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Is this the poultis for my aking bones?
Henceforward do your messages yourself.

Jul. Here's such a coil; come, what says Romeo?
Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
ful. I have.
Nurse. Then hie you hence to Friar Lawrence' cell,
There stays a husband to make you a wife.
Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.
Hie you to church, I must another way,
To fetch a ladder, by the which your

love Must climb a bird's nest soon, when it is dark, I am the drudge and toil in your delight, But you shall bear the burden soon at night. Go, I'll to dinner, hie you to the cell. Jul. Hie to high fortune ;honeft nurse, farewel.


SCE N E VI, Changes to the monastery.

Enter Friar Lawrence and Romeo,
Fri. So smile the heav'ns upon this holy act,
That after-hours with sorrow chide us not !

Rom. Amen, amen! but come what forrow can,
It cannot countervail th' exchange of joy,
That one short minute gives me in her sight.
Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
Then love-devouring death do what he dare,
It is enough I may but call her mine.

Fri. “Thele violent delights have violent eads, " And in their triumph die; like fire and powder, " Which, as they meet, consume. The sweetest honey Is lothsome in its own deliciousnefs, And in the taste confounds the appetite; Therefore love mod’rately, long love doth fo; Too swift arrives as tardy as too flow.

Enter Juliet.
Here comes the lady. O, fo light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint;
* A lover may bestride the goffamour,
That idles in the wanton summer-air,


* And yet not fall, fo light is vanity.

ful. Good even to my ghostly confeífor.
Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
Jul. As much to him, else are his thanks too much.

Rom. Ah! Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heap'd like inine, and that thy skill be more
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This reighbour air; and let rich music's tongue
Unfold th' imagin'd happiness that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.

Jul. Conceit more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his fubftance, nor of ornament:
They are but beggars, that can count their worth;
But my true love is grown to such excess,
I cannot sum up one half of

my wealth.
Fri. Come, come with me, and we will make short
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone, (work;
Till holy church incorp'rate two in one. [Exeunt.

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А с т III. S CE N E 1.

The street.
Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, and Servants.

Ben. I

The day is hot, the Capulets abroad;
And if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl;
For now these hot days is the mad blood stirring.

Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows, that when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword e pon the table, and says, God send me no need of thee! &rdly the operation of the second cup, draws it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.

Ben. Am I like such a fellow !

Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy rood as any in Italy; and as soon mov'd to be moody, and as soon mocdy to be mov’d.

Ben. And what to?

Mer. · Nay, an' there were two such, we nould have sccre shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou !

why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair

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more or a hair less in his beard, than thou hast: thou • wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no • other reason, but because thou hast basel eyes; what

eye, but such an eye, would spy out such a quarrel ? • thy head is as full of quarrels, as an egg is full of meat; • and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg. • for quarrelling : thou hast quarrell’d with a man for

coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy

dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not • fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet be• fore Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes • with old ribband? and yet thou wilt tutor me for quarrelling!

Ben. If I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man: should buy the fee-limple of ny life for an hour and.a: quarter. Mer. The fee-simple: O simple !

Enter Tybalt, and others.
Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets.
Mer. By my heel, I care not.

Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
Gentlemen, good.den, a word with one of you.

Mer. And but one word with one of us ? couple it with something, make it a word and a blow,

Tyb. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, if you will give me occasion.

Mer. Could you not take some occasion without gi-ving?

Tyb. Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo.

Mier. Confort ! what dost thou make us minstrels! if thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but dircords : here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance, Zounds! consorts !

[ Laying his hand on his sword.. Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men : Either withdraw. unto some private place, Or reason coldly of your grievances, Or else depart; here all eyei gaze on us.

Mer. Mens' eyes were made to look, and let them I will not budge for.no man's pleasure, I, [gaze,

Enter Romeo. Tyb. Well, peace be with you, Sir! here comes my


Mer. But I'll be hang'd, Sir, if he wear your livery: Marry, go first to field, he'll be your follower ; Your Worship in that fense may call him man.

Tyb. Romeo, the love I bear thee, can afford
No better term than this, Thou art a villain. -

Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thec
Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting Villain I am none;
7 herefore tarewel; I see thou know'st me not.

Tyb, Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou bast done me, therefore turn and draw,

Rom. I do protest I never injur'd thee,
But love the better than thou can't devise,
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love,
And fo, good Capulet, (whose name I tender
As dearly as my own), be satisfied.

Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile fubmiffion!
Ab! la Stoccata carries it away.
I ybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk ?

Tyb. What would'At 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 lhall use me hereafter, dry.beat the rest of the eight, Will you pluck your sword out of his pilche by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out. Tyb, I am for you.

[Drawing Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. Mer. Come, Sir, your passado.

[Mercutio and Tybalt fight.
Rom. Draw, Benvolio- beat down their weapons
Gentlemen-for shame, for bear this outrage.
Tybalt-Mercutio--the Prince expressly hath
Forbidden bandying in Verona streets.
Hold, Tybalc, -good Mercutio. [Exit Tybalt.

Mer. I am hurt
A plague of both the bouses! I am fped :
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.

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 pepper'd, l warrant, for this world: A plague of both your houses ! What, 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 arithmetic ? why the devil came you between us?: I was hurt under your arm.

Rom. I thought all for the best,

Mer. Help me into fome house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint; à plague o' both your houfes !
They bare made worms-meat of me,
I have it, and soundly too. Plague o' your houses!

[Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio,.

Rom. This Gentleman, the prince's pear ally,
My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
Jo my behalf; my reputation stain'd
With Tybalt's slander ; Tybalt, that an hour :
Hath been my cousin : 0 Tweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper foft'ned valour's feel..

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 does depends : This but begins.the woe, others must end..

Enter Tybalt.
Ben, Here comes the furious Tybalt back again,'.

Rom. Alive? in triumph? and Mercutio slain ? :
Away to heav'n, respective lenity,
And fire-ey'd fury bé my conduct now!
Now, Tybalt; take the villain back again,
That late thou gav'st ine ; for Mercutio's soul i
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company:
Or thou or ), or both, must go with him..

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