The Tragedie of Romeo and Juliet
Page: 2

Sam. Is the Law of our side, if I say I?
Gre. No

Sam. No sir, I do not bite my Thumbe at you sir: but
I bite my Thumbe sir

Greg. Do you quarrell sir?
Abra. Quarrell sir? no sir

Sam. If you do sir, I am for you, I serue as good a man as you
Abra. No better?
Samp. Well sir.
Enter Benuolio.

Gr. Say better: here comes one of my masters kinsmen

Samp. Yes, better

Abra. You Lye

Samp. Draw if you be men. Gregory, remember thy
washing blow.

They Fight.

Ben. Part Fooles, put vp your Swords, you know not
what you do.
Enter Tibalt.

Tyb. What art thou drawne, among these heartlesse
Hindes? Turne thee Benuolio, looke vpon thy death

Ben. I do but keepe the peace, put vp thy Sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me

Tyb. What draw, and talke of peace? I hate the word
As I hate hell, all Mountagues, and thee:
Haue at thee Coward.

Fight.

Enter three or foure Citizens with Clubs.

Offi. Clubs, Bils, and Partisons, strike, beat them down
Downe with the Capulets, downe with the Mountagues.
Enter old Capulet in his Gowne, and his wife.

Cap. What noise is this? Giue me my long Sword ho

Wife. A crutch, a crutch: why call you for a Sword?
Cap. My Sword I say: Old Mountague is come,
And flourishes his Blade in spight of me.
Enter old Mountague, & his wife.

Moun. Thou villaine Capulet. Hold me not, let me go
2.Wife. Thou shalt not stir a foote to seeke a Foe.
Enter Prince Eskales, with his Traine.

Prince. Rebellious Subiects, Enemies to peace,
Prophaners of this Neighbor-stained Steele,
Will they not heare? What hoe, you Men, you Beasts,
That quench the fire of your pernitious Rage,
With purple Fountaines issuing from your Veines:
On paine of Torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mistemper'd Weapons to the ground,
And heare the Sentence of your mooued Prince.
Three ciuill Broyles, bred of an Ayery word,
By thee old Capulet and Mountague,
Haue thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets,
And made Verona's ancient Citizens
Cast by their Graue beseeming Ornaments,
To wield old Partizans, in hands as old,