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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,
Sam. Is the law on our fide, if I fay, ay, ~
Sam. No, Sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, Sir: but I bite my thumb, Sir.
Greg. Do you quarrel, Sir?
Abt. 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.
(3) Enter Benvolio.
Greg. Say, better. Here comes one of my mafter's kinfmen.
Sam. Yes, better, Sir,
Abr. You lye,
Sam. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy fwashing blow..
Ben. Part, fools, put up your fwords, you know not what you do.
Tyb. What art thou drawn among thefe heartless hinds?
Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up-thy fword, manage it to part thefe men with me.
• Sam. I will bite my thumb at them, which is a difgrace to them, if they bear it.] So it fignifies in Randolpb's Muses LookingGlafs, act iii. fc. ii. p 43.
Orgylus. "To bite his thumb at me.
Argus. "Why fhould not a man bite his own thumb?
Org. "At me? were I fcorn'd, to fee men bite their thumbs; Rapiers and daggers, he's the fon of a whore." Dr. GRAY. (3) Enter Benvolio.] Much of this fcene is added fince the firft edition, but probably by Shakespeare, fince we find it in that of he year 1599.
Tyb. What drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the
As I hate hell, all Montagues and thee.
Have at thee,
Enter three or four Citizens with Clubs.
Cit. Clubs, bills, and partifans! ftrike! beat them down!
Down with the Capulets, down with the Montagues!
Enter old Capulet in his gown, and lady Capulet.
Cap. What noife is this? (4) give me my long sword, ho!
Lad. 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, and Lady Montague.
Mon. Thou villain, Capulet
Hold me not,
let me go.
La. Mon. Thou fhalt not ftir a foot to feek a foe.
Enter Prince with attendants,
Prin. Rebellious Subjects, enemies to peace,
Will they not hear? What ho! you men, you beafts,
(4) give me my long fword,] The long fword was the fword ufed in war, which was fometimes wielded with both hands
Cankred with peace, to part your cankred hate;
[Exeunt Prince and Capulet, &c.
La. Mon. Who fet this ancient quarrel new abroach; Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began? Ben. Here were the fervants of your adversary, And yours, clofe fighting, ere I did approach; I drew to part them: In the inftant came The fiery Tybalt, with his fword prepar'd, Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, He fwung about his head, and cut the winds, Who, nothing hurt withal, hifs'd him in fcorn. While we were interchanging thrufts 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 am I, he was not at this fray.
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd Sun,
Tow'rds him I made; but he was 'ware of me,
I, meafuring his affections by my own,
(5) That most are bufied, when they're moft alone,
(5) That moft are bufied, &c.] Edition 1597. Inftead of which it is in the other editions thus.
by my own.
Which then moft fought, where might moft not be found,
Being one too many by my weary felf,
Purfued my bumour, &c.
Pursued my humour, not purfuing him;
Black and portentous muft this humour prove,
Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
Is to himself, I will not fay, how true,
Could we but learn from whence his forrows grow,
(6) And gladly hunn'd, &c] The ten lines following, not in edition 1597, but in the next 1599.
(7) Ben. Have you importun'd, &c] Thefe two fpeeches alfo cmitted in edition 1597, but inferted in 1599.
(8) Or dedicate his beauty to the Same.] When we come to conLider, that there is fome power elfe befides balmy air, that brings forth, and makes the tender buds fpread themselves, I do not think it improbable that the Poet wrote;
Or dedicate his beauty to the Sun.
Or, according to the more obfolete fpelling, Sunne; which brings it nearer to the traces of the corrupted text.
I cannot but fufpect that fome lines are loft, which connected this fimile more clofely with the foregoing fpeech; thefe lines, if fuch there were, lamented the danger that Romeo would die of his melancholy, before his virtues or abilities are known to the world.
Ben. See, where he comes. So pleafe you, ftep afide, I'll know his grievance, or be much deny'd.
Mon. I would, thou wert fo happy by thy ftay,
Ben. Good-morrow, coufin.
Ben. But new ftruck nine.
Rom. Ah me, fad hours feem long!
Was that my father that went hence fo faft?
Ben. In love?
Ben. Of love?
Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. Ben. Alas, that love, fo gentle in his view, Should be fo' tyrannous and rough in proof!
Rom. Alas, that love, whofe view is muffled ftill, Should without eyes fee path-ways (9) to his will! Where shall we dine? -Ô me!-What fray was here? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.
O heavy lightners! ferious vanity!
Feather of lead, bright fmoke, cold fire, fick health!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
(9)-to bis will!] Sir T. Hanmer, and after him Dr. Warburton, read, to his ill. The prefent reading has fome obfcurity; the meaning inay be, that love finds out means to pursue his defire. That the blind fhould find paths to ill is no great wonder.
(1) Why then, O brawling love, &c.] Of thefe lines neither the fenfe nor occafion is very evident. He is not yet in love with an enemy, and to love one and hate another is no fuch uncommon ftate, as can deferve all this toil of antithefis,