SCENE I.-A public Place. Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, armed with swords and bucklers. Sam. Gregory, o'my word, we 'll not carry coals. Gre. No, for then we should be colliers. Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we 'll draw. Gre. Ay, while you live draw your neck out of the collar. Sam. I strike quickly, being moved. Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike. Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves me. Gre. To move, is to stir; and to be valiant, is to stand: therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away. Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. Gre. That shews thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall. Sam. 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. Sam. 'Tis all one; I will shew myself a tyrant: Enter several Partisans of both houses, who join the fray: then enter Citizens, with clubs. 1st Cit. Clubs, bills, and partizans! strike! beat them down! Down with the Capulets!-down with the Montagues! Enter CAPULET, in his gown; and LADY CAPULET. Cap. What noise is this?-Give me my longsword, ho! Lady C. A crutch, a crutch!—Why call you for a sword? Cap. My sword, I say!-Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me. Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE. Mon. Thou villain, Capulet!—Hold me not; let me go. Lady M. Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe. Enter PRINCE, with Attendants. That quench the fire of your pernicious rage Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. For this time, all the rest depart away: abroach? Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? Right glad am I he was not at this fray. Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipped sun Peered forth the golden window of the east, Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, up his windows, locks fair daylight 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 of him. Ben. Have you impórtuned him by any means? Mon. Both by myself and many other friends But he, his own affections' counsellor, Is to himself—I will not say, how trueBut to himself so secret and so close, So far from sounding and discovery |