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Scalus, Prince of Verona.
Paris, a young Nobleman in Love with Juliet,
and Kinsman to the Prince.
Mountague, l. Two Lords of antient Families, Ene-
Capulet, mies to each other.
Romeo, Son to Mountague.
Mercutio, Kinsman to the Prince, and Friend to
Romeo.
Benvolio, Kinsman and Friend to Romeo.
Tybalt, Kinsman to Capulet.
Friar Lawrence.
Friar John.
Balthasar, Servant to Romeo.
Tage to Paris.
$o. }servants to Capulet.
regory,
Abram, Servant to Mountague.
Apothecary.

Lady Mountague, Wife to Mountague.
Lady Capulet, Wife to Capulet.

Juliet, Daughter to Capulet, in Love with Romeo.

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Citizens of Verona, several Men and Women Re/ations to Capulet, Maskers, Guards, and other Attendants. **

The SCENE, in the beginning of the Fifth Aff, is in Mantua , during all the rest of the Play, in and near Verona.

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SA AZ P.S. O. W.
FKegory, a my word we'll not carry Coals. . .
Greg. No, for then we should be Colliers.
Sam. I mean, if we be in Choler, we'll draw.

Greg., Ay, while you live, draw your Neck out o'th. Collar.

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to the Wall. Wo L. V.

B 2. Sam,

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have fought with the Men, I will be civil with the Maids,

and cut off their Heads.
Greg. The Heads of the Maids?

Sam. Ay, the Heads of the Maids, or their Maiden-heads,

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Enter Benvolio. Greg. Say better: here comes one of my Master's Kinsmen. Sam. Yes, better. Abr. You Lie. Sam. Draw, if you be Men. Gregory, remember thy washing blow. [They fight. Ben. Part, Fools, put up your Swords, you know not what you do. Enter Tybalt. Tjb. 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 Sword, Or manage it to part these Men with me. 77%. What draw, and talk of Peace? I hate the word As I hate Hell, all Mountagues and thee: Have at thee, Coward. [Fight. Enter three or four Citizens with Clubs, Offic. Clubs, Bills, and Partisans ! strike! beat them down, Down with the Capulets, down with the Mountagues. Enter old Capulet in his Gown, and Lady Capulet. Cap. What noise is this? Give me my long Sword, hot La. Cap. A Crutch, a Crutch: why call you for a Sword? Cap. A Sword, I say : Old Mountague is come, And fleurishes his Blide in spight of me. Enter old Mountague and Lady Mountague. Moun. Thou Villain, Capulet—Hold me not, let mego. La. AMoun. Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a Foe. Enter Prince with Attendants. Prin. Rebellious Subjećts, Enemies to Peace, Prophaners of this Neighbour-stained Steel Will they not hear? What ho, you Men, you Beasts, That quench the Fire of your pernicious Rage, With purple Fountains issuing from your veins: Qn pain of Torture, from these bloody Hands Throw your mistemper’d Weapons to the ground, And hear the Sentence of your moved Prince. Three civil Broils, bred of an airy word, By thee, old Capulet, and Mountague, Have thrice disturb’d the quiet of our Streets, And made Perona's antient Citizens Cast by their grave beseeming Ornaments, - B 3 To

2.078 Romeo and Juliet, - |

To wield old Partisans, in Hands as old,
Cankred with Peace, to part your Cankred-hate;
If ever you disturb our Streets again,
Your Lives shall pay the Forfeit of the Peace.
For this time all the rest depart away:
You, Capulet, shall go along with me ;
And, Mountague, come you this Afternoon,
To know our further Pleasure in this case,

To old Free-town, our common Judgment-place: o

Once more, on pain of Death, all Men depart.
[Exeunt Prince and Capulet, &c.
La. Moun. Who set this ancient Quarrel new abroach:
Speak, Nephew, were you by when it began? -
Ben. Here were the Servants of your Adversary,
And yours, close fighting, eer I did approach;
I drew to part them: In the instant came
The fiery Tibalt, with his Sword prepar’d,
Which as he breath'd Defiance to my Ears,
He swong 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. AMoun. O where is Romeo, saw you him to Day &
Right glad am I, 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 Sycamour,
That Westward rooteth from this City side,
So early walking did I see you Son; t
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,
Which then most sought, where most might not be found,
Being one too many by my weary self,
Pursued my Humour, not pursuing his,
And gladly shun'd, who gladly fled from me.
Moun. Many a Morning hath he there been scen
With Tears augmenting the fresh Morning Dew,
Adding to Clouds, more Clouds, with his deep sighs:
But all so soon as the all-cheering Sun, Should,

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