Romeo and Juliet
Act I, Prologue
The Chorus addresses the audience
The Chorus opens the play with a sonnet that summarizes the action to come. Two equally noble Verona families, locked in an ancient feud, will produce a pair of doomed lovers whose deaths finally end their parents’ strife. The audience is asked to listen with patience.
The Prologue sets the genre (tragedy), the place (Verona), and the outcome (the lovers die) before a single character has spoken. The play is built around a known ending.
Chorus
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.
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
In the beautiful city of Verona — the setting for our play — new violence breaks out between two equally noble families that hold ancient grudges for each other, staining citizens' hands with the blood of their fellow citizens.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents’ strife.
A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents’ strife.
A pair of doomed lovers, born into these warring families, die by suicide; their tragic misfortune and death brings an end to their parents’ feud.
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.
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.
The terrible course of their doomed love, and the unrelenting rage of their parents — which only their own children’s death could put a stop to — is the subject of our play. If you pay attention, whatever we have skipped over here will be explained in our performance.
Exit. — End of Prologue.
Act I, Scene I
Verona. A public place.
Two Capulet servants, Sampson and Gregory, swagger through Verona’s streets joking about how readily they would fight any Montague. Two Montague servants enter; Sampson provokes them with the rude gesture of biting his thumb, and a brawl breaks out. Benvolio (Montague’s nephew) draws his sword to part the fight; Tybalt (Lady Capulet’s nephew) arrives and refuses to make peace. Citizens with clubs run in to break up the spreading riot; Lord and Lady Capulet and Lord and Lady Montague enter and call for swords. The Prince of Verona arrives, rebukes the families for the third public brawl their feud has caused, and threatens death to anyone who disturbs the streets again.
After the others leave, Benvolio recounts how the fight began. Lady Montague asks after Romeo, glad he was not in the fray. Benvolio reports that he saw Romeo before dawn, alone in a sycamore grove; Montague worries about his son’s deepening melancholy. Romeo enters, and his parents step aside so Benvolio can find out what is wrong. Romeo confides that he is in love with a woman who has sworn herself to chastity. Benvolio urges him to look at other women; Romeo refuses, saying no one could rival her beauty.
The scene establishes the feud, introduces every major Montague and Capulet by name, and presents a Romeo who is already practised in the postures of courtly love — before he has met Juliet.
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, believe me, we'll not let anyone take our honor.
Gregory
No, for then we should be colliers.
No — because that'd make us losers.
Sampson
I mean, an we be in choler, we’ll draw.
I mean — if we get riled up, we’ll draw our swords.
Gregory
Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o’ the collar.
Yeah — while you're alive, keep your neck out of the hangman’s noose.
Sampson
I strike quickly, being moved.
Once provoked, I strike fast.
Gregory
But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
But you’re not quickly provoked to strike.
Sampson
A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
A dog from the Montague house can provoke me.
Gregory
To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn’st away.
To be moved is to budge — and to be brave is to stand your ground; so if you’re moved, you run 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.
A dog from that house will move me to stand my ground — I’ll take the wall from any Montague man or maid.
Gregory
That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall.
That marks you as a weakling — because the weakest gets pushed 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.
True — and women, being the weaker vessels, are always thrust to the wall. So I’ll push Montague’s men away from the wall, and thrust his maids against it.
Gregory
The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.
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.
It’s all the same to me — I’ll play the tyrant. Once I’ve fought the men, I’ll be cruel to the maids and cut off their heads.
Gregory
The heads of the maids?
The heads of the maids?
Sampson
Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt.
Yes — the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it whichever way you like.
Gregory
They must take it in sense that feel it.
Whoever feels it has to take it in some sense.
Sampson
Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and ’tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.
They’ll feel me as long as I can stand — and it’s well known I’m a fine piece of flesh.
Gregory
’Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John.
Just as well you’re not fish — if you were, you’d have been a wretched salt-cod.
Draw thy tool! here comes two of the house of the Montagues.
Draw your weapon! Here come two from the Montague house.
Sampson
My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.
My weapon is drawn — pick the quarrel, I’ll back you up.
Gregory
How! turn thy back and run?
What — turn your back and run?
Sampson
Fear me not.
Don’t worry about me.
Gregory
No, marry; I fear thee!
No, by my faith — I fear you!
Sampson
Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
Let’s keep the law on our side — let them start it.
Gregory
I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list.
I’ll frown as I walk past, and let them take it however they please.
Sampson
Nay, as they dare.
No — as they dare.
I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.
I’ll bite my thumb at them — which is a disgrace to them if they put up with it.
Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR.
Abraham
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Are you biting your thumb at us, sir?
Sampson
I do bite my thumb, sir.
I am biting my thumb, sir.
Abraham
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Are you biting your thumb at us, sir?
Sampson
[Aside to Gregory] Is the law of our side, if I say ay?
[Aside to Gregory] Is the law on our side if I say yes?
Gregory
No.
No.
Sampson
No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I bite my thumb, sir.
