Romeo and Juliet / Ромео и Джульетта. Уильям Шекспир

rhyme I learn’d even now

      Of one I danc’d withal.

      [One calls within, ‘Juliet’.]

Nurse

      Anon, anon!

      Come let’s away, the strangers all are gone.

      [Exeunt.]

      Act II

      Enter Chorus.

Chorus

      Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,

      And young affection gapes to be his heir;

      That fair for which love groan’d for and would die,

      With tender Juliet match’d, is now not fair.

      Now Romeo is belov’d, and loves again,

      Alike bewitched by the charm of looks;

      But to his foe suppos’d he must complain,

      And she steal love’s sweet bait from fearful hooks:

      Being held a foe, he may not have access

      To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear;

      And she as much in love, her means much less

      To meet her new beloved anywhere.

      But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,

      Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.

      [Exit.]

      Scene I

      An open place adjoining Capulet’s Garden. Enter Romeo.

Romeo

      Can I go forward when my heart is here?

      Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.

      [He climbs the wall and leaps down within it.]

      Enter Benvolio and Mercutio

Benvolio

      Romeo! My cousin Romeo! Romeo!

Mercutio

      He is wise,

      And on my life hath stol’n him home to bed.

Benvolio

      He ran this way, and leap’d this orchard wall:

      Call, good Mercutio.

Mercutio

      Nay, I’ll conjure too.

      Romeo! Humours! Madman! Passion! Lover!

      Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh,

      Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;

      Cry but ‘Ah me!’ Pronounce but Love and dove;

      Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,

      One nickname for her purblind son and heir,

      Young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so trim

      When King Cophetua lov’d the beggar-maid.

      He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;

      The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.

      I conjure thee by Rosaline’s bright eyes,

      By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,

      By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh,

      And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,

      That in thy likeness thou appear to us.

Benvolio

      An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.

Mercutio

      This cannot anger him. ’Twould anger him

      To raise a spirit in his mistress’ circle,

      Of some strange nature, letting it there stand

      Till she had laid it, and conjur’d it down;

      That were some spite. My invocation

      Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress’ name,

      I conjure only but to raise up him.

Benvolio

      Come, he hath hid himself among these trees

      To be consorted with the humorous night.

      Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.

Mercutio

      If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.

      Now will he sit under a medlar tree,

      And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit

      As maids call medlars when they laugh alone.

      O Romeo, that she were, O that she were

      An open-arse and thou a poperin pear!

      Romeo, good night. I’ll to my truckle-bed.

      This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.

      Come, shall we go?

Benvolio

      Go then; for ’tis in vain

      To seek him here that means not to be found.

      [Exeunt.]

      Scene II

      Capulet’s Garden. Enter Romeo.

Romeo

      He jests at scars that never felt a wound.

      Juliet appears above at a window.

      But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?

      It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!

      Arise fair sun and kill the envious moon,

      Who is already sick and pale with grief,

      That thou her maid art far more fair than she.

      Be not her maid since she is envious;

      Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

      And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.

      It is my lady, O it is my love!

      O, that she knew she were!

      She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?

      Her eye discourses, I will answer it.

      I am too bold, ’tis not to me she speaks.

      Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

      Having some business, do entreat her eyes

      To twinkle in their spheres till they return.

      What if her eyes were there, they in her head?

      The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,

      As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven

      Would through the airy region stream so bright

      That birds would sing and think it were not night.

      See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.

      O that I were a glove upon that hand,

      That I might touch that cheek.

Juliet

      Ay me.

Romeo

      She speaks.

      O speak again bright angel, for thou art

      As glorious to this night, being o’er my head,

      As is a winged messenger of heaven

      Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes

      Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him

      When he bestrides the lazy-puffing clouds

      And sails upon the bosom of the air.

Juliet

      O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

      Deny thy father and refuse thy name.

      Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

      And