Rom. I thought all for the best

Mer. Helpe me into some house Benuolio,

Or I shall faint: a plague a both your houses.

They haue made wormesmeat of me,

I haue it, and soundly to your Houses.

Enter.

Rom. This Gentleman the Princes neere Alie,

My very Friend hath got his mortall hurt

In my behalfe, my reputation stain'd

With Tibalts slaunder, Tybalt that an houre

Hath beene my Cozin: O Sweet Iuliet,

Thy Beauty hath made me Effeminate,

And in my temper softned Valours steele.

Enter Benuolio.

Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, braue Mercutio's is dead,

That Gallant spirit hath aspir'd the Cloudes,

Which too vntimely here did scorne the earth

Rom. This daies blacke Fate, on mo daies depend,

This but begins, the wo others must end.

Enter Tybalt.

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