever you disturb our streets again
Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
For this tire, all the rest depart away:
You, Capulet, shall go along with me;
And, Montague, come you this afternoon
To know our further pleasure in this case,
To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. 109
[Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MON-



TAGUE, and BENVOLIO. Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?

Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary

[They fight. And yours close fighting ere I did approach: 113

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Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
Where, underneath the grove of sycamore
That westward rooteth from the city's side, 128
So early walking did I see your son:
Towards him I made; but he was ware of me,
And stole into the covert of the wood:
I, measuring his affections by my own,
That most are busied when they're moзt alone,
Pursu'd my humour not pursuing his,
And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
Mon. Many a morning hath he there been



136 With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs:

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Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will.
Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was

Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here's much to do with hate, but more with

Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O any thing! of nothing first create.

140 O heavy lightness! serious vanity!

But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Should in the furthest 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 daylight 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?
Mon. I neither know it nor can learn of him.
Ben. Have you importun'd him by any


Mon. Both by myself and many other friends:
But he, his own affections' counsellor,
Is to himself, I will not say how true,
But to himself so secret and so close,

So far from sounding and discovery,

As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.




Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick

Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Dost thou not laugh?

No, coz, I rather weep. 188
Rom. Good heart, at what?
Ben. At thy good heart's oppression.
Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, 192
Which thou wilt propagate to have it press'd
With more of thine: this love that thou hast

Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs;
Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; 197
Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:
What is it else? a madness most discreet,

Could we but learn from whence his sorrows A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.


We would as willingly give cure as know.
Ben. See where he comes: so please you,
step aside;

I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.

Farewell, my coz.



Soft, I will go along;
An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
Rom. Tut! I have lost myself; I am not

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Ben. I aim'd so near when I suppos'd you lov'd.

Rom. A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love.

212 Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.

Rom. Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not
be hit

With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit;
And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, 216
From love's weak childish bow she lives un-

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Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early

Earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she,
She is the hopeful lady of my earth:
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
220 My will to her consent is but a part;
An she agree, within her scope of choice

She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold:
O! she is rich in beauty; only poor
That, when she dies, with beauty dies her Lies my consent and fair according voice.


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This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
Whereto I have invited many a guest
Such as I love; and you, among the store,
One more, most welcome, makes my number

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