Romeo and Juliet / Ромео и Джульетта. Уильям Шекспир

Rosaline, my ghostly father? No.

      I have forgot that name, and that name’s woe.

Friar Lawrence

      That’s my good son. But where hast thou been then?

Romeo

      I’ll tell thee ere thou ask it me again.

      I have been feasting with mine enemy,

      Where on a sudden one hath wounded me

      That’s by me wounded. Both our remedies

      Within thy help and holy physic lies.

      I bear no hatred, blessed man; for lo,

      My intercession likewise steads my foe.

Friar Lawrence

      Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;

      Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.

Romeo

      Then plainly know my heart’s dear love is set

      On the fair daughter of rich Capulet

      As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine;

      And all combin’d, save what thou must combine

      By holy marriage. When, and where, and how

      We met, we woo’d, and made exchange of vow,

      I’ll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,

      That thou consent to marry us today.

Friar Lawrence

      Holy Saint Francis! What a change is here!

      Is Rosaline, that thou didst love so dear,

      So soon forsaken? Young men’s love then lies

      Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.

      Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine

      Hath wash’d thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!

      How much salt water thrown away in waste,

      To season love, that of it doth not taste.

      The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,

      Thy old groans yet ring in mine ancient ears.

      Lo here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit

      Of an old tear that is not wash’d off yet.

      If ere thou wast thyself, and these woes thine,

      Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline,

      And art thou chang’d? Pronounce this sentence then,

      Women may fall, when there’s no strength in men.

Romeo

      Thou chidd’st me oft for loving Rosaline.

Friar Lawrence

      For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.

Romeo

      And bad’st me bury love.

Friar Lawrence

      Not in a grave

      To lay one in, another out to have.

Romeo

      I pray thee chide me not, her I love now

      Doth grace for grace and love for love allow.

      The other did not so.

Friar Lawrence

      O, she knew well

      Thy love did read by rote, that could not spell.

      But come young waverer, come go with me,

      In one respect I’ll thy assistant be;

      For this alliance may so happy prove,

      To turn your households’ rancour to pure love.

Romeo

      O let us hence; I stand on sudden haste.

Friar Lawrence

      Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.

      [Exeunt.]

      Scene IV

      A Street. Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.

Mercutio

      Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home tonight?

Benvolio

      Not to his father’s; I spoke with his man.

Mercutio

      Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline, torments him so that he will sure run mad.

Benvolio

      Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet, hath sent a letter to his father’s house.

Mercutio

      A challenge, on my life.

Benvolio

      Romeo will answer it.

Mercutio

      Any man that can write may answer a letter.

Benvolio

      Nay, he will answer the letter’s master, how he dares, being dared.

Mercutio

      Alas poor Romeo, he is already dead, stabbed with a white wench’s black eye; run through the ear with a love song, the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy’s butt-shaft. And is he a man to encounter Tybalt?

Benvolio

      Why, what is Tybalt?

Mercutio

      More than Prince of cats. O, he’s the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and proportion. He rests his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the very first house, of the first and second cause. Ah, the immortal passado, the punto reverso, the hay.

Benvolio

      The what?

Mercutio

      The pox of such antic lisping, affecting phantasies; these new tuners of accent. By Jesu, a very good blade, a very tall man, a very good whore. Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardon-me’s, who stand so much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench? O their bones, their bones!

      Enter Romeo.

Benvolio

      Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo!

Mercutio

      Without his roe, like a dried herring. O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in. Laura, to his lady, was but a kitchen wench, – marry, she had a better love to berhyme her: Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gypsy; Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior Romeo, bonjour! There’s a French salutation to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.

Romeo

      Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?

Mercutio

      The slip sir, the slip; can you not conceive?

Romeo

      Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great, and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.

Mercutio

      That’s as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams.

Romeo

      Meaning, to curtsy.

Mercutio

      Thou hast most kindly hit it.

Romeo

      A most courteous exposition.

Mercutio

      Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.

Romeo

      Pink for flower.

Mercutio

      Right.

Romeo

      Why, then is my pump well flowered.

Mercutio

      Sure wit, follow me this jest now, till thou hast worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing, solely singular.

Romeo

      O single-soled jest, solely singular for the singleness!

Mercutio

      Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.

Romeo

      Swits