Greg. That fhewes thee a weake flaue, for the weakest goes

to the wall.

Samp. Tis true, and therefore women being the weaker vessels are euer thrust to the wall: therefore I will push Mountagues men from the wall, and thrust his maides to the wall.

Gré. The quarrell is betweene our masters, and vs their men. Samp. Tis all one I will fhew my felfe a tyrant, when I haue fought with the men, I will be ciuill+ with the maides, I will cut off their heads.

Grego. The heades of the maids.

Samp. I the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads, take it in what fence thou wilt.

Grego. They must take it * sense, that feele it.

Samp. Me they shall feele while I am able to stand, and tis knowne I am a pretty peece of flesh.

Grego. Tis well thou art not fish, if thou hadft, thou hadft been poore Iohn: draw thy toole here comes of the house of Mountagues.

Enter two other feruingmen.

Samp. My naked weapon is out, quarrell, I will back thee.

Gre. How, turne thy backe and runne;

Samp. Feare me not.

Gre. No marrie, I feare thee.

Samp. Let vs take the law of our fides, let them begin. Gre. I will frown as I paffe by, and let them take it as they lift.

Samp. Nay as they dare, I wil bite my thumb at them, which is a difgrace to them if they beare it.

Abra. Doe you bite your thumb at vs fir?
Samp. I doë bite my thumb fir.

Abra. Doc you bite your thumb at vs fir?

Samp. Is the law of our fide if I fay I?

Gre. No.

Samp. No fir, I doe not bite my thumbe at you fir, but I bite my thumbe fir.

Gre. Doe you quarrell fir?

Abra. Quarrell fir, no fir.

Sa. But if you doe fir, I am for you, I ferue as good a mā

as you.

Abra. No better.

Samp. Well fir.

Enter Benuolio.

Gre. Say better, here comes one of my maisters kinsmen. Samp. Yes better fir.

Abra. You lie.

Samp. Draw if you be men, Gregorie, remember thy washing blowe.

They fight.

Benu. Part fooles, put vp your fwords, you know not what you do.

Enter Tibalt.

Tibalt. What art thou drawne among these hartleffe hinds turne thee Benuolio, look vpon thy death.

Ben. I doe but keepe the peace, put vp thy fword,

or mannage it to part these men with me.

Tib. What drawne and talke of peace? I hate the word, as I hate hell, all Mountagues and thee:

Haue at the coward.

Enter three or foure citizens with clubs or partyfons. Offi. Clubs, billes and partifons, ftrike, beate them downe Downe with the Capulets, downe with the Mountagues.

Enter old Capulet in his gowne, and his wife.

Capu. What noyfe is this? giue me my long fword hoe,
Wife. A crowch, a crowch, why call you for a fword?
Cap. My fword I fay, old Mountague is come,
And florishes his blade in fpight of me.

Enter olde Mountague and his wife.

Moun. Thou villaine Capulet, hold me not, let me go.
M. wife. 2. Thou shalt not stir one foote to feeke a foe.

Enter prince Efkales, with his traine.

Prince. Rebellious fubiects enemies to peace,
Prophaners of this neighbour-stained steele,

Will they not heare? what ho, you men, you beafts:
That quench the fire of your pernicious rage,
With purple fountaines iffuing from your veines :
On paine of torture from those bloudy hands,
Throw your mistempered weapons to the ground,
And heare the fentence of your moued prince.
Three ciuill brawles bred of an ayrie word,
By thee old Capulet and Mountague,
Haue thrice disturbde the quiet of our streets,
And made Veronas auncient citizens,
Caft by their graue befeeming ornaments,
To wield old partizans, in hands as old,
Cancred with peace, to part your cancred hate,
If euer you disturbe our streets againe,
Your liues fhall pay the forfeit of the peace.
For this time all the reft depart away:
You Capulet fhall goe along with me,
And Mountague come you this afternoone,

Το

To know our fathers † plefure in this cafe:
To old Free-towne our common iudgment place:
Once more on paine of death, all men depart.

Exeunt.

Moun. Who fet this auncient quarrell new abroach?
Speake nephew, were you by, when it began ?
Ben. Here were the feruants of your aduerfarie
And yours clofe fighting ere I did approach,
I drew to part them, in the instant came
The fiery Tibalt, with his fword prepard,
Which as he breath'd defiance to my eares,
He fwong about his head and cut the windes,
Who nothing hurt withall, hist him in scorne:
While we were enterchanging thrusts and blowes,
Came more and more, and fought on part and part,
Till the prince came, who parted either part.
Wife. O where is Romeo, faw you him to day?
Right glad am I, he was not at this fray.

Ben. Madam, an houre before the worshipt fun,
Peerde forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind draue me to walke abroad,
Where vnderneath the groue of fyramour,
That weftward rooteth from this city fide:
So early walking did I fee your fonne,
Towards him I made, but he was ware of me,

And stole into the couert of the wood,

I measuring his affections by my owne,

Which then most fought, where most might not be found :

Being one too many by my weary felfe,

Pursued my honour ‡, not purfuing his,!

And gladly fhunned, who gladly fled from me.

Mount. Many a morning hath he there beene feene,

With teares augmenting the fresh mornings deaw,

tfuriber.

bumour.

F 4

Adding

Adding to cloudes, more cloudes with his deepe fighes,

But all fo foone as the all cheering funne,
Should in the farthest east begin to draw,
The fhadie curtaines from Auroras bed,
Away from light steales home my heauy fonne,
And priuate in his chamber pennes himselfe,
Shuts vp his windowes, lockes faire day-light out,
And makes himselfe an artificiall night,

Blacke and portendous must this humor proue,
Vnleffe good counsell may the cause remoue.

Ben. My noble vncle doe you know the cause?
Moun. I neither know it, nor can learne of him.
Ben. Haue you importunde him by any meanes?
Moun. Both by my felfe and many other friends,
But he his own affections counseller,

Is to himseife (I will not fay how true)
But to himselfe fo fecret and so close,

So farre from founding and difcouery,
As is the bud bit with an enuious worme,

Ere he can fpread his sweete leaues to the ayre,

Or dedicate his beauty to the fame.

Could we but learne from whence his forrowes grow,
We would as willingly give cure, as know.

Enter Romeo.

Benu. See where he comes, fo please you step aside, Ile know his greeuance or be much denide.

Moun. I would thou wert fo happy by thy ftay, To heare true shrift, come madam lets away.

Benuol. Good morrow coufin.

Romeo. Is the day fo young?

Ben. But new ftrooke nine.

Romeo. Ay me fad houres feeme long: Was that my father that went hence fo faft?

Exeunt.

Ben.