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Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
Prin. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio;
friend; His fault concludes but, what the law should end, The life of Tybalt. Prin.
And, for that offence, Immediately we do exile him hence: I have an interest in your hates' 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 this body, and attend our will: Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
A ROOM IN CAPULET'S HOUSE.
Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phæbus' mansion; such a waggoner As Phaeton would whip you to the west, And bring in cloudy night immediately.Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night! That run-away's eyes may wink; angl 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. Come, night!--Come, Romeo! come, thou day in
night! For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night Whiter than new snow on 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,
Enter Nurse, with cords.
the cords, That Romeo bade thee fetch? Nurse,
Ay, ay, the cords.
[Throws them down. Jul. Ah me! what news! why dost thou wring
thy hands? Nurse. Ah well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's
dead! We are undone, lady, we are undone!Alack the day!-he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!
Jul. Can heaven be so envious ?
Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but I,
Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had !
Jul. What storm is this, that blows so contrary?
Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
There's no trust,
Blister'd be thy tongue,
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?