Tyb. Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,

Mer. Consort! what dost thou make us minstrels! an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. 'Zounds, consort!

Ben. We talk here in the publick haunt of men : Either withdraw into some private place,

Or reason coldly of your grievances,

Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.

Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze; I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Enter ROMEO.

Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir! here comes my man. Mer. But I'll be hanged sir, if he wear your livery: Marry, go before 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 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! A la stoccata carries it away.

Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?

Tyb. What would'st thou have with me?

[Draws.

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 A la stoccata-] Stoccata is the Italian term for a thrust or stab with a rapier.-STEEVENS.

pluck your sword out of his pilcher 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 up.
Mer. Come, sir, your passado."

Rom. Draw, Benvolio;

[Drawing.

[They fight.

Beat down their weapons:-Gentlemen, for shame,
Forbear this outrage;-Tybalt-Mercutio-

The prince expressly hath forbid this bandying
In Verona streets-hold, Tybalt;-good Mercutio.

[Exeunt TYBALT and his Partizans.

Mer. I am hurt ;-
A plague o'both the houses!-I am sped:
Is he gone, and hath nothing?

What, art thou hurt?

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

[Exit Page. 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 : ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world:-A plague o'both your houses!-'Zounds, 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 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 gentlemen, the prince's near ally, My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt

In my behalf; my reputation stain'd

· pilcher-] Is here used for scabbard. A pilcher was a leathern coat worn

by carmen.-NARES.

· passado.] i. e. A motion forward, a term in the old art of fencing.-NARES.

With Tybalt's slander, Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my kinsman :-O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.

Re-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.

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

Re-enter TYBALT.

Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
Rom. Alive! in triumph! and Mercutio slain!
Away to heaven, respective 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;
Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.

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

Rom.

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. O! I am fortune's fool!

Ben.

Why dost thou stay?

[Exit ROMEO.

Enter Citizens, &c.

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

Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he!

b This day's black fate on more days doth depend ;] This day's unhappy destiny hangs over the days yet to come. There will yet be more mischief.-JOHNSON. respective lenity,] Cool, considerate gentleness.

d

conduct-] For conductor.

Up, sir, go with me;

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 brawl:
There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.

La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin!-O my brother's child! Unhappy sight! ah me, the blood is spill'd

Of my dear kinsman!-Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.-
O cousin, cousin!

Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?

Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay; Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink How nicef 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.

Prin.

And, for that offence,
Immediately we do exíle him hence:

I have an interest in your hates' proceeding,
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a bleeding;
But I'll amerces 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 this 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' mansion; such a waggoner As Phaeton would whip you to the west,

amerce,] i. e. Punish with a fine.