« السابقةمتابعة »
Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.
Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR.
Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I bite my thumb, sir.
Gre. Do you quarrel, sir?
Abr. Quarrel, sir! no, sir.
Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man
Sam. Well, sir.
Gre. Say "better:" here comes one of my master's kins
Sam. Yes, better, sir.
Abr. You lic.
Sam. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. [They fight. 70
Ben. Part, fools!
Put up your swords; you know not what you do.
[Beats down their swords.
Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
Ben. I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: Have at thee, coward!
Enter several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs.
First Cit. Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! 80
Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!
Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET. Cap. What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho! La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword?
Cap. My sword, I say! Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE. Mon. Thou villain Capulet,-Hold me not, let me go. La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.
Enter PRINCE, with Attendants.
Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts, 90 That quench the fire of your pernicious rage 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 Cast by 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 judgement-place. Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
[Exeunt all but Montague, Lady Montague, and Benvolio. Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary,
La. Mon. O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day?
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun.
Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen,
Ben. My noble uncle, do know the cause?
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,
Ben. Good morrow, cousin.
Ben. See, where he comes: so please you, step aside; I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.
Mon. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away. [Exeunt Montague and Lady.
Is the day so young?
Ay me! sad hours seem long.
Ben. It was.
Was that my father that went hence so fast?
Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
Rom. 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 heard it all.
Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.
At thy good heart's oppression. 190
Ben. Tell me in sadness, who is that you love.
But sadly tell me who.
Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will: Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!
Groan? why, no;
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
Ben. I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved. Rom. A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love. Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. Rom. 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 bow she lives unharm'd. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: O, she is rich in beauty, only poor,
That when she dies with beauty dies her store.
Ben. Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
Ben. Be ruled by me, forget to think of her.
Rom. 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 merit bliss by making me despair: She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow Do I live dead that live to tell it now.
SCENE II. A street.
Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant.
Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both;
"Tis the way
Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. [Exeunt.