Rom. And stay, good nurse, behind the abbeywall:

Within this hour my man shall be with thee,
And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair;
Which to the high top-gallant of my joy
Must be my convoy in the secret night.
Farewell!-Be trusty, and I'll 'quite thy pains.
Farewell!-Commend me to thy mistress.
Nurse. Now, God in heaven bless thee!-Hark
you, sir.

Rom. What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
Nurse. Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear

say,

Two may keep counsel, putting one away?

Rom. I warrant thee; my man's true as steel. Nurse. Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady-Lord, lord!-when 'twas a little prating thing,-O-There's a nobleman in town, one

SCENE V.-CAPULET'S Garden.
Enter JULIET.

Jul. The clock struck nine, when I did send the

nurse;

In half an hour she promis'd to return.
Perchance, she cannot meet him :-that's not so.-
O! she is lame love's heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams
Driving back shadows over lowering hills:
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
Now is the sun upon the highmost hill
Of this day's journey; and from nine till twelve
Is three long hours,-yet she is not come.
Had she affections, and warm youthful blood,
She'd be as swift in motion as a ball;
My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
And his to me:

But old folks, many feign as they were dead; Unwieldy, slow, heavy, and pale as lead.

Enter Nurse and PETER.

O God! she comes.-O honey nurse! what news!
Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate. [Exit PETER.
Jul. Now, good sweet nurse, -O lord! why
look'st thou sad?

Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
If good, thou sham'st the music of sweet news
By playing it to me with so sour a face.

Nurse. I am aweary, give me leave awhile.Fie, how my bones ache! What a jaunt have 1 had!

Jul. I would, thou hadst my bones, and I thy

news:

Nay, come, I pray thee, speak ;-good, good nurse,

speak.

Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite :
Therefore, love moderately; long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

Enter JULIEt.

Here comes the lady.-O! so light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint:
A lover may bestride the gossamers
That idle in the wanton summer air,
And yet not fall; so light is vanity.

Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor.

Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.

Jul. As much to him, else are his thanks too much.

Rom. Ah, Juliet! if the measure of thy joy
Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
Unfold the imagin'd happiness, that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.

Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament:
They are but beggars that can count their worth;
But my true love is grown to such excess,

I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth.

Fri. Come, come with me, and we will make short work;

For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone,
Till holy church incorporate two in one.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-A Public Place.

Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants.
Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire:
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
And if we meet we shall not 'scape a brawl;
For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.

Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows that, when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table, and says, "God send me no need of thee!" and, by the operation of the second cup, draws him on the drawer, when, indeed, there is no need.

Ben. Am I like such a fellow?

Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood, as any in Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved.

Ben. And what to?

Mer. Nay, and there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason, but because thou hast hazel eyes: what eye, but such an eye, would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels, as an egg is full of meat; and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

Ben. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art,

any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

Mer. The fee-simple? O simple!

Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets.
Enter TYBALT, and others.

Mer. By my heel, I care not.

Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them.

Gentlemen, good den! a word with one of you.

Mer. And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow. Tyb. You will find me apt enough to that, sir, if you will give me occasion.

Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving?

Tyb. Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo.

Mer. Consort! what! dost thou make us minstrels? an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. 'Žounds, consort!

Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men: Either withdraw unto some private place, Or reason coldly of your grievances, Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us. Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze:

I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Enter ROMEO.

Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man.

Mer. But I'll be hang'd, sir, if he wear your livery:

Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower; Your worship, in that sense, may call him-man.

Tyb. Romeo, the hate I bear thee, can afford No better term than this-thou art a villain.

Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee Doth much excuse the appertaining rage

To such a greeting:-villain am I none;
Therefore farewell: I see, thou know'st me not.
Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me; therefore, turn and draw.
Rom. I do protest, I never injur'd thee;
But love thee better than thou canst devise,
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love :
And so, good Capulet,-which name I tender

As dearly as mine own,-be satisfied.

Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! A la stoccata carries it away. [Draws.

Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? Tyb. What would'st thou have with me? Mer. Good king of cats, nothing, but one of your nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.

Tyb. I am for you.

[Drawing.

Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
Mer. Come, sir, your passado. [They fight.
Rom. Draw, Benvolio;

Beat down their weapons :-gentlemen, for shame
Forbear this outrage!-Tybalt-Mercutio-
The prince expressly hath forbid this bandying
In Verona streets.-Hold, Tybalt!-good Mer-
cutio! [Exeunt TYBALT and his Partisans.

Mer. I am hurt ;

A plague o' both the houses!-I am sped :-
Is he gone, and hath nothing?

Ben.
What! art thou hurt?
Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis

enough.

Where is my page ?-go, villain, fetch a surgeon. [Exit Page.

Rom. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve: ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world:a plague o' both your houses!-'Zounds! a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic!-Why, the devil, came you between us? I was hurt under your arm. Rom. I thought all for the best.

Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio, Or I shall faint.-A plague o' both your houses! They have made worms' meat of me: I have it, and soundly too:-your houses!

[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO. Rom. This gentleman, the prince's near ally, My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt In my behalf; my reputation stain'd With Tybalt's slander, Tybalt, that an hour Hath been my cousin ;-O sweet Juliet! Thy beauty hath made me effeminate, And in my temper soften'd valour's steel. Re-enter BENVOLIO.

Ben. O Romeo, Romeo! brave Mercutio's dead; That gallant spirit hath 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 Mercutio's soul Is but a little way above our heads, Staying for thine to keep him company: Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him. Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,

1 Cit. Which way ran he, that killed 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. Where are the vile beginners of this fray? Ben. O noble prince! I can discover all The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl: There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.

La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!

O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spill'd
Of my dear kinsman!-Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours shed blood of Montague.
O cousin, cousin!

Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand

did slay:

Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink
How nice the quarrel was; and urg'd withal
Your high displeasure :—all this, uttered

With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd,
Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts

With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast;
Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,
And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats
Cold death aside, and with the other sends
It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity
Retorts it. Romeo he cries aloud,

"Hold, friends! friends, part!" and, swifter than his tongue,

His agile arm beats down their fatal points,
And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm,
An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life
Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled;
But by and by comes back to Romeo,
Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
And to't they go like lightning; for ere I
Could draw to part them was stout Tybalt slain;
And as he fell did Romeo turn and fly.
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

La. Cap. He is a kinsman to the Montague;
Affection makes him false, he speaks not true:
Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
And all those twenty could but kill one life.
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 hate's 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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A Room in CAPULET'S House.

Enter JULIET.

Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phoebus' 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, unawares, eyes may wink, and 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 upon a raven's back.— Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd