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My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
dead; That gallant spirit bath aspir'd the clouds, Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. Rom. This day's black fate on more days
doth depend; This but begins the woe, others must end.
Re-enter TYBALT. Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back
again. Rom. Alive! in triumph! and Mercutio slain! Away to heaven, respective lenity, And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now!Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, That late thou gav'st me; for Mercatio's soul Is but a little way above our beads, Staying for thine to keep bim company; Either thou, or I, or both, must go with bim. Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort
bim here, Sbalt with him hence. Rom.
This shall determine that.
[They fight; TYBALT falls. Ben. Romeo, away, be gone! The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain : Stand not amaz'd the prince will doom thee
death, If thou art taken:-hence!--be gone!-away! Rom, O! I am fortune's fool! Ben.
Why dost thou stay?
[Exit RoMEO. Enter Citizens, &c. 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. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
La. Cap. He is a kinsman to the Montague.
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 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 bleed
ing: 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.
[Exeunt. SCENE II. A Room in Capulet's House.
Enter JULIET. Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phæbus' mansion ; such a waggoner As Phaeton, wonld whip you to the west, And bring in cloudy night immediately.-. Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night! That ron-away's eyes may wink; and Romeo Leap to these arms, untask'd of, and unseen! Lovers can see 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 thý black mantle; till strange love, grown
böld, 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 thau 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, That all the world will be in love with night, And pay no worship to the garish sun.0, 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
[quence But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloNow, nurse, what news? What hast thou there,
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? Nurse.
Romeo can, Though heaven cannot :-O Romeo! Romeo! Who ever would have thought it ?-Romeo ! Jul. What deyil 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 deatb-darting eye of cockatrice : I am not I, if there be such an I; Or those eyes shut, that make thee 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 !-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 bankrupt,
break at once ! To prison, eyes! ne'er look on liberty ! Vile earth, to eartb 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 dear-lov'd cousin, and my dearer lord ? Then dreadfultrumpet, 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 Ty
balt'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? 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 ! 0, nature ! what badst 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? 0, 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 naught, all dissemblers.Ah, wbere's my man? give me some aqua vita: These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make
me old. Shame come to Romeo! Jul.
Blister'd be thy tongue,