rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, profanners of this neighbor-stained steel- Will they not hear? What, ho! you men , you beasts, The quench the fire of your pernicious rage with purple fountains issuing from your veins! On pain of torture, from those bloody hands throw your mistemp 'red weapons to the ground and hear the sentance of your moved prince. Three brawls, bred of an airy word by thee, old Capulet and Montague, have thrice disturbed the quiet of our streets and made Verona's ancient citizens cast by their grave beseeming ornaments to weild old partisans, in hands as old, cank'red wuth peace, to part your cank'red hate. if you ever disturb our streets again, your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace, For this time all the rest depart away. You, capulet, shall go along with me; and Montague, come you this afternoon, to know our farther pleasure in this case, to old Freetown, our common judgement place. Once more, on the pain of death, all men depat.
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