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Your worship, in that sense, may call him-man.
Tyb. Romeo, the hate I bear thee, can afford
Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
Rom. I. do protest, I never injur'd thee ;
Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
Tyb. What wouldst 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.
88 Tyb. I am for you.
Rom. Draw, Benvolio ;
The prince expressly hath forbid this bandying
[Exit TYBALT. Mer. I am hurt ;
92 A plague o' both the houses !-I am sped: Is he gone, and hath nothing?
Ben. What, art thou hurt?
[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 pepper'd, I warrant, for this world :-A plague o'both your houses !-What! 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 arithme. tick! Why, the devil, came you between us ? I was hurt under your arm?
106 Rom. I thought all for the best,
Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Exeunt MERCUTIo, and BENVOLIO.
With Tybalt's slander, Tybalt, that an hour
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 de
pend; This but begins the woe, others must end.
Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. 2: 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. thon gav'st me; for Mercutio's soul Is but a little way above our heads,
130 Staying for thine to keep him company; Or thou, or:1, or both, shall follow him. Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him
here, Shalt 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 doon, thee death,
140 Ben. Why dost thou stay?
Enter Citizens, &c.
Ben. There lies that Tybalt.
Cit. Up, sir, go with me;
Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
Ben. O noble prince, I can discover all
Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
Your high displeasure: all this uttered
170 Hold, friends! friends, part! and, swifter than his
La. Cap.. He is a kinsman to the Montague,