_Rom_: This Gentleman the Princes neere Alie. My very frend hath tane this mortall wound In my behalfe, my reputation staind 80 With _Tibalts_ slaunder, _Tybalt_ that an houre Hath beene my kinsman. Ah _Iuliet_ Thy beautie makes me thus effeminate, And in my temper softens valors steele. _Enter Benuolio._ _Ben_: Ah _Romeo Romeo_ braue _Mercutio_ is dead, 85 That gallant spirit hath a spir'd the cloudes, Which too vntimely scornd the lowly earth. _Rom_: This daies black fate, on more daies doth depend This but begins what other dayes must end. _Enter Tibalt._ _Ben_: Heere comes the furious _Tibalt_ backe againe. 90 _Rom_: A liue in tryumph and _Mercutio_ slaine? Away to heauen respectiue lenity: And fier eyed fury be my conduct now. Now _Tibalt_ take the villaine backe againe, Which late thou gau'st me: for _Mercutios_ soule, 95 Is but a little way aboue the cloudes, And staies for thine to beare him company. Or thou, or I, or both shall follow him. _Fight, Tibalt falles._ _Ben: Romeo_ away, thou seest that _Tibalt's_ slaine, The Citizens approach, away, begone Thou wilt be taken. _Rom_: Ah I am fortunes slaue. _Exeunt._ _Enter Citizens._ _Watch_: Wher's he that slue _Mercutio, Tybalt_ that villaine? _Ben_: There is that _Tybalt_. 105 Vp sirra goe with vs[1594]. _Enter Prince, Capolets wife._ _Pry_: Where be the vile beginners of this fray? _Ben_: Ah Noble Prince I can discouer all The most vnlucky mannage of this brawle. Heere lyes the man slaine by yong R_omeo_, 110 That slew thy kinsman braue _Mercutio_. _M: Tibalt, Tybalt_, O my brothers child, Vnhappie sight? Ah the blood is spilt Of my deare kinsman, Prince as thou art true: For blood of ours, shed bloud of _Mountagew_. 115 _Pry_: Speake _Benuolio_ who began this fray?