Iul. Good euen to my ghostly Confessor
Fri. Romeo shall thanke thee Daughter for vs both
Iul. As much to him, else in his thanks too much
Fri. Ah Iuliet, if the measure of thy ioy Be heapt like mine, and that thy skill be more To blason it, then sweeten with thy breath This neighbour ayre, and let rich musickes tongue, Vnfold the imagin'd happinesse that both Receiue in either, by this deere encounter
Iul. Conceit more rich in matter then in words, Brags of his substance, not of Ornament: They are but beggers that can count their worth, But my true Loue is growne to such excesse, I cannot sum vp some of halfe my wealth
Fri. Come, come with me, & we will make short worke, For by your leaues, you shall not stay alone, Till holy Church incorporate two in one. Enter Mercutio, Benuolio, and men.
Ben. I pray thee good Mercutio lets retire, The day is hot, the Capulets abroad: And if we meet, we shal not scape a brawle, for now these hot dayes, is the mad blood stirring
Mer. Thou art like one of these fellowes, that when he enters the confines of a Tauerne, claps me his Sword vpon the Table, and sayes, God send me no need of thee: and by the operation of the second cup, drawes 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 Iacke in thy mood, as any in Italie: and assoone moued to be moodie, and assoone moodie to be mou'd
Ben. And what too? Mer. Nay, and there were two such, we should haue none shortly, for one would kill the other: thou, why thou wilt quarrell with a man that hath a haire more, or a haire lesse in his beard, then thou hast: thou wilt quarrell with a man for cracking Nuts, hauing no other reason, but because thou hast hasell eyes: what eye, but such an eye, would spie out such a quarrell? thy head is full of quarrels, as an egge is full of meat, and yet thy head hath bin beaten as addle as an egge for quarreling: thou hast quarrel'd with a man for coffing in the street, because he hath wakened thy Dog that hath laine asleepe in the Sun. Did'st thou not fall out with a Tailor for wearing his new Doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shooes with old Riband, and yet thou wilt Tutor me from quarrelling? Ben. And I were so apt to quarell as thou art, any man should buy the Fee-simple of my life, for an houre and a quarter
Mer. The Fee-simple? O simple. Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others.
Ben. By my head here comes the Capulets
Mer. By my heele I care not
Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speake to them. Gentlemen, Good den, a word with one of you
Mer. And but one word with one of vs? couple it with something, make it a word and a blow
Tib. You shall find me apt inough to that sir, and you will giue me occasion
Mercu. Could you not take some occasion without giuing? Tib. Mercutio thou consort'st with Romeo
Mer. Consort? what dost thou make vs Minstrels? & thou make Minstrels of vs, looke to heare nothing but discords: heere's my fiddlesticke, heere's that shall make you daunce. Come consort
Ben. We talke here in the publike haunt of men, Either withdraw vnto some priuate place, Or reason coldly of your greeuances: Or else depart, here all eies gaze on vs
Mer. Mens eyes were made to looke, and let them gaze. I will not budge for no mans pleasure I. Enter Romeo.
Tib. Well peace be with you sir, here comes my man
Mer. But Ile be hang'd sir if he weare your Liuery. Marry go before to field, heele be your follower, Your worship in that sense, may call him man
Tib. Romeo, the loue I beare thee, can affoord No better terme then this: Thou art a Villaine
Rom. Tibalt, the reason that I haue to loue thee, Doth much excuse the appertaining rage To such a greeting: Villaine am I none; Therefore farewell, I see thou know'st me not
Tib. Boy, this shall not excuse the iniuries That thou hast done me, therefore turne and draw
Rom. I do protest I neuer iniur'd thee, But lou'd thee better then thou can'st deuise: Till thou shalt know the reason of my loue, And so good Capulet, which name I tender As dearely as my owne, be satisfied
Mer. O calme, dishonourable, vile submission: Alla stucatho carries it away. Tybalt, you Rat-catcher, will you walke? Tib. What wouldst thou haue with me? Mer. Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine liues, that I meane to make bold withall, and as you shall vse me hereafter dry beate the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your Sword out of his Pilcher by the eares? Make hast, least mine be about your eares ere it be out
Tib. I am for you
Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy Rapier vp
Mer. Come sir, your Passado
Rom. Draw Benuolio, beat downe their weapons: Gentlemen, for shame forbeare this outrage, Tibalt, Mercutio, the Prince expresly hath Forbidden bandying in Verona streetes. Hold Tybalt, good Mercutio.
