Ben: Abram, Tybalt
Eric: Sampson, Capulet, Romeo
Lucie: Gregory, Romeo, Mercutio
1.1
Sampson:
Gregory,on my words we’ll not carry coals.
Gregory:
No, for then we should be colliers.
Sampson:
A dog of the house of Montague shall move me to stand.I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague’s.
Gregory:
They must take it in sense that feel it.
Sampson:
Me they should feel while I am able to stand and ‘tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.
Gregory:
Draw thy tool. Here comes of the house of Montagues.
Enter Abram
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.
Abram:
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Sampson:
No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you.
Abram:
You lie.
Gregory:
Do you quarrel, sir?
Abram:
Quarrel? No.
Sampson:
Draw if you be men.
They Fight
1.5
Romeo:
What lady’s that which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight?
O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night as a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear
Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight, For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.
Tybalt:
This, by his voice, should be a Montague. Fetch me my rapier, boy. What, dares the slave Come hither covered with an antic face To fleer and scorn at our solemnity ?
Capulet:
Why, how now, kinsman? Wherefore storm you so?
Tybalt:
Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe, A villain that is hither come in spite To scorn at our solemnity this night.
Capulet:
Young Romeo is it?
Tybalt:
’Tis he, that villain Romeo.
Capulet:
Content thee, gentle coz. Let him alone. He bears him like a portly gentleman.
Show a fair presence and put off these frowns, An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
Tybalt:
It fits when such a villain is a guest. I’ll not endure him.
Capulet:
You’ll not endure him! God shall mend my soul, You’ll make a mutiny among my guests,
Tybalt:
Patience perforce with willful choler meeting
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
I will withdraw, but this intrusion shall,
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitt’rest gall.
Scene 3.1
TYBALT
Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
MERCUTIO
And but one word with one of us? couple it with
something; make it a word and a blow.
TYBALT
Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,--
MERCUTIO
Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels?
here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall
make you dance.
Enter ROMEO
TYBALT
Well, here comes my man.
Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford
No better term than this,--thou art a villain.
ROMEO
Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting: villain am I none;
Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not.
TYBALT
Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
ROMEO
I do protest, I never injured thee,
But love thee better than thou canst devise,
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love:
MERCUTIO
O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
Draws
Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?
TYBALT
What wouldst thou have with me?
MERCUTIO
Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine
lives; that I mean to make bold withal.
Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher
by the ears?
TYBALT
I am for you.
Drawing
ROMEO
Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
MERCUTIO
Come, sir, your passado.
They fight
ROMEO
Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage!
Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio!
TYBALT under ROMEO's arm stabs MERCUTIO, and flies
MERCUTIO
I am hurt.
A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.
ROMEO
What, art thou hurt?
MERCUTIO
Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch
ROMEO
Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.
MERCUTIO
Ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man.
A plague o'both your houses!
Why the devil came you between us?
I was hurt under your arm.
ROMEO
I thought all for the best.
MERCUTIO
A plague o' both your houses!
ROMEO
O, brave Mercutio's dead!
Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
Re-enter TYBALT
Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again,
Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.
TYBALT
Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,
Shalt with him hence.
ROMEO
This shall determine that.
They fight; TYBALT falls
ROMEO
The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.
The prince will doom thee death,
O, I am fortune's fool!
Exit ROMEO