SAMPSON.

’Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought

with the men I will be civil with the maids, I will cut off their heads.


GREGORY.

The heads of the maids?


SAMPSON.

Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense

thou wilt.


GREGORY.

They must take it in sense that feel it.


SAMPSON.

Me they shall feel while I am able to stand:

and ’tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.


GREGORY.

’Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor

John. Draw thy tool; here comes of the house of Montagues.


 Enter Abram and

Balthasar.
SAMPSON.

My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.


GREGORY.

How? Turn thy back and run?


SAMPSON.

Fear me not.


GREGORY.

No, marry; I fear thee!


SAMPSON.

Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.


GREGORY.

I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they

list.
SAMPSON.

Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them, which is

disgrace to them if they bear it.


ABRAM.

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?


SAMPSON.

I do bite my thumb, sir.


ABRAM.

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?


SAMPSON.

Is the law of our side if I say ay?


GREGORY.

No.


SAMPSON.

No sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my

thumb, sir.
GREGORY.

Do you quarrel, sir?


ABRAM.

Quarrel, sir? No, sir.


SAMPSON.

But if you do, sir, I am for you. I serve as good a man as

you.
ABRAM.

No better.


SAMPSON.

Well, sir.


 Enter Benvolio.
GREGORY.

Say better; here comes one of my master’s kinsmen.


SAMPSON.

Yes, better, sir.


ABRAM.

You lie.


SAMPSON.

Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy washing blow.


 [They fight.]
BENVOLIO.

Part, fools! put up your swords, you know not what you do.


 [Beats down their swords.]
 Enter Tybalt.
TYBALT.

What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?