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Enter BENVOLIO, at a distance.
Gre. Say-better; here comes one of my master's kinfmen.
Sam. Yes, better, fir.
Abr. You lie.
Sam. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remember thy fwathing blow.
[They fight. Ben. Part, fools; put up your fwords; you know not what you do. [Beats down their words.
Tyb. What, art thou drawn among thefe heartless hinds?
Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death, Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy fword, manage it to part thefe men with me. Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word,
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
[They fight. Enter feveral Partizans of both Houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with Clubs.
1 Cit. Clubs, bills, and partizans! ftrike! beat them down!
Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!
Enter CAPULET, in his gown; and Lady CAPULET. Cap. What noife is this?-Give me my long fword, ho!
La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch!-Why call you for a fword?
Cap. My fword, I fay!-Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in fpite of me.
Enter MONTAGUE and Lady MONTAGUE.
Mon. Thou villain, Capulet,-Hold me not, let me go.
La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to feek a foe.
Enter Prince, with Attendants.
Prin. Rebellious fubjects, enemies to peace,
That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
Caft by their grave befeeming ornaments,
Your lives fhall pay the forfeit of the peace.
CAPULET, TYBALT, Citizens, and Servants,
And yours, clofe fighting ere I did approach:
Right glad I am, he was not at this fray.
And gladly fhunn'd who gladly fled from me.
Should in the furtheft eaft begin to draw
Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn of him. Ben. Have you impórtun'd him by any means? Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends: But he, his own affections' counsellor,
Is to himfelf I will not fay how true-
Could we but learn from whence his forrows grow,
Enter ROMEO, at a distance.
Ben. See, where he comes: So please you, step
I'll know his grievance, or be much deny'd.
Ben. Good morrow, cousin.
Is the day fo young?
Ah me! fad hours feem long.
Was that my father that went hence so fast?
Ben. It was: What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes
Ben. In love?
Ben. Of love?
Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. Ben. Alas, that love, fo gentle in his view, Should be fo tyrannous and rough in proof!
Rom. Alas, that love, whofe view is muffled ftill, Should, without eyes, fee pathways to his will!
Where shall we dine?-Oh me!-What fray was
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here's much to do with hate, but more with love:-
Mif-fhapen chaos of well-feeming forms!
No, coz, I rather weep.
Rom. Good heart, at what?
At thy good heart's oppreffion..
Rom. Why, fuch is love's tranfgreffion.-Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breaft; Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prefs'd With more of thine: this love, that thou haft
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Soft, I will go along; And if you leave me fo, you do me wrong. Rom. Tut, I have loft myself; I am not here; This is not Romeo, he's fome other where. Ben. Tell me in fadnefs, who fhe is you love. Rom. What, fhall I groan, and tell thee? Ben.
But fadly tell me, who.
Groan? why, no;
Rom. Bid a fick man in sadness make his will:Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is fo ill!