SCENE I-4 public Place.

Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants.

Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire; The day is hot, the Capulets abroad. And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl; For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.

Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows, that, when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table, and says, God send me no need of thee! and, by the operation of the second cup, draws it on the drawer, when, indeed, there is no need.

Ben. Am I like such a fellow?

Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved. Ben. And what to?

Mer. Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye, but such an eye, would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels, as an egg is full of meat; and yet thy head hath been beaten as

addle as an egg, for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

Ben. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

Mer. The fee-simple? O simple!

Enter TYBALT and others.

Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets.
Mer. By my heel, i care not.

Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to

them.

Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you. Mer. And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.

Tyb. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me occasion.

Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving?

Tyb. Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo,Mer. Consort! what, dost thou make us min

strels! an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. 'Zounds, consort!

Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men: Either withdraw unto some private place, Or reason coldly of your grievances,

Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.

Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;

I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Enter ROMEO.

Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir! here comes my man.

Mer. But I'll be hang'd, sir, if he wear your livery:

Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower;
Your worship in that sense, may call him-man.
Tyb. Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford
No better term than this-Thou art a villain.
Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love
thee

Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting:-Villain am I none;
Therefore, farewell; I see thou know'st me not.

Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries That thou hast done me; therefore turn, and draw.

Rom. I do protest, I never injur'd thee; But love thee better than thou canst devise, Till thou shalt know the reason of my love: And so, good Capulet,-which name I tender As dearly as mine own,-be satisfied.

[Draws.

Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! Alla stoccata carries it away. Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?

Tyb. What would'st thou have with me? Mer. Good king of cats, nothing, but one of your nine lives, that I mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out. Tyb. I am for you. Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. Mer. Come, sir, your passado. [They fight. Rom. Draw, Benvolio. Beat down their

weapons.

[Drawing.

Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage; Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath

a (A), hate.

b Alla stoccata-the Italiar term of art for the thrust

with a rapier.

• Scabbard.

Forbidden bandying in Verona streets. Hold Tybalt-good Mercutio”—

[Exeunt TYBALT and his Partisans.

Mer. I am hurt.-

A plague o' both your houses!—I am sped : Is he gone, and hath nothing?

Ben.

What, art thou burt? Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 't is enough.

Where is my page P-go, villain, fetch a surgeon. [Exit Page.

Rom. Courage man: the hurt cannot be much. Mer. No, 't is not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door; but 't is enough, 't will 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!What, 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 cousin -O sweet Juliet, Thy beauty hath made me effeminate, And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.

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.

La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!

O prince,-O cousin,-husband, -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 fray?
Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand
did slay;

Romeo that spoke him fair, både 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

So (C) and folio. (D), “unhappy sight, ah me," and in that copy, "O cousin, cousin!" in the third line beyond, is omitted. Some modern editors, in this and in other passages, have adopted the arbitrary course of making up a text out of the first quarto and the quarto of 1599, without regard to the important circumstance that this later edition was "newly corrected, augmented, and amended,"-and that the folio, in nearly every essential particular, follows it.

b Slight

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.

La. Cap. He is a kinsman to the Montagur,
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 erd, 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 his body, and attend our will:
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
[Exeunt.

That, runaway'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,
With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown
bold,

Think true love acted, simple modesty.

in night!

For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new snow upon 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,

Enter NURSE, with cords.

And she brings news; and every tongue, that speaks But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence.Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there ?

the cords

& This reading is that of all the old copies. The passage has been a perpetual source of contention to the commentators. Their difficulties are well represented by Warburton's question "What runaways are these, whose eyes Juhet is wishing to have stopped?" Warburton says Phoebus is the runaway. Steevens proves that Night is the runaway. Douce thinks that Juliet is the runaway. It has been suggested to us that in several early poems Cupid is styled Runaway. Monck Mason is confident that the passage ought to be "That Renomy's eyes may wink," Renomy being a new personage, created out of the French Renommée, and answering, we suppose, to the "Rumour" of Spenser. Zachary Jackson suggests that runaways is a misprint for unawares. The word unawares, in the old orthography, is unawayres (it is so spelt in the Third Part of Henry VI.), and the r, having been misplaced, produced this word of puzzle, runawayes. Mr. Collier adopta this reading. But Mr. Dyce objects: "That ways (the last syllable of run-aways) ought to be Day's, I feel next to certain; but what word originally preceded it I do not pretend to determine.

rude Day's eyes may wink.

8007

Whoever 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 the 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 !2-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 swoonded at the sight.
Jul. O break, my heart!-poor bankrout,'
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 dearest 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 flow'ring face!

Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?

a It is here necessary to retain the old spelling of the affirmative particle I (ay).

b Bankrout. We restore the old poetical bankrout, in pr ference to the modern bankrupt.

(4), dear-lov'd.

-

Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-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 nought, 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 't is 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,

When I, thy three-hours' wife, have mangled it ?

But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?

That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband:

Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;
Your tributary drops belong to woe,
Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.

My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt dead, that would have slain my husband:

All this is comfort: Wherefore weep I then?
Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,
That murder'd me: I would forget it fain;
But, O! it presses to my memory,
Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds.
Tybalt is dead, and Romeo-banished;
That-banished, that one word-banished,
Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death
Was woe enough, if it had ended there:
Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship,
And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,-
Why follow'd not, when she said-Tybalt's dead,

Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,
Which modern lamentation might have mov'd?
But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death,
Romeo is banished,-to speak that word,
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All slain, all dead :-Romeo is banished,—
There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
In that word's death; no words can that woo
sound.-

Where is my father, and my mother, nurse?

Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's

corse:

Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. Jul. Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent,

When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. Take up those cords :-Poor ropes, you are beguil'd,

Both you and I; for Romeo is exil'd:
He made you for a highway to my bed;
But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
Come, cord; come, nurse; I'll to my wedding
bed;

And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!

Nurse. Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo To comfort you :-I wot well where he is. Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night; I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell. Jul. O find him! give this ring to my true knight,

And bid him come to take his last farewell.