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Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the
word, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: Have at thee, coward.
[They fight. Enter several Partizans of both Houses, who join the
fray; then enter Citizens, with Clubs. i Cit. Clubs, bills, and partizans ! strike! beat them
down! Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues! Enter CAPULET, in his gown; and Lady CAPULET. Cap. What noise is this?-Give me my long sword,
ho! La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch!-Why call you for a
sword ? Cap. My sword, I say !-Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
Enter Montague and Lady MONTAGUE. Mon. Thou villain, Capulet,– Hold me not, let
La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
Enter Prince, with Attendants. Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,Will they not hear?—what ho! you men, you
beasts, That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
With purple fountains issuing from your veins-
[Exeunt Prince, and Attendants; Capulet, Lady
Capulet, Tybalt, Citizens, and Servants,
While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, Came more and more, and fought on part and part, 'Till the prince came, who parted either part.
La. Mon. O, where is Romeo!--saw you him to
Right glad I am, he was not at this fray.
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Where,-underneath the grove of sycamore, That westward rošteth from the city's side, – So early walking did I see your son : Towards him I made; but he was 'ware of me, And stole into the covert of the wood: I, measuring his affections by my own,That most are busied when they are most alone, Pursu'd my humour, not pursuing his, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs : But all so soon as the all-cheering sun Should in the furthest east begin to draw The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, Away from light steals home my heavy son, And private in his chamber pens himself; Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out, And makes himself an artificial night: Black and portentous must this humour prove, Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause ?
Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends:
Enter Romeo, at a distance. Ben. See, where he comes: So please you, step
aside; I'll know his grievance, or be much deny'd.
Mon. I would, thou wert so happy by thy stay, To hear true shrift.—Come, madam, let's
[Exeunt Montague and Lady. Ben. Good morrow,
Is the day so young? Ben. But new struck nine. Rom.
Ah me! sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast? Ben. It was:—What sadness lengthens Romeo's
hours? Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes them
Ben. In love?
Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,
Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! Where shall we dine?-0 me!- What fray was
No, coz, I rather weep.
At thy good heart's oppression,