Citizens of Verona; kinsfolk of both houses; Maskers, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants. Chorus. SCENE: Verona; Mantua. THE PROLOGUE Enter Chorus. Chor. Two households, both alike in dignity, The which if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. ACT I-SCENE I Verona. A public place. 1 Enter Sampson and Gregory, of the house of Capulet, Sam. Gregory, on my word, we 'll not carry coals. Gre. No, for then we should be colliers. Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we 'll draw. Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar. Sam. I strike quickly, being moved. Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike. Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves me. Gre. To move is to stir, and to be valiant is to stand: therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away. [wall. Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. Gre. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the Sam. 'Tis true; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall and thrust his maids to the wall. Gre. The quarrel is between our masters and us their men. Sam. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads. Gre. The heads of the maids? Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt. Gre. They must take it in sense that feel it. Sam. Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh. Gre. 'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of Montagues. Enter Abraham and Balthasar. Sam. My naked weapon is out: quarrel; I will back thee. Sam. Fear me not. Gre. No, marry; I fear thee! Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. Gre. I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list. Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace 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. [Aside to Gre.] Is the law of our side, if I say ay? Gre. No. Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir. Gre. Do you quarrel, sir? Abr. Quarrel, sir! no, sir. Sam. But if you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man Abr. No better. Sam. Well, sir. [as you. Enter Benvolio. Gre. [Aside to Sam.] Say 'better': here comes one of my Sam. Yes, better, sir. Abr. You lie. [master's kinsmen. Sam. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing [They fight. [Beating down their weapons. blow. Ben. Part, fools! Put up your swords; you know not what you do. Enter Tybalt. Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Ben. I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword, Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, [They fight. Enter several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter First Off. Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! Enter old Montague and Lady Montague. Mon. Thou villain Capulet!-Hold me not, let me go. Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts, Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. [Exeunt all but Montague, Lady Montague, and Benvolio. Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun Towards him I made; but he was ware of me, I, measuring his affections by my own, Which then most sought where most might not be found, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. Black and portentous must this humour prove, Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, Enter Romeo. Ben. See, where he comes: so please you step aside, Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Rom. Ben. But new struck nine. Rom. [Exeunt Montague and Lady. Is the day so young ? Ay me! sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast? Ben. It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! Here's much to do with hate, but more with love: O any thing, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! |