ROMEO & JULIET. Уильям Шекспир

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

       From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

       A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;

       Whose misadventur’d piteous overthrows

       Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife.

       The fearful passage of their death-mark’d love,

       And the continuance of their parents’ rage,

       Which but their children’s end naught could remove,

       Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage;

       The which, if you with patient ears attend,

       What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

ACT I.

       Table of Contents

      SCENE I. A public place.

       [Enter Sampson and Gregory armed with swords and bucklers.]

       Sampson.

       Gregory, o’ my word, we’ll not carry coals.

       Gregory.

       No, for then we should be colliers.

       Sampson.

       I mean, an we be in choler we’ll draw.

       Gregory.

       Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o’ the collar.

       Sampson.

       I strike quickly, being moved.

       Gregory.

       But thou art not quickly moved to strike.

       Sampson.

       A dog of the house of Montague moves me.

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

       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. 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.

       The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.

       Sampson.

       ‘Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant:

       when I have fought with the men I will be cruel with the maids,

       I will cut off their heads.

       Gregory.

       The heads of the maids?

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

       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 Montagues.

       Sampson.

       My naked weapon is out: quarrel! I will back thee.

       Gregory.

       How! turn thy back and run?

       Sampson.

       Fear me not.

       Gregory.

       No, marry; I fear thee!

       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.

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

       [Enter Abraham and Balthasar.]

       Abraham.

       Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

       Sampson.

       I do bite my thumb, sir.

       Abraham.

       Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

       Sampson.

       Is the law of our side if I say ay?

       Gregory.

       No.

       Sampson. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir.

       Gregory.

       Do you quarrel, sir?

       Abraham.

       Quarrel, sir! no, sir.

       Sampson. But if you do, sir, am for you: I serve as good a man as you.

       Abraham.

       No better.

       Sampson.

       Well, sir.

       Gregory.

       Say better; here comes one of my master’s kinsmen.

       Sampson.

       Yes, better, sir.

       Abraham.

       You lie.

       Sampson.

       Draw, if you be men.—Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.

       [They fight.]

       [Enter Benvolio.]

       Benvolio.

       Part, fools! put up your swords; you know not what you do.

       [Beats down their swords.]

       [Enter Tybalt.]

       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.

       Tybalt.

       What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word

       As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:

       Have at thee, coward!

       [They fight.]

       [Enter several of both Houses, who join the fray; then enter

       Citizens with clubs.]

       1 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.

       What noise is this?—Give me my long sword, ho!

       Lady Capulet.

       A crutch, a crutch!—Why call you for a sword?

       Capulet.

       My sword, I say!—Old Montague is come,

       And flourishes his blade in spite of me.

       [Enter Montague and his Lady Montague.]

       Montague.