Puslapio vaizdai


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SCENE, The Street, in Verona.

Enter Sampson and Gregory, (with swords and

bucklers,) two fervants of the Capulets.


#REGORY, on my word, we'll not carry coals.

Greg. No, for then we should be colliers.

Sam. I mean, an' we be in choler, we'll e 张


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

Sam. I strike quickly, being mov’d.
Greg. But thou art not quickly mov'd to strike.
Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves me,

Greg. To move, is to stir; and to be valiant is to fand therefore, if thou art mov'd, thou runn'lt away.

Sam. A dog of that house thall move me to stand : I will take the wall of any man, or maid of Montague's.


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Greg. That shews thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall.

Sam. True, and therefore women, being the weakest, are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thruft his maids to the wall.

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

Sam. ?Tis all one, I will shew myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids, and cut off their heads.

Greg. The heads of the maids ? ** Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or the maidenheads, 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 hadft, thou hadft been Poor John. Draw thy tool, here comes of the house of the Montagues.

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


thumb at us, Sir?
Sam. I do bite my thumb, Sir.
Abr. Do


bite your thumb at us, Sir ?
Sam. Is the law on our fide, if I say, ay ?
Greg. No.
Sam. No, Sir, I do not bite


thumb at you, Sir: but I bite my thumb, Sir. Greg. Do you quarrel, Sir ?


Abr. Quarrel, Şir? no, Sir.

Sam. If you do, Sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man, as you.

Abr. No better.
Sam. Well, Sir.

Enter Benvolio. Greg. Say, better : here comes one of my master's kinsmen.

Sam. Yes, better, Sir.
Abr. You lye.

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

Ben. I do but keep the peace ; put up thy fword, Or manage it to part these 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.

[Fight. Enter three or four citizens with clubs. Cit. Clubs, bills, and partisans ! ftrike ! beat thema

Down with the Capulets, down with the Montagues !

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 sword? Cap. My sword, I say: oll Montague is come, And Rourishes his blade in {pight of me. A 5


for a

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 seek a foe.

Enter Prince with attendants. Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Prophaners of this neighbour-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 veins ; On pain of torture, from those bloody hands Throw your mif-temper'd weapons to the ground, And hear the sentence of your moved Prince. Three civil broils, 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 partizans, in hands as.old, Cankred with peace, to part your cankred hate; If ever you disturb our streets again, Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. For this time all the rest depart away, You Capulet, fhall go along with me; And, Montague, come you this afternoon, To know our further pleasure in this case, To old free-town, our common judgment-place : Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.

[Exeunt Prince and Capulet, &c. La. Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach; Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began?

Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary,
And your's clofe fighting, ere I did approach;
I drew to part thein : In the instant came
The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd,
Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears,
He swung aboat his head, and cut the winds:
Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss’d him in scorn.

While we were interchanging thrusts 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. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd fun
Peer'd through the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drew me to walk abroad:
Where underneath the grove of fycamour,'
That westward rooteth from the city side,
So early walking did I see your fon.
Tow'rds him I made; but he was 'ware of me,
And stole into the covert of the wood.
1, measuring his affections by my own,
(That most are busied when they're most alone,)
Pursued my humour, not pursuing him;
And gladly shun'd, who gladly fled from me.

Mor. Many a morning hath he there been seen
With tears augmenting the fresh morning-dew;
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep fighs :
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Should, in the fartheft eaft, begin to draw
The shady 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.
Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means

Mon. Both by mylelf and many other friends
But he, his own affections' counsellor,
Is to himself, I will not say, how true ;
But to himself so secret and so close,
So far from founding and discovery;
As is the bud bit with an envious worm, (1)

Ere (1) As is the Bud, bit with an envicus Worm, Ere be car spread his sweet Leaves to sbe Air,


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