Romeo and Juliet / Ромео и Джульетта. Уильям Шекспир

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 farther pleasure in this case,

      To old Free-town, our common judgement-place.

      Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.

      [Exeunt Prince and Attendants; Capulet, Lady Capulet, Tybalt, Citizens and Servants.]

Montague

      Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?

      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 prepar’d,

      Which, as he breath’d defiance to my ears,

      He swung about his head, and cut the winds,

      Who nothing hurt withal, hiss’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 this city 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,

      Which then most sought where most might not be found,

      Being one too many by my weary self,

      Pursu’d my humour, not pursuing his,

      And gladly shunn’d who gladly fled from me.

Montague

      Many a morning hath he there been seen,

      With tears augmenting the fresh morning’s dew,

      Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;

      But all so soon as the all-cheering sun

      Should in the farthest east begin to draw

      The shady curtains from Aurora’s bed,

      Away from light steals home my heavy son,

      And private in his chamber pens himself,

      Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out

      And makes himself an artificial night.

      Black and portentous must this humour prove,

      Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

Benvolio

      My noble uncle, do you know the cause?

Montague

      I neither know it nor can learn of him.

Benvolio

      Have you importun’d 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 bud bit 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.

      Enter Romeo.

Benvolio

      See, where he comes. So please you step aside;

      I’ll know his grievance or be much denied.

Montague

      I would thou wert so happy by thy stay

      To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let’s away,

      [Exeunt Montague and Lady Montague.]

Benvolio

      Good morrow, cousin.

Romeo

      Is the day so young?

Benvolio

      But new struck nine.

Romeo

      Ay me, sad hours seem long.

      Was that my father that went hence so fast?

Benvolio

      It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours?

Romeo

      Not having that which, having, makes them short.

Benvolio

      In love?

Romeo

      Out.

Benvolio

      Of love?

Romeo

      Out of her favour where I am in love.

Benvolio

      Alas that love so gentle in his view,

      Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof.

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 heard it all.

      Here’s much to do with hate, but more with love:

      Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!

      O anything, of nothing first create!

      O heavy lightness! serious vanity!

      Misshapen chaos 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?

Benvolio

      No coz, I rather weep.

Romeo

      Good heart, at what?

Benvolio

      At thy good heart’s oppression.

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 made with the fume of sighs;

      Being purg’d, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes;

      Being vex’d, a sea nourish’d with lovers’ tears:

      What is it else? A madness most discreet,

      A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.

      Farewell, my coz.

      [Going.]

Benvolio

      Soft! I will go along:

      And if you leave me so, you do me wrong.

Romeo

      Tut!