Tyb. Thou wretched boy, that didft confort him here,

Shalt with him hence.

Rom. This fhall determine that.

[They fight, Tybalt falls.

Ben. Romeo, away, begone:

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 doft thou stay?

SCENE III.

[Exit Romeo.

Enter Citizens.

Cit. Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio? Tybalt, that murtherer, which way ran he? Ben. There lies that Tybalt.

Git. Up, Sir, go with me:

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

Enter Prince, Montague, Capulet, their wives, &c. Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray? Ben. O Noble Prince, I can discover all Th' unlucky manage of this fatal brawl: There lies the man, flain by young Romeo, That flew thy kinfman, brave Mercutio.

La Cap Tybalt my coufin! O my brother's child!
Unhappy fight! alas, the blood is fpill'd

Of my dear kinfman- Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours, fhed blood of Montague.
Prince. Benvolio, who began this fray?

Ben. Tybalt here flain, whom Romeo's hand did flay:
Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urge'd withal
Your high difpleasure all this uttered

With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd,
Could not take truce with the unruly fpleen
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 scorn, 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,

Hold, friends! friends, part! and, fwifter than his
His agil arm beats down their fatal points, tongue,
And 'twixt them rufhes; underneath whofe arm
An envious thruit from Tybalt hit the life
Of tout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled :
But by and by comes back to Romeo,
Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
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 to fly.
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

La. Cap. He is a kinfiman to the Montague.
Affection makes him falfe, he speaks not true.
Some twenty of them fought in this black ftrife,
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?
La. Mont. Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mercutio's
friend;

His fault concludes but what the law fhould end,
The life of Tybalt.

Prin. And for that offence
Immediately we do exile him hence:

1 have an intereft in your heats' proceeding,
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding
But I'll amerce you with fo ftrong a fine,
That you fhall all repent the lofs of mine.

I will be deaf to pleading and excufes,

Nor tears nor prayers fhall purchase out abuses;
Therefore ufe none; let Romeo hence in haite,
Elfe, when he's found, that hour is his laft.
Bear hence this body, and attend our will:
Mercy but murthers, pardoning thofe that kill. [Exeunt
SCENE IV.

Changes to an apartment in Capulet's boufe.
Enter Juliet alone.

Jul Gallop apace, you fiery-footed fteeds,
Tow'rds Phoebus' manfion;, fuch a waggoner
As Phaeton would whip you to the west,

And

And bring in cloudy night immediately

*

Spread thy cloic curtain, love-performing Night,
That th' runaway's eyes may wink, and Romeo.
Leap to thefe arms, untalk'd of and unseen.
Lovers can fee to do their am'rous 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 lofe a winning match,
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenheads.
Hood my unmann'd blood baiting in my cheeks,
With thy black mantle; till ftrange love grown bold,
Thinks true love acted, fimple modesty

Come, Night, come, Romeo! come, thou day in night,
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night,.
Whiter than frow upon 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 heav'n fo fine,
That all the world fhall 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; fo tedious is this day,
As is the night before fome festival,

To an impatient child that hath new robes,
And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurfe
Enter nurfe with cords.

And the brings news; and every tongue that fpeaks
But Romeo's name, fpeaks heav'nly eloquence.
Now, nurse, what news? what hast thou there?
The cords that Romeo bid thee fetch?

Nurfe Ay, ay, the cords.

Jul. Ay me, what news?

Why doft thou wring thy hands?

Nurfe. Ah welladay, 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.

That is, the fun; whom he elegantly calls the unasway, in re ference to the poetical account of the fun driving his charict of light through the heavens, and running down to the weft from the eyes of mortals to the armis of his celestial miftrefs.

Jul.

Jul. Can heaven be fo envious?
Nurfe Romeo can,

Though heav'n 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.

Nurse. 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 corse; Pale, pale as afhes, all bedawb'd in blood, All in gore blood; I fwooned at the fight.

[once!

Jul. O break, my heart-poor bankrupt, break at To prifon eyes! ne'er look on liberty; Vile earth to earth refign, end motion here, And thou and Romeo prefs one heavy bier!

Nurfe. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had : O courteous Tybalt, honeft gentleman, That ever I fhould live to fee thee dead!

Jul. What ftorm is this that blows fo contrary! Is Romeo flaughter'd? and is Tybalt dead? My dear-lov'd coufin, and my dearer Lord? Then let the trumpet found the general doom, For who are living, if thofe two are gone?

Nurfe. Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished; Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.

Jul O God! did Romeo's hand thed Tybalt's blood? Nurfe. It did, it did, alas, the day! it did.

Jul. O ferpent-heart, hid with a flow'ring face! Did ever dragon keep fo fair a cave?

Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical!

[lamb!

[Ravenous dove, feather'd raven wolvifh ravening
Defpifed fubftance, of divineft show!
Juft oppofite to what thou justly feem'ft,
A damned faint, an honourable villain!]
O nature! what hadft thou to do in hell,
When thou didst bower the fpirit of a fiend
In mortal paradife of fuch fweet flesh?
Was ever book containing fuch vile matter,
So fairly bound? O, that deeeit fhould dwell

Thefe tour lines in hooks feem to be the players' trah.

In fuch a gorgeous palace !
Nurfe. There's no truft,

No faith, no honesty, in men; all perjur'd:

All, all forfworn; all nought; and all diffemblers. Ah, where's my man! give me fome aqua vita These griefs, these woes, thefe forrows make me old ! Shame come to Romeo !

Jul. Blifter'd be thy tongue,

For fuch a with! he was not born to shame;
Upon his brow fhame is afham'd to fit :-
For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd
Sole monarch of the univerfal earth.

O, what a beaft was I to chide him fo?

Nurfe. Will you fpeak well of him that kill'd your

coufin?

Jul. Shall I fpeak ill of him that is my husband? : Ah, poor my Lord, what tongue fhail fmooth thy name, When 1, thy three hours wife, have mangied it! But wherefore, villain, didit thou kill my coufin? That villain coufin would have kill'd my hufband. Back, foolish tears, back to your native fpring; Your tributary drops belong to woe,

Which you, miftaking offer up to joy.

My husband lives, that Tybalt would have flain;
And Tybalt's dead, that would have kill'd my husband;
All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?

Some word there was, worfer than Tybalt's death,
That murther'd me; I would forget it fain.

But, oh! it preffes to my memory,

Like damned guilty deeds to finners' minds ;
Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished!

That banished, that one word banished,

Hath flain ten thoufand Tybalts: Tybalt's death
Was woe enough, if it had ended there:
Or if four woe delights in fellowship,
And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,
Why follow'd not, when the faid Tybalt's dead,
Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both?
But with a rearward following Tybalt's death,
Romeo is banished to speak that word,
Is, father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All flain, all dead! Romeo is banished!