[Sc. XI.]
Enter Benuolio, Mercutio.
Ben: I pree thee good Mercutio lets retire,
The day is hot, the Capels are abroad.
Mer: Thou art like one of those, that when hee comes
into the confines of a tauerne, claps me his rapier on the
boord, and sayes, God send me no need of thee: and by 5
the operation of the next cup of wine, he drawes it on the
drawer, when indeed there is no need.
Ben: Am I like such a one?
Mer: Go too, thou art as hot a Iacke being mooude,
and as soone mooude to be moodie, and as soone moodie to 10
be mooud.
Ben: And what too?
Mer: Nay, and there were two such, wee should haue
none shortly. Didst not thou fall out with a man for cracking
of nuts, hauing no other reason, but because thou hadst 15
hasill eyes? what eye but such an eye would haue pickt out
such a quarrell? With another for coughing, because hee
wakd thy dogge that lay a sleepe in the Sunne? With a
Taylor for wearing his new dublet before Easter: and
with another for tying his new shoes with olde ribands.
And yet thou wilt forbid me of quarrelling.
Ben: By my head heere comes a Capolet.
Enter Tybalt.
Mer: By my heele I care not.
Tyb: Gentlemen a word with one of you.
Mer: But one word with one of vs? You had best couple 25
it with somewhat, and make it a word and a blow.
Tyb: I am apt enough to that if I haue occasion.
Mer: Could you not take occasion?
Tyb: Mercutio thou consorts with Romeo?
Mer: Consort. Zwounes consort? the slaue wil make fidlers 30
of vs. If you doe sirra, look for nothing but discord: For
heeres my fiddle-sticke.
Enter Romeo.
Tyb: Well peace be with you, heere comes my man.
Mer: But Ile be hanged if he weare your lyuery: Mary
go before into the field, and he may be your follower, so in 35
that sence your worship may call him man.
Tyb: Romeo the hate I beare to thee can affoord no better
words then these, thou art a villaine.
Rom: Tybalt the loue I beare to thee, doth excuse the
appertaining rage to such a word: villaine am I none, therfore 40
I well perceiue thou knowst me not.
Tyb: Bace boy this cannot serue thy turne, and therefore
drawe.
Ro: I doe protest I neuer iniured thee, but loue thee better
than thou canst deuise, till thou shall know the reason of 45
my loue.
Mer: O dishonorable vile submission. Allastockado caries
it away. You Ratcatcher, come backe, come backe.
Tyb: What wouldest with me?
Mer: Nothing King of Cates, but borrow one of your 50
nine liues, therefore come drawe your rapier out of your
scabard, least mine be about your eares ere you be aware.
Rom: Stay Tibalt, hould Mercutio: Benuolio beate
downe their weapons.
Tibalt vnder Romeos arme thrusts Mercutio, in and flyes.
Mer: Is he gone, hath hee nothing? A poxe on your 55
houses.
Rom: What art thou hurt man, the wound is not deepe.
Mer: Noe not so deepe as a Well, nor so wide as a
barne doore, but it will serue I warrant. What meant you to
come betweene vs? I was hurt vnder your arme. 60
Rom: I did all for the best.
Mer: Apoxe of your houses, I am fairely drest. Sirra
goe fetch me a Surgeon.
Boy: I goe my Lord.
Mer: I am pepperd for this world, I am sped yfaith, he 65
hath made wormes meate of me, & ye aske for me to morrow
you shall finde me a graue-man. A poxe of your houses,
I shall be fairely mounted vpon foure mens shoulders: For
your house of the Mountegues and the Capolets: and then
some peasantly rogue, some Sexton, some base slaue shall 70
write my Epitapth, that Tybalt came and broke the Princes
Lawes, and Mercutio was slaine for the first and second
cause. Wher's the Surgeon?
Boy: Hee's come sir.
Mer: Now heele keepe a mumbling in my guts on the 75
other side, come Benuolio, lend me thy hand: a poxe of
your houses. Exeunt.
Rom: This Gentleman the Princes neere Alie.
My very frend hath tane this mortall wound
In my behalfe, my reputation staind 80
With Tibalts slaunder, Tybalt that an houre
Hath beene my kinsman. Ah Iuliet
Thy beautie makes me thus effeminate,
And in my temper softens valors steele.
Enter Benuolio.
Ben: Ah Romeo Romeo braue Mercutio is dead, 85
That gallant spirit hath a spir'd the cloudes,
Which too vntimely scornd the lowly earth.
Rom: This daies black fate, on more daies doth depend
This but begins what other dayes must end.
Enter Tibalt.
Ben: Heere comes the furious Tibalt backe againe. 90
Rom: A liue in tryumph and Mercutio slaine?
Away to heauen respectiue lenity:
And fier eyed fury be my conduct now.
Now Tibalt take the villaine backe againe,
Which late thou gau'st me: for Mercutios soule, 95
Is but a little way aboue the cloudes,
And staies for thine to beare him company.
Or thou, or I, or both shall follow him.
Fight, Tibalt falles.
Ben: Romeo away, thou seest that Tibalt's slaine,
The Citizens approach, away, begone
Thou wilt be taken.
Rom: Ah I am fortunes slaue.
Exeunt.
Enter Citizens.
Watch: Wher's he that slue Mercutio, Tybalt that villaine?
Ben: There is that Tybalt. 105
Vp sirra goe with vs[1594].
Enter Prince, Capolets wife.
Pry: Where be the vile beginners of this fray?
Ben: Ah Noble Prince I can discouer all
The most vnlucky mannage of this brawle.
Heere lyes the man slaine by yong Romeo, 110
That slew thy kinsman braue Mercutio.
M: Tibalt, Tybalt, O my brothers child,
Vnhappie sight? Ah the blood is spilt
Of my deare kinsman, Prince as thou art true:
For blood of ours, shed bloud of Mountagew. 115
Pry: Speake Benuolio who began this fray?
Ben: Tibalt heere slaine whom Romeos hand did slay.
Romeo who spake him fayre bid him bethinke
How nice the quarrell was.
But Tibalt still persisting in his wrong, 120
The stout Mercutio drewe to calme the storme,
Which Romeo seeing cal'd stay Gentlemen,
And on me cry'd, who drew to part their strife,
And with his agill arme yong Romeo,
As fast as tung crydepeace, sought peace to make. 125
While they were enterchanging thrusts and blows,
Vnder yong Romeos laboring arme to part,
The furious Tybalt cast an enuious thrust,
That rid the life of stout Mercutio.
With that he fled, but presently return'd, 130
And with his rapier braued Romeo:
That had but newly entertain'd reuenge.
And ere I could draw forth my rapyer
To part their furie, downe did Tybalt fall,
And this way Romeo fled. 135
Mo: He is a Mountagew and speakes partiall,
Some twentie of them fought in this blacke strife:
And all those twenty could but kill one life.
I doo intreate sweete Prince thoult iustice giue,
Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo may not liue. 140
Prin: And for that offence
Immediately we doo exile him hence.
I haue an interest in your hates proceeding,
My blood for your rude braules doth lye a bleeding.
But Ile amerce you with so large a fine, 145
That you shall all repent the losse of mine.
I will be deafe to pleading and excuses,
Nor teares nor prayers shall purchase for abuses.
Pittie shall dwell and gouerne with vs still:
Mercie to all but murdrers, pardoning none that kill. 150
Exeunt omnes.