Shakespeare's Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet. William Shakespeare

carry coals.

      Gregory. No, for then we should be colliers.

      Sampson. I mean, an we be in choler we'll draw.

      Gregory. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar.

      Sampson. I strike quickly, being moved.

      Gregory. But thou art not quickly moved to strike.

      Sampson. A dog of the house of Montague moves me. 10

      Gregory. To move is to stir, and to be valiant is to stand; therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away.

      Sampson. A dog of that house shall move me to stand; I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.

      Gregory. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall.

      Sampson. True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall. Therefore 20 I will push Montague's men from the wall, 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 and cut off their heads.

      Gregory. Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of the Montagues.

      Sampson. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I 30 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 a disgrace to them if they bear it. 40

      Enter Abram and Balthasar

      Abram. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

      Sampson. I do bite my thumb, sir.

      Abram. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

      Sampson. [Aside to Gregory] 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?

      Abram. Quarrel, sir! no, sir. 50

      Sampson. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man as you.

      Abram. No better.

      Sampson. Well, sir.

      Gregory. [Aside to Sampson] Say 'better'; here comes one of my master's kinsmen.

      Sampson. Yes, better, sir.

      Abram. You lie.

      Sampson. Draw, if you be men.—Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. [They fight. 60

      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

      70

      First 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 Lady Montague

      Montague. Thou villain Capulet!—Hold me not, let me go.

      Lady Montague. Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.

      Enter Prince, with his train

      Prince. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,

      Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel—

      80

      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

      90

      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 further pleasure in this case,

      To old Freetown, our common judgment-place.—

      100

      Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.

      [Exeunt all but Montague, Lady Montague, and Benvolio.

      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