ROMEO AND JULIET 4 страница

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quarrels as an egg is full of meat; and yet thy head hath been

beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrelled

with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened

thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall

out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with

another for tying his new shoes with an old riband? and yet thou

wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

Benvolio.

An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy

the fee simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

Mercutio.

The fee simple! O simple!

Benvolio.

By my head, here come the Capulets.

Mercutio.

By my heel, I care not.

[Enter Tybalt and others. ]

Tybalt.

Follow me close, for I will speak to them. --Gentlemen, good-den:

a word with one of you.

Mercutio.

And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make

it a word and a blow.

Tybalt.

You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give

me occasion.

Mercutio.

Could you not take some occasion without giving?

Tybalt.

Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo, --

Mercutio.

Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou make

minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords: here's my

fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. Zounds, consort!

Benvolio.

We talk here in the public haunt of men:

Either withdraw unto some private place,

And reason coldly of your grievances,

Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.

Mercutio.

Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;

I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Tybalt.

Well, peace be with you, sir. --Here comes my man.

[Enter Romeo. ]

Mercutio.

But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery:

Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower;

Your worship in that sense may call him man.

Tybalt.

Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford

No better term than this, --Thou art a villain.

Romeo.

Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee

Doth much excuse the appertaining rage

To such a greeting. Villain am I none;

Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not.

Tybalt.

Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries

That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.

Romeo.

I do protest I never injur'd thee;

But love thee better than thou canst devise

Till thou shalt know the reason of my love:

And so good Capulet, --which name I tender

As dearly as mine own, --be satisfied.

Mercutio.

O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!

Alla stoccata carries it away. [Draws. ]

Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?

Tybalt.

What wouldst thou have with me?

Mercutio.

Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives; that I

mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter,

dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of

his pitcher by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears

ere it be out.

Tybalt.

I am for you. [Drawing. ]

Romeo.

Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

Mercutio.

Come, sir, your passado.

[They fight. ]

Romeo.

Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons. --

Gentlemen, for shame! forbear this outrage! --

Tybalt, --Mercutio, --the prince expressly hath

Forbid this bandying in Verona streets. --

Hold, Tybalt! --good Mercutio! --

[Exeunt Tybalt with his Partizans. ]

Mercutio.

I am hurt; --

A plague o' both your houses! --I am sped. --

Is he gone, and hath nothing?

Benvolio.

What, art thou hurt?

Mercutio.

Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough. --

Where is my page? --go, villain, fetch a surgeon.

[Exit Page. ]

Romeo.

Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.

Mercutio.

No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door;

but 'tis enough, 'twill serve: ask for me to-morrow, and you

shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this

world. --A plague o' both your houses! --Zounds, a dog, a rat, a

mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a

villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic! --Why the devil

came you between us? I was hurt under your arm.

Romeo.

I thought all for the best.

Mercutio.

Help me into some house, Benvolio,

Or I shall faint. --A plague o' both your houses!

They have made worms' meat of me:

I have it, and soundly too. --Your houses!

[Exit Mercutio and Benvolio. ]

Romeo.

This gentleman, the prince's near ally,

My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt

In my behalf; my reputation stain'd

With Tybalt's slander, --Tybalt, that an hour

Hath been my kinsman. --O sweet Juliet,

Thy beauty hath made me effeminate

And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.

[Re-enter Benvolio. ]

Benvolio.

O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!

That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,

Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

Romeo.

This day's black fate on more days doth depend;

This but begins the woe others must end.

Benvolio.

Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.

Romeo.

Alive in triumph! and Mercutio slain!

Away to heaven respective lenity,

And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now! --

[Re-enter Tybalt. ]

Now, Tybalt, take the 'villain' back again

That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul

Is but a little way above our heads,

Staying for thine to keep him company.

Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.

Tybalt.

Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,

Shalt with him hence.

Romeo.

This shall determine that.

[They fight; Tybalt falls. ]

Benvolio.

Romeo, away, be gone!

The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. --

Stand not amaz'd. The prince will doom thee death

If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away!

Romeo.

O, I am fortune's fool!

Benvolio.

Why dost thou stay?

[Exit Romeo. ]

[Enter Citizens, & c. ]

1 Citizen.

Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?

Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?

Benvolio.

There lies that Tybalt.

1 Citizen.

Up, sir, go with me;

I charge thee in the prince's name obey.

[Enter Prince, attended; Montague, Capulet, their Wives,

and others. ]

Prince.

Where are the vile beginners of this fray?

Benvolio.

O noble prince. I can discover all

The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:

There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,

That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.

Lady Capulet.

Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child! --

O prince! --O 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!

Prince.

Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?

Benvolio.

Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay;

Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink

How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal

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

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

It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity

Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,

'Hold, friends! friends, part! ' and swifter than his tongue,

His agile arm beats down their fatal points,

And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm

An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life

Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled:

But by-and-by comes back to Romeo,

Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,

And to't they go like lightning; for, ere I

Could draw to part them was stout Tybalt slain;

And as he fell did Romeo turn and fly.

This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

Lady Capulet.

