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.

Tyb. I am for

you.

Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
Mer. Come, sir, your passado.

[Drawing.

Rom. Draw, Benvolio -beat down their weapons—

Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage

Tybalt-Mercutio.

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, marry 'tis enough.

[They fight.

[Exit TYBALT.

Where is my page; go, villain, fetch me 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 tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am pep

pered, 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 arithmetic. Why the deuce 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 of both your houses!
They have made worm's meat of me,

I have it and soundly too :-Your houses!

[ROMEO and BENVOLIO lead MERCUTIO off.

SHAKESPERE.

THE MAID OF HONOUR.

Enter ROBERTO, BERTHOLDO, GASPARO, ANTONIO, ADORNI, ASTUTIO, FULGENTIO, AMBASSADOr, etc.

Rob. We are prepared to hear.

Amb. Your majesty

Hath been long since familiar, I doubt not,
With the desperate fortunes of my lord; and pity
Of the much that your confederate hath suffered,
You being his last refuge, may persuade you
Not alone to compassionate, but to lend

Your royal aids to stay him in his fall

To certain ruin. He, too late, is conscious
That his ambition to encroach upon

His neighbour's territories, with the danger of
His liberty, nay, his life, hath brought in question
His own inheritance: but youth and heat

Of blood, in your interpretation, may

Both plead and mediate for him.

I must grant it

An error in him, being denied the favors

Of the fair princess of Sienna (though

He sought her in a noble way), to endeavour
To force affection by surprisal of

Her principal seal, Sienna.

Rob. Which now proves

The seat of his captivity, not triumph:

Heaven is still just.

Amb. And yet that justice is

To be with mercy tempered, which heaven's deputies
Stand bound to minister. The injured duchess,

By reason taught, as nature, could not, with

The reparation of her wrongs, but aim at

A brave revenge; and my lord feels, too late,

That innocence will find friends. The great Gonzaga
The honour of his order (I must praise
Virtue, though in an enemy), he whose fights
And conquests hold one number, rallying up
Her scattered troops, before we could get time
To victual or to man the conquered city,
Sat down before it; and presuming that

'Tis not to be relieved, admits no parley,
Our flags of truce hung out in vain: nor will he
Lend an ear to composition, but exacts,

With the rendering up the town, the goods and lives
Of all within the walls, and of all sexes,

To be at his discretion.

Rob. Since injustice

In your duke meets this correction can you press us,
With any seeming argument of reason,

In foolish pity to decline his dangers,

To draw them on ourself? Shall we not be

Warn'd by his harms? The league proclaim'd between us Bound neither of us further than to aid

Each other, if by foreign force invaded;

And so far in my

honour I was tied.

But since, without our counsel, or allowance,

He hath ta'en arms; with his good leave, he must
Excuse us if we steer not on a rock

We see, and may avoid. Let other monarchs
Contend to be made glorious by proud war,
And, with the blood of their poor subjects, purchase
Increase of empire, and augment their cares
In keeping that which was by wrongs extorted,
Gilding unjust invasions with the trim

Of glorious conquests; we, that would be known
The father of our people, in our study

And vigilance for their safety, must not change
Their ploughshares into swords, and force them from
The secure shade of their own vines, to be
Scorch'd with the flames of war; or, for our sport,
Expose their lives to ruin.

Amb. Will you, then,

In his extremity, forsake your friend ?

Rob. No; but preserve ourself.

Bert. Cannot the beams

Of honour thaw your icy fears?

Rob. Who's that?

Bert. A kind of brother, sir, howe'er your subject;

Your father's son, and one who blushes that

You are not heir to his brave spirit and vigour,
As to his kingdom.

Rob. How's this?

Bert. Sir, to be

His living chronicle, and to speak his praise,
Cannot deserve your anger.

Rob. Where's

your warrant

For this presumption?

Bert. Here, sir, in my heart:

Let sycophants, that feed upon your favors,
Style coldness in you caution, and prefer
Your ease before your honour; and conclude,
To eat and sleep supinely is the end

Of human blessings: I must tell you, sir,
Virtue, if not in action, is a vice;

And when we move not forward, we go backward:
Nor is this peace, the nurse of drones and cowards,
Our health, but a disease.

Gasp. Well urged, my lord.

Ant. Perfect what is so well begun.
Amb. And bind

My lord your servant.

Rob. Hair-brain'd fool! what reason Canst thou infer, to make this good?

Bert. A thousand,

Not to be contradicted. But consider

Where your command lies: 'tis not, sir, in France,
Spain, Germany, Portugal, but in Sicily;
An island, sir. Here are no mines of gold
Or silver to enrich you; no worm spins
Silk in her breast, to make distinction
Between you and a peasant, in your habits ;

No fish lives near our shores, whose blood can dye
Scarlet or purple; all that we possess,

With beasts we have in common: nature did
Design us to be warriors, and to break through
Our ring, the sea, by which we are environ'd;
And we by force must fetch in what is wanting,
Or precious to us. Add to this, we are
A populous nation, and increase so fast,
That, if we by our providence are not sent
Abroad in colonies, or fall by the sword,
Not Sicily, though now it were more fruitful

Than when 'twas styled the granary of great Rome,
Can yield our numerous fry bread: we must starve,
Or eat up one another.

Ador. The king hears With much attention.

Ast. And seems moved with what Bertholdo hath deliver❜d.

Bert. May you live long, sir,

The king of peace, so you deny not us

The glory of the war; let not our nerves

Shrink up with sloth, nor, for want of employment, Make younger brothers thieves: it is their swords, sir, Must sow and reap their harvest. If examples

May move you more than arguments, look on England
The empress of the European isles,

And unto whom alone ours yields precedence;
When did she flourish so, as when she was

The mistress of the ocean, her navies
Putting a girdle round about the world?

Ador. In his looks he seems

To break ope Janus' temple.

Ast. How these younglings Take fire from him!

Ador. It works an alteration

Upon the king.

Ant. I can forbear no longer :

War, war, my sovereign!

Ful. The king appears

Resolved, and does prepare to speak.

Rob. Think not

Our counsel's built upon so weak a base,
As to be overturn'd, or shaken, with
Tempestuous winds of words. As I, my lord,
Before resolved you, I will not engage
My person in this quarrel; neither press
My subjects to maintain it: yet, to show
My rule is gentle, and that I have feeling

O' your master's sufferings, since these gallants, weary
Of the happiness of peace, desire to taste
The bitter sweets of war, we do consent
That, as adventurers and volunteers,