romeo and juliet(罗蜜欧和朱丽叶)-第7节
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sun advance his burning eye The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry；
I must up…fill this osier cage of ours With baleful weeds and precious…
juiced flowers。 The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb。 What is her
burying gave； that is her womb； And from her womb children of divers
kind We sucking on her natural bosom find； Many for many virtues
excellent； None but for some； and yet all different。 O； mickle is the
powerful grace that lies In plants； herbs； stones； and their true qualities；
For naught so vile that on the earth doth live But to the earth some special
good doth give； Nor aught so good but； strain'd from that fair use； Revolts
from true birth； stumbling on abuse。 Virtue itself turns vice； being
misapplied； And vice sometime's by action dignified。 Within the infant
rind of this small flower Poison hath residence； and medicine power； For
this； being smelt； with that part cheers each part； Being tasted； slays all
senses with the heart。 Two such opposed kings encamp them still In man
as well as herbs… grace and rude will； And where the worser is
predominant； Full soon the canker death eats up that plant。
Enter Romeo。
Rom。 Good morrow； father。 Friar。 Benedicite！ What early tongue so
sweet saluteth me？ Young son； it argues a distempered head So soon to bid
good morrow to thy bed。 Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye；
And where care lodges sleep will never lie； But where unbruised youth
with unstuff'd brain Doth couch his limbs； there golden sleep doth reign。
Therefore thy earliness doth me assure Thou art uprous'd with some
distemp'rature； Or if not so； then here I hit it right… Our Romeo hath not
been in bed to…night。 Rom。 That last is true…the sweeter rest was mine。
Friar。 God pardon sin！ Wast thou with Rosaline？ Rom。 With Rosaline； my
ghostly father？ No。 I have forgot that name； and that name's woe。 Friar。
That's my good son！ But where hast thou been then？ Rom。 I'll tell thee ere
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thou ask it me again。 I have been feasting with mine enemy； Where on a
sudden one hath wounded me That's by me wounded。 Both our remedies
Within thy help and holy physic lies。 I bear no hatred； blessed man； for； lo；
My intercession likewise steads my foe。 Friar。 Be plain； good son； and
homely in thy drift Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift。 Rom。
Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set On the fair daughter of rich
Capulet； As mine on hers； so hers is set on mine； And all combin'd； save
what thou must combine By holy marriage。 When； and where； and how
We met； we woo'd； and made exchange of vow； I'll tell thee as we pass；
but this I pray； That thou consent to marry us to…day。 Friar。 Holy Saint
Francis！ What a change is here！ Is Rosaline； that thou didst love so dear；
So soon forsaken？ Young men's love then lies Not truly in their hearts； but
in their eyes。 Jesu Maria！ What a deal of brine Hath wash'd thy sallow
cheeks for Rosaline！ How much salt water thrown away in waste； To
season love； that of it doth not taste！ The sun not yet thy sighs from
heaven clears； Thy old groans ring yet in mine ancient ears。 Lo； here upon
thy cheek the stain doth sit Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet。 If e'er
thou wast thyself； and these woes thine； Thou and these woes were all for
Rosaline。 And art thou chang'd？ Pronounce this sentence then： Women
may fall when there's no strength in men。 Rom。 Thou chid'st me oft for
loving Rosaline。 Friar。 For doting； not for loving； pupil mine。 Rom。 And
bad'st me bury love。 Friar。 Not in a grave To lay one in； another out to
have。 Rom。 I pray thee chide not。 She whom I love now Doth grace for
grace and love for love allow。 The other did not so。 Friar。 O； she knew well
Thy love did read by rote； that could not spell。 But come； young waverer；
come go with me。 In one respect I'll thy assistant be； For this alliance may