He is a kinsman to the Montague,

Affection makes him false, he speaks not true:

Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,

And all those twenty could but kill one life.

I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give;

Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.

Prince.

Romeo slew him; he slew Mercutio:

Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?

Montague.

Not Romeo, prince; he was Mercutio's friend;

His fault concludes but what the law should end,

The life of Tybalt.

Prince.

And for that offence

Immediately we do exile him hence:

I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,

My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding;

But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine

That you shall all repent the loss of mine:

I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;

Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses,

Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste,

Else, when he is found, that hour is his last.

Bear hence this body, and attend our will:

Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.

[Exeunt. ]

Scene II. A Room in Capulet's House.

[Enter Juliet. ]

Juliet.

Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,

Towards Phoebus' lodging; such a waggoner

As Phaeton would whip you to the west

And bring in cloudy night immediately. --

Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night!

That rude eyes may wink, and Romeo

Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen. --

Lovers can see to do their amorous rites

By their own beauties: or, if love be blind,

It best agrees with night. --Come, civil night,

Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,

And learn me how to lose a winning match,

Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:

Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,

With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold,

Think true love acted simple modesty.

Come, night; --come, Romeo; --come, thou day in night;

For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night

Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back. --

Come, gentle night; --come, loving, black-brow'd night,

Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with night,

And pay no worship to the garish sun. --

O, I have bought the mansion of a love,

But not possess'd it; and, though I am sold,

Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day

As is the night before some festival

To an impatient child that hath new robes,

And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,

And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks

But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence. --

[Enter Nurse, with cords. ]

Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords

That Romeo bid thee fetch?

Nurse.

Ay, ay, the cords.

[Throws them down. ]

Juliet.

Ah me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands?

Nurse.

Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!

We are undone, lady, we are undone! --

Alack the day! --he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!

Juliet.

Can heaven be so envious?

Nurse.

Romeo can,

Though heaven cannot. --O Romeo, Romeo! --

Who ever would have thought it? --Romeo!

Juliet.

What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus?

This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.

Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but I,

And that bare vowel I shall poison more

Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice:

I am not I if there be such an I;

Or those eyes shut that make thee answer I.

If he be slain, say I; or if not, no:

Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.

Nurse.

I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes, --

God save the mark! --here on his manly breast.

A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;

Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,

All in gore-blood; --I swounded at the sight.

Juliet.

O, break, my heart! --poor bankrout, break at once!

To prison, eyes; ne'er look on liberty!

Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here;

And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!

Nurse.

O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!

O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!

That ever I should live to see thee dead!

Juliet.

What storm is this that blows so contrary?

Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead?

My dear-lov'd cousin, and my dearer lord? --

Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!

For who is living, if those two are gone?

Nurse.

Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;

Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.

Juliet.

O God! --did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?

Nurse.

It did, it did; alas the day, it did!

Juliet.

O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!

Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?

Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!

Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!

Despised substance of divinest show!

Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,

A damned saint, an honourable villain! --

O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell

When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend

In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh? --

Was ever book containing such vile matter

So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell

In such a gorgeous palace!

Nurse.

There's no trust,

No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur'd,

All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. --

Ah, where's my man? Give me some aqua vitae. --

These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.

Shame come to Romeo!

Juliet.

Blister'd be thy tongue

For such a wish! he was not born to shame:

Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit;

For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd

Sole monarch of the universal earth.

O, what a beast was I to chide at him!

Nurse.

Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin?

Juliet.

Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?

Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,

When I, thy three-hours' wife, have mangled it? --

But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?

That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband:

Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;

Your tributary drops belong to woe,

Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.

My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain;

And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband:

All this is comfort; wherefore weep I, then?

Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,

That murder'd me: I would forget it fain;

But O, it presses to my memory

Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds:

'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished. '

That 'banished, ' that one word 'banished, '

Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death

Was woe enough, if it had ended there:

Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship,

And needly will be rank'd with other griefs, --

Why follow'd not, when she said Tybalt's dead,

Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,

Which modern lamentation might have mov'd?

But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death,

'Romeo is banished'--to speak that word

Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,

All slain, all dead: 'Romeo is banished, '--

There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,

In that word's death; no words can that woe sound. --

Where is my father and my mother, nurse?

Nurse.

Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse:

Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.

Juliet.

Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent,

When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.

Take up those cords. Poor ropes, you are beguil'd,

Both you and I; for Romeo is exil'd:

He made you for a highway to my bed;

But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.

Come, cords; come, nurse; I'll to my wedding-bed;

And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!

Nurse.

Hie to your chamber. I'll find Romeo

To comfort you: I wot well where he is.

Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night:

I'll to him; he is hid at Lawrence' cell.

Juliet.

O, find him! give this ring to my true knight,

And bid him come to take his last farewell.

[Exeunt. ]

Scene III. Friar Lawrence's cell.

[Enter Friar Lawrence. ]

Friar.

Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man.

Affliction is enanmour'd of thy parts,

And thou art wedded to calamity.

[Enter Romeo. ]

Romeo.

Father, what news? what is the prince's doom

What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,

That I yet know not?

Friar.

Too familiar

Is my dear son with such sour company:

I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.

