Ben. There lies that Tybalt.
First Cit. Up, sir, go with me.
I charge thee in the prince's name, obey.
Enter Prince, old Montague, Capulet, their Wives, and all.
Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
Ben. O noble prince! I can discover all 148
The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:
There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
Lady Cap. Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child! 152
O prince! O cousin! husband! O! the blood is spill'd
Of my dear kinsman. Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours shed blood of Montague.
O cousin, cousin! 156
Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay:
Romeo, that spoke him fair, bade him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal 160
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 164
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 168
It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity
Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,
149 manage: conduct
159 spoke him fair: addressed him courteously
160 nice: trivial
163 take truce: make peace
spleen: fiery temper
164 tilts: thrusts
170 Retorts: throws back
