罗密欧与朱丽叶现代版的电影英文台词

Play Script - Text　　Romeo and Juliet　　Romeo and Juliet　　Site Map Page Back Play Index Refer a Friend　　Script of Act I Romeo and Juliet　　The play by William Shakespeare　　Introduction　　This section contains the script of Act I of Romeo and Juliet the play by William Shakespeare。 The enduring works of William Shakespeare feature many famous and well loved characters。 Make a note of any unusual words that you encounter whilst reading the script of Romeo and Juliet and check their definition in the Shakespeare Dictionary The script of Romeo and Juliet is extremely long。 To reduce the time to load the script of the play, and for ease in accessing specific sections of the script, we have separated the text of Romeo and Juliet into Acts。 Please click Romeo and Juliet Script to access further Acts。　　Script / Text of Act I Romeo and Juliet　　PROLOGUE　　Two households, both alike in dignity,　　In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,　　From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,　　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;　　Whole misadventured piteous overthrows　　Do 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, nought 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。　　SCENE I。 Verona。 A public place。　　Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, 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, and 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 the 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 a 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　　[Aside to GREGORY] 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　　If you do, sir, I 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　　First 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 LADY MONTAGUE　　MONTAGUE　　Thou villain Capulet,--Hold me not, let me go。　　LADY MONTAGUE　　Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe。　　Enter PRINCE, with Attendants　　PRINCE　　Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,　　Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,--　　Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,　　That quench the fire of your pernicious rage　　With purple fountains issuing from your veins,　　On pain of torture, from those bloody hands　　Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground,　　And hear the sentence of your moved prince。　　Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,　　By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,　　Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets,　　And made Verona's ancient citizens　　Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,　　To wield old partisans, in hands as old,　　Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate:　　If ever you disturb our streets again,　　Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace。　　For this time, all the rest depart away:　　You Capulet; shall go along with me:　　And, Montague, come you this afternoon,　　To know our further pleasure in this case,　　To old Free-town, our common judgment-place。　　Once more, on pain of death, all men depart。　　Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO　　MONTAGUE　　Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?　　Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?　　BENVOLIO　　Here were the servants of your adversary,　　And yours, close fighting ere I did approach:　　I drew to part them: in the instant came　　The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared,　　Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears,　　He swung about his head and cut the winds,　　Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn:　　While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,　　Came more and more and fought on part and part,　　Till the prince came, who parted either part。　　LADY MONTAGUE　　O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day?　　Right glad I am he was not at this fray。　　BENVOLIO　　Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun　　Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,　　A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;　　Where, underneath the grove of sycamore　　That westward rooteth from the city's side,　　So early walking did I see your son:　　Towards him I made, but he was ware of me　　And stole into the covert of the wood:　　I, measuring his affections by my own,　　That most are busied when they're most alone,　　Pursued my humour not pursuing his,　　And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me。　　MONTAGUE　　Many a morning hath he there been seen,　　With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew。　　Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;　　But all so soon as the all-cheering sun　　Should in the furthest east begin to draw　　The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,　　Away from the light steals home my heavy son,　　And private in his chamber pens himself,　　Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out　　And makes himself an artificial night:　　Black and portentous must this humour prove,　　Unless good counsel may the cause remove。　　BENVOLIO　　My noble uncle, do you know the cause?　　MONTAGUE　　I neither know it nor can learn of him。　　BENVOLIO　　Have you importuned him by any means?　　MONTAGUE　　Both by myself and many other friends:　　But he, his own affections' counsellor,　　Is to himself--I will not say how true--　　But to himself so secret and so close,　　So far from sounding and discovery,　　As is the bud bit with an envious worm,　　Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,　　Or dedicate his beauty to the sun。　　Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow。　　We would as willingly give cure as know。　　Enter ROMEO　　BENVOLIO　　See, where he comes: so please you, step aside;　　I'll know his grievance, or be much denied。　　MONTAGUE　　I would thou wert so happy by thy stay,　　To hear true shrift。 Come, madam, let's away。　　Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE　　BENVOLIO　　Good-morrow, cousin。　　ROMEO　　Is the day so young?　　