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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

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 entertained 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 ily.
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

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

And, for that offence,
Immediately we do exile 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,

you shall all repent the loss of mine.
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;
Nor tears, nor prayers, shall purchase out abuses,
Therefore use none; let Romeo hence in haste,
Else, when he's found, that hour is his last.

Bear hence this body, and attend our will;
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.'


SCENE II. A Room in Capulet's House.

Enter Juliet.


Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phoebus' mansion ; such a wagoner As Phaeton would whip you to the west, And bring in cloudy night immediately. Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night! That runaway's eyes may wink ;3 and Romeo Leap to these arms, untalked of, and unseen Lovers can see to do their amorous rites By their own beauties; or, if love be blind, It best agrees with night.-Come, civil 4 night, .Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, And learn me how to lose a winning match, Played for a pair of stainless maidenhoods; Hood my unmanned blood bating in my cheeks, With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, Think true love acted, simple modesty. Come, night!-Come, Romeo! come, thou day in

night! For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night


1 The sentiment here enforced is different from that found in the first edition, 1597. There the prince concludes his speech with these words :

« Pity shall dwell, and govern with us still ;

Mercy to all but murderers,-pardoning none that kill.2 Here ends this speech in the original quarto. The rest of the scene has likewise received considerable alterations and additions.

3 i. e. that the eyes of prying persons, who run away as soon as observed, may wink, i. e. see imperfectly. Much ingenious criticism has been bestowed in endeavoring to explain this passage. The runaway has been supposed to refer to the sun, to night, to Juliet, to Romeo, and to Fame. There is most probably some typographical error in the lines.

4 Civil is grave, solemn.

5 These are terms of falconry. An unmanned hawk is one that is not brought to endure company. Bating is Auttering or beating the wings as striving to fly away.

Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back.-
Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-browed night.
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine,
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.-
0, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not possessed it; and, though I am sold,
Not yet enjoyed. So tedious is this day,
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child, that hath new robes,
And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,

Enter Nurse, with cords. And she brings news; and every tongue, that speaks But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence. Now, nurse, what news?

what news? What hast thou there? the

cords That Romeo bade thee fetch ? Nurse.

Ay, ay, the cords.

[Throws them down. Jul. Ah me! what news? why dost thou wring thy

hands? Nurse. 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 killed, he's dead !

Jul. Can Heaven be so envious ?

Though Heaven cannot. O Romeo! Romeo !-
Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!

Jul. What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus ?
This torture should be roared in dismal hell.
Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but I,
And that bare vowel I shall poison more

Romeo can,

1 In Shakspeare's time, the affirmative particle ay was usually written I; and here it is necessary to retain the old spelling.

Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice :
I am not I, if there be such an I;
Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer, I.
If he be slain, say—I; or if not, no:
Brief sounds determine of my weal, or woe.

Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes, -
God save the mark!!-here on his manly breast.
A piteous corse, a bloody, piteous corse;
Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaubed in blood,
All in gore blood; I swoonded at the sight.

Jul. O, break, my heart !- poor bankrupt, break at

once !

To prison, eyes! ne'er look on liberty!
Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here;
And thou, and Romeo, press one heavy bier !

Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had !
O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman !
That ever I should live to see thee dead!

Jul. What storm is this, that blows so contrary
Is Romeo slaughtered ? and is Tybalt dead?
My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord ?-
Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom !
For who is living, if those two are gone?

Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;
Romeo, that killed him, he is banished.
Jul. O God !-did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's

blood ?
Nurse. It did, it did; alas the day! it did.
Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical !
Dove-feathered raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!
Despised substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,
A damned saint, an honorable villain -
O nature! what hadst thou to do in hell,
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend

I See Othello, Act i. Sc. l.

In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?
Was ever book, containing such vile matter,
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace !

There's no trust,
No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured,
All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.-
Ah, where's my man? Give me some aqua vita.-
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
Shame come to Romeo!

Blistered be thy tongue, For such a wish! he was not born to shame. Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit ; For 'tis a throne where honor may be crowned Sole monarch of the universal earth. 0, what a beast was 1 to chide at him ! Nurse. Will you speak well of him that killed your

cousin ? Jul. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it? But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin ? That villain cousin would have killed my husband. Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. My hushand lives, that Tybalt would have slain ; And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband. All this is comfort. Wherefore weep I, then ? Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, That murdered me; I would forget it fain ; But, O! it presses to my memory, Like damned, guilty deeds to sinners' minds. Tybalt is dead, and Romeo-banished; That-banished, that one

wordbanished, Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death

1 To smooth is to flatter, to speak fair ; it is here metaphorically used for to mitigate or assuage the asperity of censure with which Romeo's name would be now mentioned.

2 i. e. is worse than the loss of ten thousand Tybalts.

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