Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? 50 Sam. [Aside to Gre.] Is the law of our side, if I say ay? Gre. No. Sam. 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. 60 Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man Gre. Say "better:" here comes one of my master's kins men. Sam. Yes, better, sir. Abr. You lie. Sam. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. Ben. Part, fools! Enter BENVOLIO. [They fight. 70 Put up your swords; you know not what you do. [Beats down their swords, 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, 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! [They fight. Enter several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs. First Cit. Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues! Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET. 80 Cap. What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho! La. Cap. 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. La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe. Enter PRINCE, with Attendants. Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts, 90 Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets, Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate: Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. To know our further pleasure in this case, 100 To old Free-town, our common judgement-place. Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. 110 [Exeunt all but Montague, Lady Montague, and Benvolio. Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary, La. Mon. O, where is Romeo? saw you him to day? Right glad I am he was not at this fray. Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun 120 Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, Ben. My noble uncle, do know the cause? Is to himself-I will not say how true- So far from sounding and discovery, As is the bud bit with an envious worm, Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, Enter ROMEO. Ben. See, where he comes: so please you, step aside; I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. Mon. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away. Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Ben. But new struck nine. 130 140 160 [Exeunt Montague and Lady. Is the day so young? Rom. Ay me! sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast? Ben. It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes them short. Ben. In love? 171 Rom. Out Ben. Of love? Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! This love feel I, that feel no love in this. Ben. No, coz, I rather weep. Rom. Good heart, at what? 180 At thy good heart's oppression. 190 Rom. Why, such is love's transgression. With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown Ben. Soft! I will go along; But sadly tell me who. 200 Groan? why, no; Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will: Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill! In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. 210 Ben. I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved. Rom. A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love. Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. Rom. Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit; And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: 220 O, she is rich in beauty, only poor, That when she dies with beauty dies her store. Ben. Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste, For beauty starved with her severity Cuts beauty off from all posterity. She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow Do I live dead that live to tell it now. 230 Ben. Be ruled by me, forget to think of her. Rom. O, teach me how I should forget to think. "Tis the way Rom. 240 Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair? Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A street. Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant. Cap. But Montague is bound as well as I, |