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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 to Morrow, and you shall find me a Grave-Man. I am pepperd, I warrant, for this World: A Plague of both your Houses. What? a Dog, a Rät, a Mouse, a Cat to scratch a Man to Death; a Braggait, 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 Worms meat of me,
I have it, and soundly too your Houses. (Ex. Mer, Ben,

Rom. This Gentleman, the Prince's near Allie,
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: 0 sweet 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 aspir’d the Clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the Earth.

Rom. This Day's black Fate, on more Days does depend,
This but begins the Woe, others must end.

Enter Tybalt.
Bea. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.

Rom. Hegone in Triumph, and Mercutio Nain
Away to Heav'n refpe&ive Lenity,
And Fire and Fury be my Conduđ now:
Now, Tybalt, take the Villain back again,
That late thou gav'ft me; for Mercutio's Saul
Is but a little way above our Heads,
Staying for thine to keep him Company:
Either trou or I, or both must go with him.

Tjb. Thou wretched Boy, that didit confort him here,
Shale with him herce.
Rom. This shall determine that. [They fight, Tybalt falls.

Ben.

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Ben. Romeo, away, be gone:
The Citizens are up, and Tybalt Nain-
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 itay?

[Exit Romeo.
Enter Citizens.
Cit. Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio 3
Tybalt that Murtherer, which way ran he?

Ben. There lyts 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?

Ben. O Noble Prince I can discover all
The unlucky manage of this fatal Braul:
There lies the Man flain by young Romea,
That flew thy Kinsman brave Mercutio.

La. Cap. Tybalt my Cousin! O my Brother's Child,
O Prince, o Cousin, Husband, O the Blood is {pillid,
Of my dear Kinsman —Prince, as thou art true,
For Blood of ours, shed Blood of Mountague.
O Cousin, Cousin.

Prin. Benvolio, who began this Fray?

Ben. Tybalt here Slain, whom Romeo's hand did Slay:
Romeo that spoke him fair, bid 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 tiles
With piercing Steel as bold Mercutio's Breast,
Who all as hot, turns deadly Point to Point,
And with a mártial Scorn, with one hand beats
Cold Death afde, 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 able Arm beats down their fatal Points,
And twixt them rushcs, underneath whose Arm,
An envious thrust from Tybalt, hit the Life

Of

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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 e'er I
Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain;
And as he fell, did Romeo turn to Fly:
This is the Truth, or let Benvolio die.

La. Cap. He is a Kinsman to the Mountagues,
Affe dion makes him false, he speaks not true.
Some twenty of them fought in this black frife,
And all those twenty could but kill'one Life.
I beg for Justice, which thou Prnice must give:
Romeo New Tybalt, Romeo must not Live.

Prin. Romeo flew him, he flew Mercutio,
Who now the Price of his dear Blood doth owe.

La. Cap. 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 Exile him hence:
I have an Interest in your Hearts Proceeding,
My Blood for your rude Brawls doth lye 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 our abuses,
Therefore use none; let Romeo hence in hafte,
Else when he is found, that Hour is his last.
Bear hence this Body, and attend our Will:
Mercy but Murthers, pardoning those that Kill. [Exeunt,

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S C Ε Ν Ε ΙΙ.

An Apartment in Capulet's House.

Enter Juliet alone.
Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed Steeds,
Toward Phæbus lodging, such a Waggoner
As Phaeton would whip you to the West,
And bring in cloudy Night immediately.

Spread

Spread thy close Curtain, Love-performing night,
That run-aways Eyes may wink, and Romeo
Leap to these Arms, untalkt 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 fober-luted Matron, all in black,
And learn me how to lose a winning Match,
Plaid for a pair of stainless Maidenheads,
Hood my unmann'd Blood baiting in my Cheeks,
With thy black Mantle, 'till strange Love grown bold,
Thinks true Love aded simple Modesty:
Come Night, come Romeo, come thou Day in Night,
For thou wilt lye upon the Wings of Night,
Whiter than new Snow on a Raven's back:
Come gentle Night, come loving black-brow'd Night,
Give me my Romeo, and when I shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little Stars,
And he will make the Face of Heav'n so fine,
That all the World will be in love with Night,
And pay no Worship to the Garish Sun,
o I have bought the Mansion of a Love,
But not possess’d it, and though I am sold,
Not yet enjoy'd; so tedious is this Day,
As is the Night before some Festival,
To an impatient Child that hath new Robes,
And may not wear them. O here comes my Nurse!

Enter Nurse with Cords.
And the brings News, and every Tongue that speaks
But Romeo's Name, speaks Heav'nly Eloquence;
Now Nurse, what News? What bast thou there?
The Cords that Romeo bid thee ferch ?

Nur. Ay, ay, the Cords.

Jul. Ay me, what News?
Why dost thou wring thy Hands ?

Nur. A welady he's dead, he's dead,
We are undone, Lady, we are undone.
Alack the Day he's gone, he's killd, he's dead.

Jul. Can Heav'n be so envious ?

Nur. Romeo can,
Though Heav'n cannot. O Romeo! Romeo !

Who

Who ever would have thought it, Romeo ?

Jul. What Devil art thou, that dost torment me thus?
This Torture should be roar'd in dismal Hell.
Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou bur Ay;
And that bare Vowel Ay, shall poison more
That the Death-darting Eye of Cockatrice :
I am not I, if there be such an Ay,
Or those Eyes shot that makes the answer Ay,
If he be sain fay Ay, or if not, No.
Brief Sounds determine of my weal or woe.

Nur. I saw the Wound, I saw it with mine Eyes,
God save the Mark, here on his manly Breast,
A piteous Coarse, a bloody piteous Coarse;
Pale, pale as Alhes, all bedawbd in Blood,
All in gore Blood, I swooned at the fight.

Jul. O break my Heart-
Poor Bankrupt break at once;
To prison Eyes, ne'er look on Liberty,
Vile Earth to Earth refign, end motion here, ,
And thou and Romeo press one heavy Bier.

Nur. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best Friend I had:
O courteous Tybalt, honest Gentleman,
That ever I should live to see thee Dead.

Jul. What Storm is this that blows fo contrary?
Is Romeo Daughter'd? and is Tybalt dead?
My deareft Cousin, and my dearer Lord?
The dreadful Trumpet found the general Doom,
For who is living, if those two are gone?

Nur. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished,
Romeo that kill'd him, he iş banished.

Jal. O God!
Did Romeo's Hand shed Tybalt's Blood?

Nur. It did, it did, alas the day! it did.

Jul. O Serpent Heart, hid with a flowring Face,
Did ever Dragon keep so fair a Cave?
Beautiful Tyrant, Fiend Angelical,
Ravenous Dove, feather'd Raven,
Wolvilh-ravening Lamb,
Despised Substance of Divinest Show :
Just oppolite to what thou justly seem'ft,

A

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