BENVOLIO　　But new struck nine。　　ROMEO　　Ay me! sad hours seem long。　　Was that my father that went hence so fast?　　BENVOLIO　　It was。 What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?　　ROMEO　　Not having that, which, having, makes them short。　　BENVOLIO　　In love?　　ROMEO　　Out--　　BENVOLIO　　Of love?　　ROMEO　　Out of her favour, where I am in love。　　BENVOLIO　　Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,　　Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!　　ROMEO　　Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,　　Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!　　Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?　　Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all。　　Here's much to do with hate, but more with love。　　Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!　　O any thing, of nothing first create!　　O heavy lightness! serious vanity!　　Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!　　Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire,　　sick health!　　Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!　　This love feel I, that feel no love in this。　　Dost thou not laugh?　　BENVOLIO　　No, coz, I rather weep。　　ROMEO　　Good heart, at what?　　BENVOLIO　　At thy good heart's oppression。　　ROMEO　　Why, such is love's transgression。　　Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,　　Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest　　With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown　　Doth add more grief to too much of mine own。　　Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;　　Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;　　Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:　　What is it else? a madness most discreet,　　A choking gall and a preserving sweet。　　Farewell, my coz。　　BENVOLIO　　Soft! I will go along;　　An if you leave me so, you do me wrong。　　ROMEO　　Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here;　　This is not Romeo, he's some other where。　　BENVOLIO　　Tell me in sadness, who is that you love。　　ROMEO　　What, shall I groan and tell thee?　　BENVOLIO　　Groan! why, no。　　But sadly tell me who。　　ROMEO　　Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:　　Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!　　In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman。　　BENVOLIO　　I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved。　　ROMEO　　A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love。　　BENVOLIO　　A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit。　　ROMEO　　Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit　　With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit;　　And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,　　From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd。　　She will not stay the siege of loving terms,　　Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,　　Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold:　　O, she is rich in beauty, only poor,　　That when she dies with beauty dies her store。　　BENVOLIO　　Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?　　ROMEO　　She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste,　　For beauty starved with her severity　　Cuts beauty off from all posterity。　　She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,　　To merit bliss by making me despair:　　She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow　　Do I live dead that live to tell it now。　　BENVOLIO　　Be ruled by me, forget to think of her。　　ROMEO　　O, teach me how I should forget to think。　　BENVOLIO　　By giving liberty unto thine eyes;　　Examine other beauties。　　ROMEO　　'Tis the way　　To call hers exquisite, in question more:　　These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows　　Being black put us in mind they hide the fair;　　He that is strucken blind cannot forget　　The precious treasure of his eyesight lost:　　Show me a mistress that is passing fair,　　What doth her beauty serve, but as a note　　Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?　　Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget。　　BENVOLIO　　I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt。　　Exeunt　　SCENE II。 A street。　　Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant　　CAPULET　　But Montague is bound as well as I,　　In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think,　　For men so old as we to keep the peace。　　PARIS　　Of honourable reckoning are you both;　　And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long。　　But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?　　CAPULET　　But saying o'er what I have said before:　　My child is yet a stranger in the world;　　She hath not seen the change of fourteen years,　　Let two more summers wither in their pride,　　Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride。　　PARIS　　Younger than she are happy mothers made。　　CAPULET　　And too soon marr'd are those so early made。　　The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she,　　She is the hopeful lady of my earth:　　But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,　　My will to her consent is but a part;　　An she agree, within her scope of choice　　Lies my consent and fair according voice。　　This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,　　Whereto I have invited many a guest,　　Such as I love; and you, among the store,　　One more, most welcome, makes my number more。　　At my poor house look to behold this night　　Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:　　Such comfort as do lusty young men feel　　When well-apparell'd April on the heel　　Of limping winter treads, even such delight　　Among fresh female buds shall you this night　　Inherit at my house; hear all, all see,　　And like her most whose merit most shall be:　　Which on more view, of many mine being one　　May stand in number, though in reckoning none,　　Come, go with me。　　To Servant, giving a paper　　Go, sirrah, trudge about　　Through fair Verona; find those persons out　　Whose names are written there, and to them say,　　My house and welcome on their pleasure stay。　　Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS　　Servant　　Find them out whose names are written here! It is　　written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his　　yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with　　his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am　　sent to find those persons whose names are here　　writ, and can never find what names the writing　　person hath here writ。 I must to the learned。--In good time。　　Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO　　BENVOLIO　　Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning,　　One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish;　　Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;　　One desperate grief cures with another's languish:　　Take thou some new infection to thy eye,　　And the rank poison of the old will die。　　ROMEO　　Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that。　　BENVOLIO　　For what, I pray thee?　　ROMEO　　For your broken shin。　　BENVOLIO　　Why, Romeo, art thou mad?　　ROMEO　　Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is;　　Shut up in prison, kept without my food,　　Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow。　　Servant　　God gi' god-den。 I pray, sir, can you read?　　ROMEO　　Ay, mine own fortune in my misery。　　Servant　　Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I　　pray, can you read any thing you see?　　ROMEO　　Ay, if I know the letters and the language。　　Servant　　Ye say honestly: rest you merry!　　ROMEO　　Stay, fellow; I can read。　　Reads　　'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;　　County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady　　widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely　　nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine　　uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece　　Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin　　Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena。' A fair　　assembly: whither should they come?　　Servant　　Up。　　ROMEO　　Whither?　　Servant　　To supper; to our house。　　ROMEO　　Whose house?　　Servant　　My master's。　　ROMEO　　Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before。　　Servant　　Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the　　great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house　　of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine。　　Rest you merry!　　Exit　　BENVOLIO　　At this same ancient feast of Capulet's　　Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest,　　With all the admired beauties of Verona:　　Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,　　Compare her face with some that I shall show,　　And I will make thee think thy swan a crow。　　ROMEO　　When the devout religion of mine eye　　Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires;　　And these, who often drown'd could never die,　　Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!　　One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun　　Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun。　　BENVOLIO　　Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by,　　Herself poised with herself in either eye:　　But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd　　Your lady's love against some other maid　　That I will show you shining at this feast,　　And she shall scant show well that now shows best。　　ROMEO　　I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,　　But to rejoice in splendor of mine own。　　Exeunt　　SCENE III。 A room in Capulet's house。　　Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse　　LADY CAPULET　　Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me。　　Nurse　　Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old,　　I bade her come。 What, lamb! what, ladybird!　　God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet!　　Enter JULIET　　JULIET　　How now! who calls?　　Nurse　　Your mother。　　JULIET　　Madam, I am here。　　What is your will?　　LADY CAPULET　　This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave awhile,　　We must talk in secret:--nurse, come back again;　　I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel。　　Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age。　　Nurse　　Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour。　　LADY CAPULET　　She's not fourteen。　　Nurse　　I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,--　　And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four--　　She is not fourteen。 How long is it now　　To Lammas-tide?　　LADY CAPULET　　A fortnight and odd days。　　Nurse　　Even or odd, of all days in the year,　　Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen。　　Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!--　　Were of an age: well, Susan is with God;　　She was too good for me: but, as I said,　　On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;　　That shall she, marry; I remember it well。　　'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;　　And she was wean'd,--I never shall forget it,--　　Of all the days of the year, upon that day:　　For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,　　Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall;　　My lord and you were then at Mantua:--　　Nay, I do bear a brain:--but, as I said,　　When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple　　Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool,　　To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug!　　Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow,　　To bid me trudge:　　And since that time it is eleven years;　　For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood,　　She could have run and waddled all about;　　For even the day before, she broke her brow:　　And then my husband--God be with his soul!　　A' was a merry man--took up the child:　　'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face?　　Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;　　Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame,　　The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay。'　　To see, now, how a jest shall come about!　　I wa