Romeo and Juliet | Page 4

and thrust his maids to the wall.
Gregory. The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.
Sampson. '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.
Gregory. The heads of the maids?
Sampson. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in
what sense thou wilt.
Gregory. They must take it in sense that feel it.
Sampson. Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and 'tis known I
am a pretty piece of flesh.
Gregory. '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.
Sampson. My naked weapon is out: quarrel! I will back thee.

Gregory. How! turn thy back and run?
Sampson. Fear me not.
Gregory. No, marry; I fear thee!
Sampson. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
Gregory. I will frown as I pass by; and let them take it as they list.
Sampson. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is
disgrace to them if they bear it.
[Enter Abraham and Balthasar.]
Abraham. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Sampson. I do bite my thumb, sir.
Abraham. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Sampson. Is the law of our side if I say ay?
Gregory. No.
Sampson. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my
thumb, sir.
Gregory. Do you quarrel, sir?
Abraham. Quarrel, sir! no, sir.
Sampson. But if you do, sir, am for you: I serve as good a man as you.
Abraham. No better.
Sampson. Well, sir.
Gregory. Say better; here comes one of my master's kinsmen.

Sampson. Yes, better, sir.
Abraham. You lie.
Sampson. Draw, if you be men.--Gregory, remember thy swashing
blow.
[They fight.]
[Enter Benvolio.]
Benvolio. Part, fools! put up your swords; you know not what you do.
[Beats down their swords.]
[Enter Tybalt.]
Tybalt. What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee
Benvolio, look upon thy death.
Benvolio. I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword, Or manage it to
part these men with me.
Tybalt. What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word As I hate hell,
all Montagues, and thee: Have at thee, coward!
[They fight.]
[Enter several of both Houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens
with clubs.]
1 Citizen. Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! Down
with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!
[Enter Capulet in his gown, and Lady Capulet.]
Capulet. What noise is this?--Give me my long sword, ho!
Lady Capulet. A crutch, a crutch!--Why call you for a sword?

Capulet. My sword, I say!--Old Montague is come, And flourishes his
blade in spite of me.
[Enter Montague and his Lady Montague.]
Montague. Thou villain Capulet!-- Hold me not, let me go.
Lady Montague. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
[Enter Prince, with Attendants.]
Prince. 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 With purple
fountains issuing from your veins,-- On pain of torture, from those
bloody hands Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground And hear
the sentence of your moved prince.-- Three civil brawls, 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 partisans, in hands as old,
Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd 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 farther pleasure in
this case, To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.-- Once more,
on pain of death, all men depart.
[Exeunt Prince and Attendants; Capulet, Lady Capulet, Tybalt, Citizens,
and Servants.]
Montague. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?-- Speak, nephew,
were you by when it began?
Benvolio. Here were the servants of your adversary And yours, close
fighting ere I did approach: I drew to part them: in the instant came The
fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd; Which, as he breath'd defiance to
my ears, He swung 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.
Lady Montague. O, where is Romeo?--saw you him to-day?-- Right
glad I