Romeo and Juliet

Romeo.
This gentleman, the prince's near ally,
My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
In my behalf; my reputation stain'd
With Tybalt's slander,--Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my kinsman.--O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate
And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.

[Re-enter Benvolio.]

Benvolio.
O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!
That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

Romeo.
This day's black fate on more days doth depend;
This but begins the woe others must end.

Benvolio.
Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.

Romeo.
Alive in triumph! and Mercutio slain!
Away to heaven respective lenity,
And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now!--

[Re-enter Tybalt.]

Now, Tybalt, take the 'villain' back again
That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company.
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.]

Benvolio.
Romeo, away, be gone!
The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.--
Stand not amaz'd.  The prince will doom thee death
If thou art taken.  Hence, be gone, away!

Romeo.
O, I am fortune's fool!

Benvolio.
Why dost thou stay?

[Exit Romeo.]

[Enter Citizens, &c.]

1 Citizen.
Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?
Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?

Benvolio.
There lies that Tybalt.

1 Citizen.
Up, sir, go with me;
I charge thee in the prince's name obey.

[Enter Prince, attended; Montague, Capulet, their Wives,
and others.]

Prince.
Where are the vile beginners of this fray?

Benvolio.
O noble prince. I can discover all
The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:
There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.

Lady Capulet.
Tybalt, my cousin!  O my brother's child!--
O prince!--O husband!--O, the blood is spill'd
Of my dear kinsman!--Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours shed blood of Montague.--
O cousin, cousin!

Prince.
Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?

Benvolio.
Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay;
Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal
Your high displeasure.--All this,--uttered