As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: [They fight. Enter several Partizans of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with Clubs. i Cit. Clubs, bills, and partizans! strike! beat them down ! Down with the Capulets! down with the Monta gues ! Enter Capulet, in his gown; and Lady Capulet. sword, ho! for a sword? Cap. My sword, I say !-Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me. Enter Montague and Lady Montague. Mon. Thou villain, Capulet,-Hold me not, let me go. La. Non. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe. Enter Prince, with Attendants. beasts, Throw your mis-temper'd weapons to the ground, Capulet, Tybalt, Citizens, and Servants, Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new a broach:Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began? Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary, And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: I drew to part them; in the instant came The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepard; Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, He swung about his head, and cut the winds, Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss’d him in scorn: While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, Came more and more, and fought on part and part, Till the prince came, who parted either part. La. Mon. O, where is Romeo !-saw you him to-day? Right glad I am, he was not at this fray. Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Where,-underneath the grove of sycamore, That westward rooteth from the city's side, So early walking did I see your son: Towards him I made; but he was ’ware of me, And stole into the covert of the wood: I, measuring his affections by my own, That most are busied when they are most alone,Pursu'd my humour, not pursuing his, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs: But all so soon as the all-cheering sun Should in the furthest east begin to draw The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, Away from light steals home my heavy son, And private in his chamber pens himself; Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out, Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends: But he, his own affections' counsellor, Is to himself—I will not say, how true- Enter Romeo, at a distance. Ben. See, where he comes: So please you, step aside; I'll know his grievance, or be much deny'd. · Mon. I would, thou wert so happy by thy stay, To hear true shrift.--Come, madam, let's away. [Exeunt Montague and Lady. Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Rom. Is the day so young? Ben. But new struck nine. 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. Not having that, which, having, makes them short. Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! Where shall we dine?-0 me!-What fray was here? No, coz, I rather weep. At thy good heart's oppression. shown, [going. Ben. Soft, I will go along; An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. Rom. Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; This is not Romeo, he's some other where. |