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A public place. Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, armed with swords and

bucklers. Samp. Gregory, o'my word, we'll not carry coals. 1

Gre. No, for then we should be colliers.
Samp. I mean, an we be in choler, we 'll draw.

Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of the collar.

Samp. I strike quickly, being moved.
Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike.

Samp. A dog of the house of Montague moves me.

Gre. To move is to stir, and to be valiant is to stand to it: therefore, if thou art moved, thou runnest away.

Samp. A dog of that house sball move me to

" A phrase formerly in use to signify the bearing of injuries.

stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.

Gre. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall.

Samp. True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall.

Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us their men.

Samp. 'Tis all one; I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men I will be cruel with the maids ; I will cut off their heads.

Gre. The heads of the maids ?

Samp. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt.

Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it.

Samp. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand; and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh.

Gre. 'Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of the Montagues.

Enter ABRAM and BALTHASAR. Samp. My naked weapon is out: quarrel; I will back thee.

Gre. How? turn thy back, and run ?
Samp. Fear me not.
Gre. No, marry : I fear thee !

· Poor Johu is bake, dried and salted.

Abr. Do you

Samp. Let us take the law of our sides ; let them begin.

Gre. I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list.

Samp. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.

Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir ?
Samp. I do bite my thumb, sir.


thumb at us, sir ? Samp. Is the law on our side, if I say Ay? Gre. No.

Samp. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir.

Gre. Do you quarrel, sir?
Abr. Quarrel, sir ? no, sir.

Samp. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as good a '

man as you. Abr. No better. Samp. Well, sir.

Enter BENVOLIO, at a distance. Gre. Say, better; here comes one of my master's kinsmen.

Samp. Yes, better, sir.
Abr. You lie.

Samp. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remember the swashing 1 blow.

(they fight.

I Noisy.

Ben. Part, fools ; put up your swords : you know not what you do. [beats down their swords.

Enter TYBALT. Ty. What, art thou drawn among these heartless

hinds ? Turn thee, Benvolio; look upon thy death.

Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword, Or manage it to part these men with me. Ty. What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the

word, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: Have at thee, coward.

[they fight.

Enter several Partisans of both houses, who join the

fray; then enter CITIZENS, with clubs. i Cit. Clubs, bills, and partisans !1 strike! beat

them down! Down with the Capulets! down with the Mon

tagues !

Enter CAPULET, in his gown ; and LADY CAPULET. Cap. What noise is this ?—Give me my long

sword, ho! L. Cap. A crutch, a crutch !-Why call you for a

sword ? Cap. My sword, I say !-Old Montague is come,

" A bill is a battle-axe, and a partisan a kind of pike.

And florishes his blade in spite of me.


Mon. Thou villain, Capulet,---hold me not; let

me go.

L. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a


Enter PRINCE, with Attendants.

Prince. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbor-stained steel,Will they not hear?—what, ho! you men, you

beasts, That quench the fire of your pernicious rage With purple fountains issuing from your On pain of torture, from those bloody hands, Throw your mistemper'd 1 weapons to the ground, And hear the sentence of your moved prince. Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, Have thrice disturb’d the quiet of our streets ; And made Verona's ancient citizens Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, To wield old partisans, in hands as old, Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate. If ever you disturb our streets again, Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.


1 Angry.

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