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 fuch a greeting :-Villain am I none;
Therefore farewell; I fee, thou know'ft me not.
Tyb. Boy, this shall not excufe the injuries
That thou hast done me; therefore turn, and draw.
Rom. I do proteft, 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 mine own,-be fatisfied.

Mer. O calın, dishonourable, vile submission!
A la ftoccata carries it away.—

Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?

Tyb. What would'st thou have with me?

[Drazes.

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 fword 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, fir, your paffado.

Rom. Draw, Benvolio;

[drawing.

[They fight.

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

The prince exprefsly hath forbid this bandying

In Verona streets :-hold, Tybalt ;-good Mercutio. [Exeunt TYBALT and his Partizans.

Mer. I am hurt ;

A plague

A plague o' both the houses!-I am sped :—
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 furgeon.

I am pep

[Exit Page. 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 serve: ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man. per'd, I warrant, for this world :— —A plague o' both your · houses!-'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to fcratch 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 worm's meat of me :

I have it, and foundly 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 ftain'd
With Tybalt's flander, Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my kinsman :-O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper foften'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 flain!
Away to heaven, refpective lenity,

And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now!—
Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again,
That late thou gav'ft me; for Mercutio's foul
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company;

Either thou, or I, or both, muft go with him.

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

Rom.

This fhall 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?

Ben. There lies that Tybalt.

Up, fir,

go

1. Cit. I charge thee in the prince's name, obey.

Enter

Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their
Wives, and Others.

Prince. 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 flew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.

La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin!-O my brother's child!
Unhappy fight! ah me, the blood is spill'd
Of my dear kinfman!-Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours, fhed blood of Montague.-
O coufin, coufin !

Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?

Ben. Tybalt, here flain, whom Romeo's hand did flay;. 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 afide, and with the other fends
It back to Tybalt, whofe dexterity

Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,

Hold, friends! friends, part! and, fwifter 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 ftout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled :
But by and by comes back to Romeo,
Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,

E 3

And