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The fearful paffage of their death-mark'd love,
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What bere fhall mifs, our toil fhall ftrive to mend.
this fear of his, Cicero has likewife alluded in his fecond book De Legibus. I had almost forgot to obferve, that Pliny exprefly fays burning of dead bodies was not an old inftitution among the Romans; but their dead were interr'd, -Ipfum cremare apud Romanos non fuit veteris inflituti: terrâ condebantur.
ESCALUS, Prince of Verona.
Paris, a young Nobleman in love with Juliet, and kinfman to the Prince.
Montague, Two Lords of ancient families, enemies, to Capulet, each other.
Romeo, Son to Montague.
Mercutio, Kinfman to the Prince, and Friend to Romeo. Benvolio, Kinfman and Friend to Romeo.
Tybalt, Kinsman to Capulet.
Balthafar, Servant to Romeo.
Peter, Servant to the Nurse.
Lady Montague, Wife to Montague.
Lady Capulet, Wife to Capulet.
Juliet, Daughter to Capulet, in love with Romeo,
Citizens of Verona, feveral men and women relations to Capulet, Mafkers, Guards, Watch, and other Attendants.
The SCENE, in the beginning of the fifth Act, is in Mantua; during all the rest of the Play, in and near Verona,
ROMEO and JULIET.
A C T I.
SCENE, the Street in Verona.
Enter Samplon and Gregory, (with fwords and bucklers) two fervants of the Capulets.
REGORY, onmy word, we'll not carry coals.
Greg. Ay, while you live, draw
out of the collar.
Sam. I ftrike quickly, being mov'd.
Greg. But thou art not quickly mov'd to ftrike. Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves me. Greg. To move, is to ftir; and to be valiant, is to ftand: therefore, if thou art mov'd, thou runn'ft away. Sam. A dog of that houfe fhall move me to ftand: I will take the wall of any man, or maid, of Montague's. Greg. That fhews thee a weak flave; for the weakest goes to the wall.
Sam. True, and therefore women, being the weak eft veffels, are ever thruft to the wall:-therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thruft his maids to the wall.
Greg The quarrel is between our mafters, and us their men.
Sam. 'l'is all one, I will fhew myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids, and cut off their heads.
Greg. The heads of the maids ?
Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads, take it in what fenfe thou wilt.
Greg. They must take it in fenfe, that feel it.
Sam. Me they fhall feel, while I am able to ftand: and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh.
Greg. 'Tis well thou art not fifh: if thou hadft, thou hadft been Poor John. Draw thy tool, here comes of the houfe of the Montagues.
Enter Abram and Balthafar.
Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee.
Greg. How: turn thy back and run
Sam. Fear me not.
Greg. No, marry: I fear thee!
Sam. Let us take the law of our fides: let them begin.
Greg. I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they lift.
Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them, which is a difgrace to them if they bear it. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?
Sam. I do bite my thumb, Sir.
Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?
Sam. No, Sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, Sir: but I bite my thumb, Sir.
Greg. Do you quarrel, Sir?
Abr. Quarrel, Sir? no, Sir.
Sam. If you do, Sir, I am for you; I ferve as good
a man, as you.
Abr. No better.
Sam. Well, Sir.
Greg. Say, better: here comes one of my mafter's kinfmen.
Sam. Yes, better, Sir.
Abr. You lie.
Sam. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy fwashing blow.
[They fight. Ben. Part, fools, put up your swords, you know not what you do.
Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy fword, Or 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:
Have at thee, coward.
Enter three or four citizens with clubs.
Cit. Clubs, bills, and partifans! ftrike! beat them
Down with the Capulets, down with the Montagues! Enter old 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 fpight of me.
Enter old Montague, with Lady Montague. Mon. Thou villain, Capulet- Hold me not, let
La. Mon. Thou fhal: not fir a foot to feek a foe.