No better term than this-Thou art a villain.
Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting:-Villain am I none;
Therefore farewell; I see, thou know'st me not.

Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me; therefore turn, and draw.
Rom. I do protest, I never injur'd thee;
But love thee better than thou canst devise,
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love :
And so, good Capulet, which name I tender
As dearly as mine own, -be satisfied.

Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission ! A la stoccata3 carries it away

Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk ?

[Draws.

Tyb. What would'st 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 4 by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.

Tyb. I am for you.

[Drawing.

[They fight.

Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

Mer. Come, sir, your passado.

Rom. Draw, Benvolio;

Beat down their weapons:-Gentlemen, for shame Forbear this outrage; -Tybalt-Mercutio

The prince expressly hath forbid this bandying

In Verona streets:-hold, Tybalt;-good Mercutio.

[Exeunt TYBALT and his Partizans.

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, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.

Where is my page?-go, villain, fetch 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 to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world:-A plague o'both your houses!-Zounds, 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 arithmetick!Why, the devil, 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 o'both your houses !
They have made worm's meat of me:
I have it, and soundly too:-Your houses!

[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO.

Rom. This gentleman, the prince's near ally,
My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
In my behalf; my reputation stain'd
With Tybalt's slander, Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my kinsman :- sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.

Re-enter BENVOLIO.

Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead;

That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

Rom. This day's black fate on more days doth de

pend;

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 slain!

Away to heaven, respectives 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 soul
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company;
Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.
Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort7 him

hère,

Shalt with him hence,

Rom.

This shall determine that.

[They fight; TYBALT falls.

Ben. Romeo, away, be gone!

The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain :

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!

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, sir, go with me;

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

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

Prin. 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 slain by young Romeo, That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.

La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin !-O my brother's

child!

Unhappy sight! ah me, the blood is spill'd
Of my dear kinsman!-Prince, as thou art true,8
For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.-
O cousin, cousin!

Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did

slay;

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 scorn, with one hand beats
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 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 stout 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 stout Tybalt slain;
And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly:
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

La. Cap. He is a kinsman to the Montague,
Affection makes him false, 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 slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.

Prin. Romeo slew him, he slew 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;