SCENE, during the greater part of the Play, in Verona; once, in the Fifth Act, at Mantua. PROLOGUE. Two households, both alike in dignity, 220 ACT I. SCENE I-A public place. Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, armed with Swords and Bucklers. Sam. Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.* Gre. No, for then we should be colliers. Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of the collar. Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike. Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves me. Gre. To move, is-to stir; and to be valiant, is-to stand to it: therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away. Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. Gre. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes the wall. to Sam. True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall:-therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall. Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us their men. Sam. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads. Gre. The heads of the maids ? Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt. Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it. Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand: and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh. Gre. 'Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John.t Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of the Montagues. Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee. Sam. Fear me not. Gre. No, marry: I fear thee! Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. Gre. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them take it as they list. Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. Enter ABRAM and BELTHAZAR. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir? Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir? Put up with affronts. † Dried hake. 4 Sam. No, Sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, Sir; but I bite my thumb, Sir. Gre. Do you quarrel, Sir? Abr. Quarrel, Sir? no, Sir. Sam. If you do, Sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man as you. Abr. No better. Sam. Well, Sir. Enter BENVOLIO, at a distance. Gre. Say-better; here comes one of my master's kinsmen. Abr. You lie. Sam. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remember thy swashing* blow. do. [They fight. Ben. Part, fools; put up your swords; you know not what you [Beats down their swords. Enter TYBALT. Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword, I hate the word, [They fight. Enter several Partizans of both Houses, who join the Fray; then enter CITIZENS, with Clubs. 1 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. Enter MONTAGUE, and LADY MONTAGUE. Mon. Thou villain, Capulet!-Hold me not, let me go. Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Will they not hear ?-what ho! you men, you beasts,- With purple fountains issuing from your veins, • Slashing. + As we should now say, police. + Angry. Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets; Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate: Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. [Exeunt PRINCE, and Attendants; CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, TYBALT, Citizens, and Servants. Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary, La. Mon. O, where is Romeo ?-saw you him to-day? Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun, That most are busied when they are most alone,- Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, Enter ROMEO, at a distance. Ben. See, where he comes: So please you, step aside; I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. Mon. I would, thou wert so happy by thy stay, Ben. Good morrow, cousin. [Exeunt MONTAGUE, and LADY. 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. Out Ben. Of love? Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! Where shall we dine ?-O me!-What fray was here? Here's much to do with hate, but more with love:- O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this. Dost thou not laugh? Ben. No, coz, I rather weep. Rom. Good heart, at what? Ben. At thy good heart's oppression. Rom. Why, such is love's transgression. Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast; Which thou wilt propagate, to have it press'd With more of thine: this love, that thou hast shown, |