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Shakespeare's Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet. William ShakespeareЧитать онлайн книгу.

Shakespeare's Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet - William Shakespeare


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name is Romeo, and a Montague,

      The only son of your great enemy.

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      Juliet. My only love sprung from my only hate!

      Too early seen unknown, and known too late!

      Prodigious birth of love it is to me,

      That I must love a loathed enemy.

      Nurse. What's this? what's this?

      Juliet. A 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.

      Capulet's Garden

       Table of Contents

       Enter Chorus

      Now old desire doth in his death-bed 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 any where.

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

      Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. [Exit.

       Table of Contents

      A Lane by the Wall of Capulet's Orchard

      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 stolen 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;

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      Cry but 'Ay 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,

      That in thy likeness thou appear to us!

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      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;

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      Blind is his love and best befits the dark.

      Mercutio. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.—

      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.

       Table of Contents

      Capulet's Orchard

      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.—

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      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,

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      As daylight doth a lamp;


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