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Abr.

Samp. Let us take the law of our sides ; let them begin.

Gre. I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list. Samp. Nay, as they dare. I will bite

my

thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.

Do
you
bite
your

thumb at us, sir ?
Samp. I do bite my thumb, sir.
Abr. Do

you
bite
your

thumb at us, sir ? Samp. Is the law on our side, if I say Ay? Gre. No.

Samp. 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.

Samp. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man as you.

Abr. No better.
Samp. Well, sir.

Enter Benvolio, at a distance. Gre. Say, better; here comes one of my master's kinsmen.

Samp. Yes, better, sir.
Abr. You lie.

Samp. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remember the swashing 1 blow.

[they fight.

Noisy.

Ben. Part, fools ; put up your swords : you know not what you do.

[beats down their swords.

Enter TYBALT. Ty. 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. Ty. 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 Partisans of both houses, who join the

fray; then enter CITIZENS, with clubs. i Cit. Clubs, bills, and partisans !1 strike! beat

them down ! Down with the Capulets ! down with the Mon

tagues !

Enter CAPULET, in his gown ; and LADY CAPULET. Cap. What noise is this ? –Give me my long

sword, ho! L. Cap. A crutch, a crutch !—Why call you for a

sword ? Cap. My sword, I say !-Old Montague is come,

· A bill is a battle-axe, and a partisan a kind of pike.

And florishes his blade in spite of me.

Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE.

Mon. Thou villain, Capulet,---hold me not; let

me go.

L. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a

foe.

Enter PRINCE, with Attendants.

Prince. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbor-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 On pain of torture, from those bloody hands, Throw your mistemper'd 1 weapons to the ground, And hear the sentence of your moved prince. Three civil brawls, 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 partisans, in hands as old, Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate. If ever you disturb our streets again, Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.

veins;

1 Angry.

For this time, all the rest depart away.
You, Capulet, shall go along with me;
And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
To know our farther pleasure in this case,
To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
[Exeunt Prince, and Attendants ; Capulet, Lady

Capulet, Tybalt, Citizens, and Servants.
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 yours, close fighting ere I did approach :
I drew to part them; in the instant came
The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared ;
Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears,
He swung about 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.

L. Mon. O, where is Romeo ?--saw you him to

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day?

Right glad I am he was not at this fray.

Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun
Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
Where, underneath the

grove

of sycamore, That westward rooteth from the city's side, So early walking did I see your son : Towards him I made; but he was 'ware of me, And stole into the covert of the wood.

I, measuring his affections by my own,
That most are busied when they are most alone,
Pursued my humor, not pursuing his,
And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.

Mon, Many a morning hath he there been seen,
With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew,
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs :
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Should in the farthest east begin to draw
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
Away from light steals home my heavy son,
And private in his chamber pens himself ;
Shuts

up

his windows, locks fair daylight out,
And makes himself an artificial night.
Black and portentous must this humor 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 importuned 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 true But to himself so secret and so close, 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 same. Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, We would as willingly give cure, as know.

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