Mer. And but one word with one of us? Couple it with fomething, make it a word and a blow.

Tyb. You fhall find me apt enough to that, Sir, if you will give me occafion.

Mer. Could you not take fome occafion without giving?

Tyb. Mercutio, thou confort'ft with Romeo

Mer. Confort! what doft thou make us minstrels! if thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but difcords. Here's my fiddleftick; here's that, fhall make you dance. Come! confort!

[Laying his band on his fword. Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men?? Either withdraw into fome private place, Or reafon coldly of your grievances, Or elfe 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 hang'd, Sir, if he wear your li

very.

Marry, go first to field, he'll be your follower :
Your Worship in that sense may call him man.
Tyb. Romeo, the love, 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 I am none,
Therefore, farewel. I fee, thou know'ft me not.

Tyb. Boy, this fhall not excuse the injuries
That thou haft done me, therefore turn and draw.

Rom.

Ram. I do proteft, I never injur'd thee, But love thee better than thou canst devife; 'Till thou shalt know the reafon of my love. And fo, good Capulet, whofe name I tender As dearly as my own, be fatisfied.

Mer. O calm, difhonourable, vile fubmiffion! Ah! la Stoccata carries it away.

Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk ?

Tyb. What wouldst thou have with me?

Mer. Good King of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives, that I mean to make bold withal; and as you fhall 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.

[Drawing. Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. Mer. Come, Sir, your paffado.

Mercutio and Tybalt fight. Rom. Draw, Benvolio, beat down their weaponsGentlemen for fhame, forbear this outrageTybalt-Mercutio-the Prince exprefly hath Forbidden bandying in Verona streets. Hold, Tybalt,good Mercutio. Mer. I am hurt—————

[Exit Tybalt.

A plague on both the houses! I am sped.

Is he gone, and hath nothing?

Ben. What, art thou hurt?

Mer. Ay, ay, a fcratch, a fcratch; marry, 'tis

enough.

Where is my page? go, villain, fetch a furgeon.
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 ferve. Afk for

9 Will you pluck your fword out of his PILCHER by the ears] We should read PILCHE, which

fignifies a cloke or coat of skins, meaning the fcabbard.

WARBURTON.

me to-morrow, and you fhall find me a grave mañ. I am pepper'd, I warrant, for this world. A plague on both your houses! What? 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 fome house, Benvolio,

Or I fhall faint. A plague on both your houses!
They have made worm's meat of me.

I have it, and foundly too. Plague o' your houses!

[Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio.

SCENE II.

Rom. This Gentleman, the Prince's near allie,
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 coufin. O fweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper foftned valour's fteel.

Enter Benvolio.

Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead : That gallant fpirit hath afpir'd the clouds, Which too untimely here did fcorn the earth. Rom. This day's black fate on more days does depend;

This but begins the woe, others must end.

▾ This da.'s black fate on more days does depend;] This day's unhappy destiny hangs over the

days yet to come.
yet be more mischief.

There will

Enter

Enter Tybalt.

Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. Rom. Alive? in Triumph? and Mercutio lain? Away to heav'n, refpective lenity,

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

Staying for thine to keep him company;

Or thou or 1, or both, muft go with him.

Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didft confort him here,

Shalt with him hence.

Rom. This fhall determine that.

[They fight, Tybalt falls.

Ben. Romeo, away. Begone:

The citizens are up, and Tybalt flain

Stand not amaz'd. The Prince will doom thee death,

If thou art taken. Hence. Begone.

2

Rom. Oh! I am fortune's fool.

Ben. Why doft thoụ stay?

SCENE III.

Enter Citizens.

Away.

[Exit Romeo.

Cit. Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?
Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?
Ben. There lies that Tybalt.

Cit. Up, Sir. Go with me.

1 charge thee in the Prince's name, obey.

Enter Prince, Montague, Capulet, their Wives, &c.

Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray ? Ben. O noble Prince, I can discover all Th❞ unlucky manage of this fatal brawl. There lies the man, flain by young Romeo, That flew thy kinfman, brave Mercutio.

La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!

Prince,

3

O-coufin-husband-O-the blood is fpill'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 fray?

Ben. Tybalt, here flain, whom Romeo's hand did nay;

Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink

* How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal
Your high difpleafure; all this uttered

With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd,
Could not take truce with the unruly fpleen
Of Tybalt, deaf to peace; but that he tilts
With piercing fteel at bold Mercutio's breast;
Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,
And with a martial fcorn, with one hand beats
Cold death afide, and with the other fends
It back to Tybalt, whofe dexterity
Retorts it. Romeo he cries aloud,