英语小说网

SAMPSON: "A dog of the house of Montague moves me."

SAMPSON: "True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall."

GREGORY: "No, for then we should be colliers."

GREGORY: "The quarrel is between our masters and us their men."

SAMPSON: "I strike quickly, being moved."

SAMPSON: "Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals."

GREGORY: "To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away."

[Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers]

GREGORY: "But thou art not quickly moved to strike."

SAMPSON: "A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's."

GREGORY: "That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall."

SAMPSON: "'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids, and cut off their heads."

SAMPSON: "I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw."

GREGORY: "Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar."

SAMPSON: "Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it."

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 two of the house of the Montagues."

SAMPSON [aside to GREGORY]: "Is the law of our side, if I say ay?"

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

GREGORY: "How! turn thy back and run?"

SAMPSON: "Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt."

SAMPSON: "Fear me not."

SAMPSON: "I do bite my thumb, sir."

GREGORY: "No, marry; I fear thee!"

[Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR]

ABRAHAM: "Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?"

ABRAHAM: "Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?"

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."

GREGORY: "The heads of the maids?"

ABRAHAM: "Quarrel sir! no, sir."

SAMPSON: "If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man you."

SAMPSON: "Yes, better, sir."

[Enter BENVOLIO]

TYBALT: "What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the Word, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: Have at thee, coward!"

ABRAHAM: "You lie."

GREGORY [aside to Sampson]: "'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen."

TYBALT: "What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death."

BENVOLIO: "I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword, Or manage it to part these men with me."

SAMPSON: "No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I bite my thumb, sir."

GREGORY [aside to SAMPSON] : "No."

GREGORY: "Do you quarrel, sir?"

BENVOLIO: "Part, fools! Put up your swords; you know not what you do."

[They fight]

SAMPSON: "Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow."

[Beats down their swords]

SAMPSON: "Well, sir."

[They fight]

[Enter TYBALT]

ABRAHAM: "No better."

[Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs]

CAPULET: "What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!"

First Citizen: "Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!"

[Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET]

CAPULET: "My sword, I say! Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me."

[Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE]

LADY CAPULET: "A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword?"

[Enter PRINCE, with Attendants]

MONTAGUE: "Thou villain Capulet, -- Hold me not, let me go."

LADY MONTAGUE: "Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe."

PRINCE: "Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour -- stained steel, -- Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts, That quench the fire of your pemiciousrage With purple fountains issuing from your veins, On pain of torture, from those bloody hands Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground, And hear the sentence of your moved prince. Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets, And made Verona's ancient citizens Castby their grave beseeming ornaments, To wield old partisans, in hands as old, Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate: If ever you 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 further pleasure in this case, To old Free town, our common judgment-place. Once more, on pain of death, all men depart."

[Exeuntall but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO]

MONTAGUE: "Who set this ancient quarrel new a broach? Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?"

BENVOLIO: "Here were the servants of your adversary, And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: I drew to part them: in the instant came The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared, Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears, He swung about his head and cut the winds, Who nothing hurt with alhiss'd him in scorn: While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, Came more and more and fought on part and part, Till the prince came, who parted either part."

LADY MONTAGUE: "O, where is Romeo? saw you him today? Right glad I am he was not at this fray."

BENVOLIO: "Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Where, underneath the grove of sycamore That westward rooteth from the city's side, So early walking did I see your son: Towards him I made, but he was ware of me And stole into the covert of the wood: I, measuring his affections by my own, That most are busied when they're most alone, Pursued my humour not pursuing his, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me."

BENVOLIO: "My noble uncle, do you know the cause?"

MONTAGUE: "I neither know it nor can learn of him."

BENVOLIO: "Have you importuned him by any means?"

MONTAGUE: "Both by myself and many other friends: But he, his own affections' counsellor, Is to himself -- I will not say how true -- But to himself so secret and so close, So far from sounding and discovery, As is the budbit with an envious worm, Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow. We would as willingly give cure as know."

MONTAGUE: "Many a morning hath he there been seen, With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew. Adding to clouds with his deep sighs; But all so soon as the all-cheering sun Should in the furthest east begin to draw The shady curtains from Auroa's bed, Away from the light steals home my heavy son, And private in his chamber pens himself, Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out And makes himself an artificial night: Black and portentous must this humour prove, Unless good counsel may the cause remove."

BENVOLIO: "In love?"

BENVOLIO: "See, where he comes: so please you, step aside; I'll know his grievance, or be much denied."

ROMEO: "Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here? Yet tell me not, for I have beard it all. Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mis-shapenchaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this. Dost thou not laugh?"

ROMEO: "Not having that, which, having, makes them short."

ROMEO: "Is the day so young?"

ROMEO: "Out of her favour, where I am in love."

ROMEO: "Ay me! sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast?"

BENVOLIO: "Of love?"

[Enter ROMEO]

BENVOLIO: "Good-morrow, cousin."

BENVOLIO: "Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!"

BENVOLIO: "But new struck nine."

ROMEO: "Out --"

[Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE]

BENVOLIO: "It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?"

MONTAGUE: "I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away."

ROMEO: "Good heart, at what?"

BENVOLIO: "At thy good heart's oppression."

BENVOLIO: "Soft! I will go along; An if you leave me so, you do me wrong."

ROMEO: "Why, such is love's transgression. Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vex'da: sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: What is it else? a madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet. Farewell, my coz."

BENVOLIO: "No, coz, I rather weep."

ROMEO: "What, shall I groan and tell thee?"

ROMEO: "Bida sick man in sadness make his will: Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill! In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman."

BENVOLIO: "Groan! why, no. But sadly tell me who."

ROMEO: "Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; This is not Romeo, he's some other where."

BENVOLIO: "Tell me in sadness, who is that you love."

ROMEO: "A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love."

ROMEO: "Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit; And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bows he lives unharm'd. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Nor opener lap to saint-seducing gold: O, she is rich in beauty, only poor, That when she dies with beauty dies her store."

BENVOLIO: "I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved."

BENVOLIO: "A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit."

BENVOLIO: "Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?"

BENVOLIO: "Be ruled by me, forget to think of her."

ROMEO: "O, teach me how I should forget to think."

ROMEO: "She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste, For beauty starved with her severity Cuts beauty off from all posterity. She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, To meritbliss by making me despair: She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow Do I live dead that live to tell it now."

BENVOLIO: "I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt."

BENVOLIO: "By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other beauties."

[Exeunt]

ROMEO: "'Tis the way To call hers exquisite, in question more: These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows Being black put us in mind they hide the fair; He that is strucken blind cannot forget The precious treasure of his eyesight lost: Show me a mistress that is passing fair, What doth her beauty serve, but as a note Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair? Farewell, thou canst not teach me to forget."