This service is brought to you today by:
mag wheels /
power slider /
pull plugs /
ford truck /
chrome lug nuts /
xantrex power inverter /
havis shields /
auto eject /
Ford Truck Fan / Public Safety Equipment
The Tragedie of Romeo and Juliet Page: 33
Enter.
Rom. This Gentleman the Princes neere Alie,
My very Friend hath got his mortall hurt
In my behalfe, my reputation stain'd
With Tibalts slaunder, Tybalt that an houre
Hath beene my Cozin: O Sweet Iuliet,
Thy Beauty hath made me Effeminate,
And in my temper softned Valours steele.
Enter Benuolio.
Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, braue Mercutio's is dead,
That Gallant spirit hath aspir'd the Cloudes,
Which too vntimely here did scorne the earth
Rom. This daies blacke Fate, on mo daies depend,
This but begins, the wo others must end.
Enter Tybalt.
Ben. Here comes the Furious Tybalt backe againe
Rom. He gon in triumph, and Mercutio slaine?
Away to heauen respectiue Lenitie,
And fire and Fury, be my conduct now.
Now Tybalt take the Villaine backe againe
That late thou gau'st me, for Mercutios soule
Is but a little way aboue our heads,
Staying for thine to keepe him companie:
Either thou or I, or both, must goe with him
Tib. Thou wretched Boy that didst consort him here,
Shalt with him hence
Rom. This shall determine that.
They fight. Tybalt falles.
Ben. Romeo, away be gone:
The Citizens are vp, and Tybalt slaine,
Stand not amaz'd, the Prince will Doome thee death
If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away
Rom. O! I am Fortunes foole
Ben. Why dost thou stay?
Exit Romeo.
Enter Citizens.
Citi. Which way ran he that kild Mercutio?
Tibalt that Murtherer, which way ran he?
Ben. There lies that Tybalt
Citi. Vp sir go with me:
I charge thee in the Princes names obey.
Enter Prince, old Montague, Capulet, their Wiues and all.
Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this Fray?
Ben. O Noble Prince, I can discouer all
The vnluckie Mannage of this fatall brall:
There lies the man slaine by young Romeo,
That slew thy kinsman braue Mercutio
Cap. Wi. Tybalt, my Cozin? O my Brothers Child,
O Prince, O Cozin, Husband, O the blood is spild
Of my deare kinsman. Prince as thou art true,
For bloud of ours, shed bloud of Mountague.
O Cozin, Cozin
Prin. Benuolio, who began this Fray?
Ben. Tybalt here slaine, whom Romeo's hand did slay,
|