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! O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead! That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. This day's black fate on more days doth depend; This but begins the woe, others must end. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. Alive, in triumph! and Mercutio slain! Away to heaven, respective lenity, And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now! 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. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here, Shalt with him hence. This shall determine that. Romeo, away, be gone! The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death, If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away! O, I am fortune's fool! Why dost thou stay? Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? There lies that Tybalt. Up, sir, go with me; I charge thee in the princes name, obey. Where are the vile beginners of this fray? 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. Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child! O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt O my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true, For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. O cousin, cousin! Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay; Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal Your high displeasure: all this uttered With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd, Could not take truce with the unruly spleen Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast, Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point, And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats Cold death aside, and with the other sends It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity, Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud, 'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and, swifter