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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 flain!
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 foul
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company;

Either thou, or I, or both, muft go with him.

Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didst confort him here, Shalt with him hence.

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The citizens are up, and Tybalt flain :

Stand not amaz’d :—the prince will doom thee death,

If thou art taken :-hence!-be gone!-away!

Rom. O! I am fortune's fool!

Ben.

Why dost thou stay?

[Exit ROMEO.

Enter Citizens, &c.

1. Cit. Which way ran he, that kill'd Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?

Ben. There lies that Tybalt.

1. Cit.

Up, fir, go with me;

I charge thee in the prince's name, obey.

Enter

Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their
Wives, and Others.

Prince. 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, flain by young Romeo,
That flew thy kinfman, brave Mercutio.

La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin!-O my brother's child!
Unhappy fight! ah me, the blood is fpill'd
Of my dear kinfman !-Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.—
O coufin, coufin !

Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?

Ben. Tybalt, here flain, whom Romeo's hand did flay; 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 fcorn, with one hand beats
Cold death afide, and with the other fends
It back to Tybalt, whofe 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 ftout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled:
But by and by comes back to Romeo,
Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,

E 3

And

And to't they go like lightning; for, ere I
Could draw to part them, was ftout Tybalt flain;
And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly:
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

La. Cap. He is a kinfman to the Montague,
Affection makes him falfe, 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 flew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.

Prin. Romeo flew him, he flew 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 exíle him hence:

I have an interest in your hates' 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 lofs of mine:

I will be deaf to pleading and excufes ;

Nor tears, nor prayers, shall purchase out abuses,
Therefore ufe none: let Romeo hence in haste,
Elfe, when he's found, that hour is his laft.

Bear hence this body, and attend our will:

Mercy but murders, pardoning thofe that kill. [Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE II.

A Room in Capulet's House.

Enter JULIET.

Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phœbus' manfion; fuch a waggoner
As Phaeton would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately.-
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night!
That run-away's eyes may wink; and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalk'd of, and unfeen!-
Lovers can fee to do their amorous rites
By their own beauties: or, if love be blind,
It beft agrees with night.-Come, civil night,
Thou fober-fuited 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, fimple modefty.

Come, night!-Come, Romeo! come, thou day in night!
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new fnow on a raven's back.-

Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night,
Give me my Romeo: and, when he thall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven fo fine,
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garifh fun.-
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not poffefs'd it; and, though I am fold,
Not yet enjoy'd: So tedious is this day,

As is the night before some festival

To an inpatient child, that hath new robes,

And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,

Enter Nurfe, with cords.

And she brings news; and every tongue, that speaks
But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence,―

Now, nurfe, what news? What haft thou there? the cords,
That Romeo bade thee fetch?

Nurfe.

Ay, ay, the cords.
[Throws them down.

ful. Ahme! what news! why doft thou wring thy hands! Nurfe. Ah well a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead! We are undone, lady, we are undone !—

Alack the day!-he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!
Jul. Can heaven be fo envious?

Nurse.

Romeo can,

Though heaven cannot :-O Romeo! Romeo !—
Who ever would have thought it ?—Romeo !

Jul. What devil art thou, that doft torment me thus?
This torture fhould be roar'd in difmal hell,
Hath Romeo flain himself? fay thou but I,
And that bare vowel I fhall poifon more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice:
I am not I, if there be fuch an I;

Or thofe eyes fhut, that make thee answer, I.
If he be flain, fay-I; or if not, no:

Brief founds determine of my weal, or woe.

Nurfe. I faw the wound, I faw it with mine eyes,God fave the mark!-here on his manly breast: A piteous corfe, a bloody piteous corfe; Pale, pale as afhes, all bedawb'd in blood, All in gore blood;-I fwoonded at the fight.

Jul.

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