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Sam. Let us take the law of our fides, let them begin.

Greg. I will frown as I pafs by, and let them take it as they lift.

Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at
them, which is a difgrace to them if they bear it.
Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?
Sam, I do bite my thumb, Sir.

Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?
Sam. Is the law on our fide, if I fay, ay ?
Greg. No.

Sam. No, Sir, I do not bite
but I bite my thumb, Sir.
Greg. Do you quarrel, Sir?
Abr. Quarrel, Sir? no, Sir.

thumb at you, my

Sir:

Sam. If you do, Sir, I am for you; I ferve as good

2 man, as you,

Abr. No better.

Sam. Well, Sir.

3 Enter Benvolio.

Greg. Say, better. Here comes one of my mafter's kinfmen.

Sam. Yes, better, Sir.

Abr. Youlye.

Sam, Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember

thy fwashing blow.

[They fight.

Ben. Part, fools, put up your fwords, you know not what you do.

Enter Tybalt.

Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heartless

hinds?

Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.

3 Enter Benvolio.] Much of this fcene is added fince the firft edition but probably by Shake

3

Spear, fince we find it in that of the year 1599.

POPE.

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Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy fword, Or manage it to part thefe men with me.

Tyb. What drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word

As I hate hell, all Montagues and thee.

Have at thee, coward.

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[Fight

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Cit. Clubs, bills, and partifans! ftrike! beat them

down!

Down with the Capulets, down with the Montagues!

T

Enter old Capulet in his gown, and lady Capulet.

Cap. What noife is this give me my long fword, ho!

La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch. Why call you for a

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fword?

Cap. My fword, I fay old Montague is come.

And flourishes his blade in spight of me.

Enter old Montague, and Lady Montague.

Mon. Thou villain, Capulet

Hold me not,

let me go.

La. Mon. Thou shalt not ftir a foot to feek a foe.

Enter Prince with attendants.

Prin. Rebellious Subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour-ftained steelWill they not hear? what ho! you men, you beasts, That quench the fire of your pernicious rage

4 give me my long fword.] The in war, which was fometimes long ford was the fword ufed wielded with both hands.

With purple fountains iffuing from your veins;
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mis-temper'd weapons to the ground,
And hear the fentence of your moved Prince.
Three civil broils, bred of an airy word,
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,

Have thrice difturb'd the Quiet of our streets;
And made Verona's ancient Citizens

Caft by their grave, befeeming, ornaments;
To wield old partizans, in hands as old,
Cankred with peace, to part your cankred hate;
If ever you disturb our streets again,
Your lives fhall pay the forfeit of the peace.
For this time all the reft depart away,
You, Capulet, fhall go along with me;
And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
To know our further pleasure in this cafe,
To old Free-town, our common judgment place:
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.

[Exeunt Prince and Capulet, &c.

SCENE II.

La. Mon. Who fet this ancient quarrel new abroach; Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began? Ben. Here were the fervants of your adverfary, And yours, close fighting, ere I did approach; I drew to part them: In the instant came The fiery Tybalt, with his fword prepar'd, Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, He fwung about his head, and cut the winds, Who, nothing hurt withal, hifs'd him in fcorn, While we were interchanging thrufts and blows, Came more and more, and fought on part and part, 'Till the Prince came, who parted either Part.,

La. Mon. O where is Romeo! Saw you him to day? Right glad am I, he was not at this fray.

Ben.

Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd Sun
Peer'd through the golden window of the East,;
A troubled mind drew me to walk abroad,
Where underneath the grove of fycamour,
"That weftward rooteth from the City fide,
So early walking did I fee your fon.

Tow'rds him I made; but he was 'ware of me,
And stole into the covert of the wood.
I, measuring his affections by my own,
"That most are bufied when they're most alone,
Purfued my humour, not purfuing him;

And gladly fhun'd, who gladly fled from me.
Mon. Maný a morning hath he there been feen
With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew,
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep fighs;
But all fo foon as the all-chearing Sun
Should, in the furtheft Eaft, begin to draw
The fhady curtains from Aurora's bed;
Away from light steals home my heavy fon,
And private in his chamber pens himself,
Shuts up his windows, locks fair day-light out,
And makes himself an artificial night.
Black and portentous must this humour prove,
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause ? Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn it of him. 7 Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means? Mon. Both by myfelf and many other friends; But he, his own affections' counsellor,

5 That most are bufted, &c.] E-6 And gladly funn'd, &c.] The dition 1597 Inftead of which it is in the other editions thus.

-by my own. Which then moft fought, where mast might not be found, Being one too many by my weary Self, Purfued my bumour, &c. ForE.""

ten lines following, not in edition 1597, but in the next of 1599. POPE.

7 Ben. Have you importun'd, &c.] These two speeches alfo omitted in edition 1 1597. but inferted in 1 1599. POPE.

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Is to himself, I will not fay, how true,
But to himself fo fecret and fo clofe, i
So far from founding and difcovery,
As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the Air,
• Or dedicate his beauty to the Sun.

Could we but learn from whence his forrows grow,
We would as willingly give Cure, as know.

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Enter Romeo.

Ben. See, where he comes. So please you, step afide, I'll know his grievance, or be much deny❜d.

Mon. I would, thou wert fo happy by thy stay To hear true fhrift. Come, Madam, let's away.

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Rom. Ah me, fad hours feem long!

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[Exeunt.

-Was that my father that went hence fo faft?

Ben. It was... What fadnefs lengthens Romeo's hours? Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes then fhort.

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