Exit Tybalt.
Mer. I am hurt. A plague a both the Houses, I am sped: Is he gone and hath nothing? Ben. What art thou hurt? Mer. I, I, a scratch, a scratch, marry 'tis inough, Where is my Page? go Villaine fetch a Surgeon
Rom. Courage man, the hurt cannot be much
Mer. No: 'tis not so deepe as a well, nor so wide as a Church doore, but 'tis inough, 'twill serue: aske for me to morrow, and you shall find me a graue man. I am pepper'd I warrant, for this world: a plague a both your houses. What, a Dog, a Rat, a Mouse, a Cat to scratch a man to death: a Braggart, a Rogue, a Villaine, that fights by the booke of Arithmeticke, why the deu'le came you betweene vs? I was hurt vnder your arme
Rom. I thought all for the best
Mer. Helpe me into some house Benuolio, Or I shall faint: a plague a both your houses. They haue made wormesmeat of me, I haue it, and soundly to your Houses. Enter.
Rom. This Gentleman the Princes neere Alie, My very Friend hath got his mortall hurt In my behalfe, my reputation stain'd With Tibalts slaunder, Tybalt that an houre Hath beene my Cozin: O Sweet Iuliet, Thy Beauty hath made me Effeminate, And in my temper softned Valours steele. Enter Benuolio.
Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, braue Mercutio's is dead, That Gallant spirit hath aspir'd the Cloudes, Which too vntimely here did scorne the earth
Rom. This daies blacke Fate, on mo daies depend, This but begins, the wo others must end. Enter Tybalt.
Ben. Here comes the Furious Tybalt backe againe
Rom. He gon in triumph, and Mercutio slaine? Away to heauen respectiue Lenitie, And fire and Fury, be my conduct now. Now Tybalt take the Villaine backe againe That late thou gau'st me, for Mercutios soule Is but a little way aboue our heads, Staying for thine to keepe him companie: Either thou or I, or both, must goe with him
Tib. Thou wretched Boy that didst consort him here, Shalt with him hence
Rom. This shall determine that.
They fight. Tybalt falles.
Ben. Romeo, away be gone: The Citizens are vp, and Tybalt slaine, Stand not amaz'd, the Prince will Doome thee death If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away
Rom. O! I am Fortunes foole
Ben. Why dost thou stay?
Exit Romeo.
Enter Citizens.
Citi. Which way ran he that kild Mercutio? Tibalt that Murtherer, which way ran he? Ben. There lies that Tybalt
Citi. Vp sir go with me: I charge thee in the Princes names obey. Enter Prince, old Montague, Capulet, their Wiues and all.
Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this Fray? Ben. O Noble Prince, I can discouer all The vnluckie Mannage of this fatall brall: There lies the man slaine by young Romeo, That slew thy kinsman braue Mercutio
Cap. Wi. Tybalt, my Cozin? O my Brothers Child, O Prince, O Cozin, Husband, O the blood is spild Of my deare kinsman. Prince as thou art true, For bloud of ours, shed bloud of Mountague. O Cozin, Cozin
Prin. Benuolio, who began this Fray? Ben. Tybalt here slaine, whom Romeo's hand did slay, Romeo that spoke him faire, bid him bethinke How nice the Quarrell was, and vrg'd withall Your high displeasure: all this vttered, With gentle breath, calme looke, knees humbly bow'd Could not take truce with the vnruly spleene Of Tybalts deafe to peace, but that he Tilts With Peircing steele at bold Mercutio's breast, Who all as hot, turnes deadly point to point, And with a Martiall scorne, with one hand beates 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 then his tongue, His aged arme, beats downe their fatall points, And twixt them rushes, vnderneath whose arme, An enuious thrust from Tybalt, hit the life Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled. But by and by comes backe to Romeo, Who had but newly entertained Reuenge, And too't they goe like lightning, for ere I Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slaine: And as he fell, did Romeo turne and flie: This is the truth, or let Benuolio die
Cap. Wi. He is a kinsman to the Mountague, Affection makes him false, he speakes not true: Some twenty of them fought in this blacke strife, And all those twenty could but kill one life. I beg for Iustice, which thou Prince must giue: Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not liue