Romeo.

What less than doomsday is the prince's doom?

Friar.

A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, --

Not body's death, but body's banishment.

Romeo.

Ha, banishment? be merciful, say death;

For exile hath more terror in his look,

Much more than death; do not say banishment.

Friar.

Hence from Verona art thou banished:

Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.

Romeo.

There is no world without Verona walls,

But purgatory, torture, hell itself.

Hence-banished is banish'd from the world,

And world's exile is death, --then banished

Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment,

Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe,

And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me.

Friar.

O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!

Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,

Taking thy part, hath brush'd aside the law,

And turn'd that black word death to banishment:

This is dear mercy, and thou see'st it not.

Romeo.

'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,

Where Juliet lives; and every cat, and dog,

And little mouse, every unworthy thing,

Live here in heaven, and may look on her;

But Romeo may not. --More validity,

More honourable state, more courtship lives

In carrion flies than Romeo: they may seize

On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand,

And steal immortal blessing from her lips;

Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,

Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;

But Romeo may not; he is banished, --

This may flies do, when I from this must fly.

And sayest thou yet that exile is not death!

Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife,

No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,

But banished to kill me; banished?

O friar, the damned use that word in hell;

Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart,

Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,

A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,

To mangle me with that word banishment?

Friar.

Thou fond mad man, hear me speak a little, --

Romeo.

O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.

Friar.

I'll give thee armour to keep off that word;

Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,

To comfort thee, though thou art banished.

Romeo.

Yet banished? Hang up philosophy!

Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,

Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,

It helps not, it prevails not, --talk no more.

Friar.

O, then I see that madmen have no ears.

Romeo.

How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?

Friar.

Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.

Romeo.

Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel:

Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,

An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,

Doting like me, and like me banished,

Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,

And fall upon the ground, as I do now,

Taking the measure of an unmade grave.

[Knocking within. ]

Friar.

Arise; one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself.

Romeo.

Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,

Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes.

[Knocking. ]

Friar.

Hark, how they knock! --Who's there? --Romeo, arise;

Thou wilt be taken. --Stay awhile; --Stand up;

[Knocking. ]

Run to my study. --By-and-by! --God's will!

What simpleness is this. --I come, I come!

[Knocking. ]

Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will?

Nurse.

[Within. ] Let me come in, and you shall know my errand;

I come from Lady Juliet.

Friar.

Welcome then.

[Enter Nurse. ]

Nurse.

O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,

Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo?

Friar.

There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.

Nurse.

O, he is even in my mistress' case, --

Just in her case!

Friar.

O woeful sympathy!

Piteous predicament!

Nurse.

Even so lies she,

Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. --

Stand up, stand up; stand, an you be a man:

For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand;

Why should you fall into so deep an O?

Romeo.

Nurse!

Nurse.

Ah sir! ah sir! --Well, death's the end of all.

Romeo.

Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her?

Doth not she think me an old murderer,

Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy

With blood remov'd but little from her own?

Where is she? and how doth she/ and what says

My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love?

Nurse.

O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;

And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,

And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,

And then down falls again.

Romeo.

As if that name,

Shot from the deadly level of a gun,

Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand

Murder'd her kinsman. --O, tell me, friar, tell me,

In what vile part of this anatomy

Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack

The hateful mansion.

[Drawing his sword. ]

Friar.

Hold thy desperate hand:

Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art;

Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote

The unreasonable fury of a beast;

Unseemly woman in a seeming man!

Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!

Thou hast amaz'd me: by my holy order,

I thought thy disposition better temper'd.

Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?

And slay thy lady, too, that lives in thee,

By doing damned hate upon thyself?

Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?

Since birth and heaven and earth, all three do meet

In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose.

Fie, fie, thou sham'st thy shape, thy love, thy wit;

Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all,

And usest none in that true use indeed

Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit:

Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,

Digressing from the valour of a man;

Thy dear love sworn, but hollow perjury,

Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish;

Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,

Mis-shapen in the conduct of them both,

Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask,

Is set a-fire by thine own ignorance,

And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.

What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,

For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;

There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee,

But thou slewest Tybalt; there art thou happy too:

The law, that threaten'd death, becomes thy friend,

And turns it to exile; there art thou happy:

A pack of blessings lights upon thy back;

Happiness courts thee in her best array;

But, like a misbehav'd and sullen wench,

Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love: --

Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.

Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,

Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her:

But, look, thou stay not till the watch be set,

For then thou canst not pass to Mantua;

Where thou shalt live till we can find a time

To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,

Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back

With twenty hundred thousand times more joy

Than thou went'st forth in lamentation. --

Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady;

And bid her hasten all the house to bed,

Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto.

Romeo is coming.

Nurse.

O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night

To hear good counsel: O, what learning is! --

My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.

Romeo.

Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.

Nurse.

Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir:

Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.

[Exit. ]

Romeo.

How well my comfort is reviv'd by this!

Friar.

Go hence; good night! and here stands all your state:

Either be gone before the watch be set,

Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence.

Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,

And he shall signify from time to time

Every good hap to you that chances here:

Give me thy hand; 'tis late; farewell; good night.

Romeo.

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