Rom. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a churchdoor; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve: ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o' both your houses!-Zounds, 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 arithmetic!-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 worm's meat of me:

I have it, and soundly 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 stain'd
With Tybalt's slander,-Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my kinsman.-O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper soften'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.

Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.

Rom. Alive, in triumph! and Mercutio slain!

Away to heaven, respective lenity,

And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now!—

Re-enter TYBALT.

Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again

That late thou gav'st me; for Mercutio's soul
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company:
Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.

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

Rom.

This shall determine that.

[They fight; TYBALT falls.

Ben. Romeo, away, be gone!
The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.—

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

Ben. There lies that Tybalt.

1 Cit.

Up, sir, go with me;

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

Enter PRINCE, attended; MONtague, CapulET, their
Wives, and others.

Prin. 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 slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.

Lady C. Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!O prince!-O husband!-O, the blood is spill'd

Of my dear kinsman !—Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours shed blood of Montague.--
O cousin, cousin!

Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?

Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay;
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 aside, 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 agile arm beats down their fatal points,

And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm

An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life

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 ere I
Could draw to part them was stout Tybalt slain;
And as he fell did Romeo turn and fly.
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

Lady C. He is a kinsman to the Montague,
Affection makes him false, he speaks not true:
Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
And all those twenty could but kill one life.
I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give;
Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.

Prin. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio:
Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
Mon. 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 hate's proceeding,
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie 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 out abuses,
Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste,
Else when he's found, that hour is his last.
Bear hence this body, and attend our will:
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.

SCENE II.-A Room in CAPULET'S House.

Enter JULIET.

Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phoebus' lodging; such a waggoner
As Phaeton would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately.-
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night!
That rude day's eyes may wink, and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalk'd 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 sober-suited matron, all in black,
And learn me how to lose a winning match,
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:
Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,

[Exeunt.

With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold,
Think true love acted simple modesty.

Come, night; come, Romeo,-come, thou day in night;
For thou wilt lie 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 he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven 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,
And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks
But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.—

Jul. Ah me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands? Nurse. Ah, well-a-day! he 's dead, he's dead, he's dead!

We are undone, lady, we are undone !

Alack the day!-he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!

Jul. Can heaven be so envious?
Nurse.

Romeo can,

Though heaven cannot.-O Romeo, Romeo!

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 but I,
And that bare vowel I shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice:
I am not I if there be such an I;

Or those eyes shut that make thee answer I.
If he be slain, say I; or if not, no:

Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.

Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,-
God save the mark!-here on his manly breast:
A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;

Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,

All in gore-blood;-I swooned at the sight.

Jul. O, break, my heart!-poor bankrupt, break at once! To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty!

Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here;

And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!

Nurse. 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 so contrary?
Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead?
My dear-lov'd cousin and my dearer lord?—

Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!
For who is living if those two are gone?

Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;

Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.

Jul. O God!-did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood? Nurse. It did, it did; alas the day, it did!

Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?

Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!

Dove-feather'd raven! wolfish-ravening lamb!
Despised substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st
A damned saint, an honourable villain!-
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?-
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!

Nurse.
There's no trust,
No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur'd,

All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.

Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitæ.—
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
Shame come to Romeo!

Jul.

Blister'd be thy tongue

For such a wish! he was not born to shame:

Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit;

For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd
Sole monarch of the universal earth.

O, what a beast was I to chide at him!

Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin? Jul. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?

Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,