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Scalus, Prince of Verona.
Paris, a young Nobleman in Love with Juliet,
mies to each other.
lations to Capulet, Maskers, Guards, and other
The SCENE, in the beginning of the Fifth A&t ,
is in Mantua ; during all the rest of the Play, in and near Verona.
Enter Sampson and Gregory, with Swords and Bucklers.
Greg. No, for then we should be Colliers.
Sam. I strike quickly, being mov'd.
Greg. To move, is to stir; and to be valiant, is to stand : Therefore, if thou art mov'd, thou runn'st away.
Sam. A Dog of that House shall move me to stand :
goes to the Wall. VOL. V. B 2
Sam. True, and therefore Women, being the weakest Vessels, are ever thrust to the Wall : therefore I will pulla Mountague's Men from the Wall, and thrust his Maids to the Wall.
Greg. The Quarrel is between our Masters, and us their Men.
Sam. 'Tis all one, I will fhew my self a Tyrant: when I have fought with the Men, I will be civil with the Maids and cut off their Heads.
Greg. The Heads of the Maids?
Sam. Ay, the Heads of the Maids, or their Maiden-heads, Take it in what sense thou wilt.
Greg. They must take it in sense that feel it.
Sam. Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: And 'tis known I am a pretty piece of Flesh.
Greg. 'Tis well thou art not Fish : if thou hadst, thou hadft been Poor John. Draw thy Tool, here comes of the House of the Mountagues.
Enter Abram and Balthasar. Sam. My naked Weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee. Greg. How? turn thy back and run ? Sam. Fear me not. Greg. No, marry : I fear thee. Sam. Let us take the Law of our fides: let them begin.
Greg. I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they lift.
Sam. 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 ?
Sam. No, Sir, I do not bite my Thumb at you, Şir: bue I bite my Thumb, Sir.
Greg. Do you quarrel, Şir?
Man as you.
i Abr. No better? Sam. Well, Şir.
Enter Benvolio. Greg. Say better : htre comes one of my Master's Kinsmen. Sam. Yes, better. Abr. You Lie.
Sam. Draw, if you be Men. Gregory, remember thy washing blow.
[They fight. Ben. Part, Fools, put up your Swords, you know not what you do.
Enter Tybalt. Tyb. 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,
Tyb. What draw, and talk of Peace? I hate the word
Enter old Capulet in his Gown, and Lady Capulet. Cap. What noise is this? Give me my long Sword, ho? La. Cap. A Crutch, a Crutch: why call you for a Sword?
Cap. A Sword, I say : Old Mountague is comé, And Apurishes his Blade in spight of me.
Enter old Mountague and Lady Mountague.
Enter Prince with Attendants.
To wield old Partisans, in Hands as old,
[Exeunt Prince and Capulet, &c. La, Moun. Who set this ancient Quarrel new abroach? Speak, Nephew, were you by when it began?
Ben. Here were the Servants of your Adversary,
part, *Till the Prince came, who parted either part.
La. Moun. O where is Romeo, saw you him to Day ?
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd Sun
Moun. Many a Morning hath he there been scen