Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Prince. And Mountague come you this afternoone,
Prince. To know our Fathers pleasure in this case:
Prince. To old Free‑towne, our common iudgement place:
Prince. Once more on paine of death, all men depart.
Prince. Exeunt.
Moun. Moun.
Moun. Who set this auncient quarrell new abroach?
Moun. Speake Nephew, were you by, when it began:
Ben. Ben.
Ben. Heere were the seruants of your aduersarie,
Ben. And yours close fighting ere I did approach,
Ben. I drew to part them, in the instant came
Ben. The fiery Tibalt, with his sword prepar'd,
Ben. Which as he breath'd defiance to my eares,
Ben. He swong about his head, and cut the windes,
Ben. Who nothing hurt withall, hist him in scorne.
Ben. While we were enterchanging thrusts and blowes,
Ben. Came more and more, and fought on part and part,
Ben. Till the Prince came, who parted either part.
Wife. Wife.