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Which but their childrens' end nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage.
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here fhall mifs, our toil fhall strive to mend.


The Street in Verona.

Enter Samplon and Gregory, with fwords and bucklers, two fervants of the Capulets.





REGORY, on my word, we'll not
carry coals *.

Greg. No; for then we fhould be

Sam. I mean, an' we be in choler, we'll draw.
Greg. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of the

Sam. I frike quickly, being mov'd,

Greg. But thou art not quickly mov'd to strike.
Sam. A dog of the houfe of Montague moves me.
Greg. To move, is to ftir; and to be valiant, is to
ftand; therefore, if thou art mov'd, thou runn'ft 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.
Greg. That fhews thee a weak flave; for the weakest
goes to the wall.


Sam. True; and therefore women, being the weakest, are ever thrust to the wall;- - therefore I will pufh Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall.

Greg. The quarrel is between our mafters, and us their men.

Sam. 'Tis all one, I will fhew myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids, and cut off their heads.

Greg. The heads of the maids?

Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or the maiden. heads, take it in what fenfe thou wilt.

Greg. They must take it in fenfe that feel it.

A phrafe then in ufe, to fignify the bearing injuries.

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Sam. Me they fhall feel while I am able to ftand; and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.

Greg. 'Tis well thou art not fith: if thou hadit, thou hadst been Poor John. Draw thy tool, here comes of the house of the Montagues.

Enter Abram and Balthafar.

Sam. My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.

Greg. How, turn thy back, and run?

Sam. Fear me not.

Greg. No, marry: I fear thee !

Sam. Let us take the law of our fides: let them begin, Greg. I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list.

Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at
them, which is a difgrace to them if they bear it.
Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?
Sam. I do bite my thumb, Sir.

Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?
Sam. Is the law on our fide, if I fay Ay?
Greg. No.


Sam. No, Sir; I do not bite my thumb at you, Sir: but I bite my thumb, Sir.

Greg. Do you quarrel, Sir.

Abr. Quarrel, Sir? no, Sir.

Sam. If you do Sir, I am for you; I ferve as good a man as you.

Abr. No better.

Sam. Well, Sir.

Enter Benvolio.



Greg. Say, better here comes one of kinfmen.


Sam. Yes, better, Sir.

Abr. You lye.

Sam. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy fwafhing blow,

[They fight.

Ben. Part, fools, put up your fwords, you know no what you do.

Enter Tybalt,

Tyb. What, art thou drawn among thefe heartless Turn thee Benvolio, look upon thy death.

[hinds? Ben. I do but keep the peace: put up thy fword, Or manage it to part thefe 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.


Enter three or four Citizens with clubs.

Off Clubs, bills, and partifans! ftrike! beat them down!

Down with the Capulets, down with the Montagues! Enter old Capulet in his gown, and Lady Capulet. Cap. What noife is this? give me my long fword,


La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch :—why call you for a fword?

Cap. My fword, I fay: old Montague is come. And flourishes his blade in spight of me.

Enter eld Montague, and Lady Montague. Man. Thou villain, Capulet-Hold me not, let me go.

La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir a foot to feek a foe.

Enter Prince with Attendants.

Prin. Rebellious fubjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour-ftained steelWill they not hear what ho! you men, you beasts, That quench the fire of your pernicious rage With purple fountains iffuing from your veins ; On pain of torture, from thofe bloody hands Throw your misternper'd weapons to the ground, And hear the fentence of your moved Prince. Three civil broils, 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

Caft by their grave, befeeming ornaments;

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To wield old partifans, in hands as old,
Cankred with peace, to part your cankred hate;
If ever you disturb our streets again,
Your lives fhall pay the forfeit of the peace.
For this time all the rest depart away,
You Capulet fhall go along with me;
And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
To know our further pleasure in this case,
To old free-town, our common judgment-place.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
[Exeunt Prince, and Capulet, &c.


La. Mon. Who fet this ancient quarrel new abroach? Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?

Ben. Here were the fervants of your adverfary, And your's, close fighting, ere I did approach; I drew to part them: in the inftant came The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd, Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, He fwung about his head, and cut the winds:: Who, nothing hurt withal, hifs'd him in fcorn. 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.

La. Mon. O where is Romeo! faw you him to-day ?: Right glad am I he was not at this fray.

Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd fun
'Pear'd through the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drew me to walk abroad :
Where underneath the grove of fycamour,.
That weftward rooteth from the city-fide,.
So early walking did I fee your fon.
Tow'rds 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 bufied when they're moft alone),
Purfued my humour, not purfuing him;
And gladly fhunn'd, who gladly fled from me.

Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen
With tears augmenting the fresh morning-dew;
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep fighs :-


But all fo foon as the all-cheering fun
Should, in the farthest east, begin to draw
The fhady curtains from Aurora's bed;
Away from light steals home my heavy fon,.
And private in his chamber pens himself;
Shuts up his windows, locks fair day-light out,
And makes himself an artificial night.
Black and portentous must this humour prove,
Unless good counfel may the cause remove.

Ben My noble uncle, do you know the cause ?
Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn it of him.
Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means?
Mon. Both by myself and many other friends.
But he, his own affections' counsellor,
Is to himself, I will not fay how true;
But to himself fo fecret and so close,
So far from founding and discovery;
As is the bud bit with an envious wormi

Ere he can fpread his fweet wings to the air,,
Or dedicate his beauty to the fun.

Could we but learn from whence his forrows grow,
We would as willingly give cure, as know.

Enter Romeo..

Ben. See where he comes: fo please you step afide.. I'll know his grievance, or be much deny'd.

Mon. I would thou wert fo happy by thy stay To hear true fhrift. Come, Madam, let's away.

Ben. Good morrow, cousin.

Rom. Is the day fo young?

Ben. But new ftruck nine.


Rom. Ah me, fad hours feem long!Was that my father that went hence fo faft? · Ben. It was what fadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Rom. Not having that, which having makes them fhort.

Ben. In love?:

Rom. Out

Ben. Of love?:

Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love...

Ben. Alas, that love fo gentle in his view,

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