Читать книгу Romeo & Juliet - William Shakespeare, William Szekspir, the Simon Studio - Страница 7

A hall in Capulet’s house.

Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins

First Servant:

Where’s Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher!

Second Servant:

When good manners shall lie all in one or two men’s hands and they unwashed too, ’tis a foul thing.

First Servant:

Away with the joint-stools, remove the court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell. Antony, and Potpan!

Second Servant:

Ay, boy, ready.

First Servant:

You are looked for and called for, asked for and sought for, in the great chamber.

Second Servant:

We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.

Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers

CAPULET:

Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you. Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty, She, I’ll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now? Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day That I have worn a visor and could tell A whispering tale in a fair lady’s ear, Such as would please: ’tis gone, ’tis gone, ’tis gone: You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play. A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls.

Music plays, and they dance

More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up, And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. Ah, sirrah, this unlook’d-for sport comes well. Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet; For you and I are past our dancing days: How long is’t now since last yourself and I Were in a mask?

Second Capulet:

By’r lady, thirty years.

CAPULET:

What, man! ’tis not so much, ’tis not so much: ’Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio, Come pentecost as quickly as it will, Some five and twenty years; and then we mask’d.

Second Capulet:

’Tis more, ’tis more, his son is elder, sir; His son is thirty.

CAPULET:

Will you tell me that? His son was but a ward two years ago.

ROMEO:

[To a Servingman]

What lady is that, which doth enrich the hand Of yonder knight?

Servant:

I know not, sir.

ROMEO:

O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, As yonder lady o’er her fellows shows. The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand, And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.

TYBALT:

This, by his voice, should be a Montague. Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave Come hither, cover’d with an antic face, To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin.

CAPULET:

Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so?

TYBALT:

Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe, A villain that is hither come in spite, To scorn at our solemnity this night.

CAPULET:

Young Romeo is it?

TYBALT:

’Tis he, that villain Romeo.

CAPULET:

Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone; He bears him like a portly gentleman; And, to say truth, Verona brags of him To be a virtuous and well-govern’d youth: I would not for the wealth of all the town Here in my house do him disparagement: Therefore be patient, take no note of him: It is my will, the which if thou respect, Show a fair presence and put off these frowns, And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.

TYBALT:

It fits, when such a villain is a guest: I’ll not endure him.

CAPULET:

He shall be endured: What, goodman boy! I say, he shall: go to; Am I the master here, or you? go to. You’ll not endure him! God shall mend my soul! You’ll make a mutiny among my guests! You will set cock-a-hoop! you’ll be the man!

TYBALT:

Why, uncle, ’tis a shame.

CAPULET:

Go to, go to; You are a saucy boy: is’t so, indeed? This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what: You must contrary me! marry, ’tis time. Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go: Be quiet, or-More light, more light! For shame! I’ll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts!

TYBALT:

Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall.

Exit

ROMEO:

[To JULIET]

If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

JULIET:

Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.

ROMEO:

Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

JULIET:

Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.