Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; Whose misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife. The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, And the continuance of their parents' rage, Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;The which if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
I beg for justice, which thou prince must give! Romeo slew Tybalt... Romeo must not live!
Romeo slew him... He slew Mercutio. Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
Not Romeo, Prince! He was Mercutio's friend. His fault concludes but what the law should end-the life of Tybalt!
And for that offense, immediately we do exile him hence! Let Romeo hence in haste... Else, when he is found... that hour is his last.