Capulets.
Sampson.
Gregory, on my word, 1 note
we'll not carry
coals.
Greg.
No, for then we should be colliers.
Sam.
I mean, an' we be in Choler, we'll
draw.
Greg.
Ay, while you live, draw your Neck out of
the Collar.
Sam.
I strike quickly, being mov'd.
Greg.
But thou art not quickly mov'd to strike.
-- 6 --
Sam.
A dog of the House of Montague moves me.
Greg.
To move, is to stir, and to be valiant, is to
stand; therefore, if thou art mov'd, thou runn'st
away.
Sam.
A dog of that House shall move me to stand.
I will take the wall of any man, or maid of Montague's.
Greg.
That shews thee a weak slave; for the weakest
goes to the wall.
Sam.
True, and therefore women, being the weakest,
are ever thrust to the wall:—therefore I will push
Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids
to the wall.
Greg.
The quarrel is between our masters, and us
their men.
Sam.
'Tis all one, I will shew myself a tyrant: when
I have fought with the men, I will be 2 notecruel with the
maids, and cut off their heads.
Greg.
The heads of the maids?
Sam.
Ay, the heads of the maids, or the maiden-heads,
take it in what sense thou wilt.
Greg.
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.
Greg.
'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou
hadst been Poor John. Draw thy tool, here comes of
the House of the Montagues.
Enter Abram and Balthasar.
Sam.
My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will
back thee.
Greg.
How, turn thy back and run?
Sam.
Fear me not.
Greg.
No, marry: I fear thee!—
-- 7 --
Sam.
Let us take the law of our sides, let them
begin.
Greg.
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.6Q0243
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.
Is the law on our side, if I say, ay?
Greg.
No.
Sam.
No, Sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, Sir:
but I bite my thumb, Sir.
Greg.
Do you quarrel, Sir?
Abr.
Quarrel, Sir? no, Sir.
Sam.
If you do, Sir, I am for you; I serve as good
a man, as you.
Abr.
No better.
Sam.
Well, Sir.
3 noteEnter Benvolio.
Greg.
Say, better. Here comes one of my master's
kinsmen.
Sam.
Yes, better, Sir.
Abr.
You lye.
Sam.
Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember
thy swashing blow.
[They fight.
Ben.
Part, fools, put up your swords, you know
not what you do.
Enter Tybalt.
Tyb.
What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
-- 8 --
Ben.
I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
Tyb.
What drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word
As I hate hell, all Montagues and thee.
Have at thee, coward.
[Fight.
Enter three or four citizens with clubs.
Cit.
Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down!
Down with the Capulets, down with the Montagues!
Enter old Capulet in his gown, and lady Capulet.
Cap.
What noise is this? 4 notegive me my long sword, ho!
La. Cap.
A crutch, a crutch. Why call you for a sword?
Cap.
My sword, I say: old Montague is come,
And flourishes his blade in spight of me.
Enter old Montague, and Lady Montague.
Mon.
Thou villain, Capulet—Hold me not,
let me go.
La. Mon.
Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.
Enter Prince with attendants.
Prin.
Rebellious Subjects, enemies to peace,
Profaners of this neighbour stained steel—
Will they not hear? what ho! you men, you beasts,
That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
-- 9 --
With purple fountains issuing from your veins;
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mis-temper'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 Montague,
Have thrice disturb'd the Quiet of our streets;
And made Verona's ancient Citizens
Cast by their grave, beseeming, ornaments;
To wield old partizans, 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, Montague, come you this afternoon,
To know our further pleasure in this case,
To old Free-town, our common judgment place:
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
[Exeunt Prince and Capulet, &c.
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