so happy prove To turn your households' rancour to pure love。 Rom。 O； let
us hence！ I stand on sudden haste。 Friar。 Wisely； and slow。 They stumble
that run fast。 Exeunt。
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SCENE IV。 A street。
Enter Benvolio and Mercutio。
Mer。 Where the devil should this Romeo be？ Came he not home to…
night？ Ben。 Not to his father's。 I spoke with his man。 Mer。 Why； that same
pale hard…hearted wench； that Rosaline； Torments him so that he will sure
run mad。 Ben。 Tybalt； the kinsman to old Capulet； Hath sent a letter to his
father's house。 Mer。 A challenge； on my life。 Ben。 Romeo will answer it。
Mer。 Any man that can write may answer a letter。 Ben。 Nay； he will answer
the letter's master； how he dares； being dared。 Mer。 Alas； poor Romeo； he
is already dead！ stabb'd with a white wench's black eye； shot through the
ear with a love song； the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow…
boy's butt…shaft； and is he a man to encounter Tybalt？ Ben。 Why； what is
Tybalt？ Mer。 More than Prince of Cats； I can tell you。 O； he's the
courageous captain of compliments。 He fights as you sing pricksong…keeps
time； distance； and proportion； rests me his minim rest； one； two； and the
third in your bosom！ the very butcher of a silk button； a duellist； a duellist！
a gentleman of the very first house； of the first and second cause。 Ah； the
immortal passado！ the punto reverse！ the hay。 Ben。 The what？ Mer。 The
pox of such antic； lisping； affecting fantasticoes… these new tuners of
accent！ 'By Jesu； a very good blade！ a very tall man！ a very good whore！'
Why； is not this a lamentable thing； grandsir； that we should be thus
afflicted with these strange flies； these fashion…mongers； these pardona…
mi's； who stand so much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on
the old bench？ O； their bones； their bones！
Enter Romeo。
Ben。 Here comes Romeo！ here comes Romeo！ Mer。 Without his roe；
like a dried herring。 O flesh； flesh； how art thou fishified！ Now is he for
the numbers that Petrarch flowed in。 Laura； to his lady； was but a kitchen
wench （marry； she had a better love to berhyme her）； Dido a dowdy；
Cleopatra a gypsy； Helen and Hero hildings and harlots； This be a gray eye
or so； but not to the purpose。 Signior Romeo； bon jour！ There's a French
salutation to your French slop。 You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night。
Rom。 Good morrow to you both。 What counterfeit did I give you？ Mer。
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The slip； sir； the slip。 Can you not conceive？ Rom。 Pardon； good Mercutio。
My business was great； and in such a case as mine a man may strain
courtesy。 Mer。 That's as much as to say； such a case as yours constrains a
man to bow in the hams。 Rom。 Meaning； to cursy。 Mer。 Thou hast most
kindly hit it。 Rom。 A most courteous exposition。 Mer。 Nay； I am the very
pink of courtesy。 Rom。 Pink for flower。 Mer。 Right。 Rom。 Why； then is my
pump well…flower'd。 Mer。 Well said！ Follow me this jest now till thou hast
worn out thy pump； that； when the single sole of it is worn； the jest may
remain； after the wearing； solely singular。 Rom。 O single…sold jest； solely
singular for the singleness！ Mer。 Come between us； good Benvolio！ My
wits faint。 Rom。 Swits and spurs； swits and spurs！ or I'll cry a match。 Mer。
Nay； if our wits run the wild…goose chase； I am done； for thou hast more of
the wild goose in one of thy wits than； I am sure； I have in my whole five。
Was I with you there for the goose？ Rom。 Thou wast never with me for
anything when thou wast not there for the goose。 Mer。 I will bite thee by
the ear for that jest。 Rom。 Nay； good goose； bite not！ Mer。 Thy wit is a
very bitter sweeting； it is a most sharp sauce。 Rom。 And is it not； then；
well serv'd in to a sweet goose？ Mer。 O； here's a wit of cheveril； that
stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad！ Rom。 I stretch it out for that
word 'broad；' which； added to