No, sir, I’m not biting my thumb at you, sir — but I am biting my thumb, sir.
Gregory
Do you quarrel, sir?
Are you trying to start a fight, sir?
Abraham
Quarrel sir! no, sir.
A fight, sir? No, sir.
Sampson
If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you.
If you are, sir, I’m ready for you — my master is as good as yours.
Abraham
No better.
No better.
Sampson
Well, sir.
Well, sir.
Gregory
Say ‘better:’ here comes one of my master’s kinsmen.
Say ‘better’ — here comes one of my master’s kinsmen.
Sampson
Yes, better, sir.
Yes — better, sir.
Abraham
You lie.
You lie.
Sampson
Draw, if you be men.
Draw, if you’re men.
Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.
Gregory — remember your slashing blow.
They fight. Enter BENVOLIO.
Benvolio
Part, fools!
Put up your swords; you know not what you do.
Put up your swords; you know not what you do.
Part, fools! Put up your swords — you don’t know what you’re doing.
Beats down their swords. Enter TYBALT.
Tybalt
What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
What — you’ve drawn your sword among these cowardly servants?
Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
Turn around, Benvolio — and look upon your death.
Benvolio
I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
Or manage it to part these men with me.
I’m only keeping the peace. Put up your sword — or use it to help me part these men.
Tybalt
What, drawn, and talk of peace!
What — drawn, and talking of peace!
I hate the word,
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
Have at thee, coward!
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
Have at thee, coward!
I hate that word as I hate hell, all Montagues, and you. Have at you, coward!
They fight. Enter several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter CITIZENS with clubs.
First Citizen
Clubs, bills, and partisans!
Clubs, halberds, partisans!
strike! beat them down!
Strike! Beat them down!
Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!
Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!
Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET.
Capulet
What noise is this?
What is all this noise?
Give me my long sword, ho!
Bring me my long sword, ho!
Lady Capulet
A crutch, a crutch!
A crutch — a crutch!
why call you for a sword?
Why are you calling for a sword?
Capulet
My sword, I say!
My sword, I say!
Old Montague is come,
And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
Old Montague has come, and is brandishing his blade to spite me.
Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE.
Montague
Thou villain Capulet,—Hold me not, let me go.
You villain, Capulet — don’t hold me, let me go.
Lady Montague
Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.
You will not move a single foot to seek out an enemy.
Enter PRINCE, with ATTENDANTS.
Prince
Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,—
Will they not hear?
Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,—
Will they not hear?
Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, defilers of this steel that has been stained with the blood of your neighbours — will they not hear me?
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.
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.
What — ho! You men, you beasts, who quench the fire of your wicked rage with red fountains pouring from your own veins — on pain of torture, throw your ill-tempered weapons from those bloody hands to the ground, and hear the sentence of your angered 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.
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.
Three public brawls, bred of a careless word — by you, old Capulet, and you, Montague — have three times disturbed the quiet of our streets, and forced Verona’s elder citizens to cast aside their dignified ornaments and take up old weapons in hands as old, rusted with peace, to break up your rusted hate. If ever you disturb our streets again, your lives shall pay the forfeit.
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.
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.
For now, the rest of you depart. You, Capulet, shall come along with me; and Montague, come this afternoon to old Free-town, our common judgment-place, to learn my further ruling.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
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?
Who set this ancient quarrel running again?
Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
Speak, nephew — were you here 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.
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.
Your enemy’s servants and yours were already at close quarters when I arrived; I drew to part them. At that instant the fiery Tybalt came, with his sword ready, and as he hissed defiance at me he swung it about his head and cut the empty air — which, untouched, hissed back at him in scorn. While we were exchanging thrusts and blows, more and more men came and fought on each side, until the Prince arrived and parted them all.
Lady Montague
O, where is Romeo?
Oh — where is Romeo?
saw you him to-day?
Have you seen him today?
Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
I’m very glad he was not at this fight.
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.
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.
Madam, an hour before the worshipped sun looked out from the golden window of the east, a troubled mind drove me to walk abroad. There, underneath the sycamore grove that grows westward from the city’s edge, so early in the morning, I saw your son. I started towards him, but he saw me first and stole into the cover of the wood. Measuring his mood by my own — my own, which is busiest when most alone — I followed my own humour and did not follow his, and gladly avoided one 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.
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.
Many a morning he has been seen there, his tears swelling the fresh morning dew, his deep sighs adding more clouds to the clouds. But as soon as the all-cheering sun, in the furthest east, begins to draw the shadowy curtains from Aurora’s bed, my heavy-hearted son steals away from the light back home, shuts himself up alone in his chamber, closes his windows, locks daylight out, and makes himself an artificial night. This mood will turn black and ominous unless good counsel can remove its cause.
Benvolio
My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
My noble uncle — do you know the cause?
Montague
I neither know it nor can learn of him.
I don’t know it — nor can I learn it from him.
Benvolio
Have you importuned him by any means?
Have you pressed him by any means at all?
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.
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.
Both myself and many other friends have tried; but he, his own counsel-keeper, is to himself — I won’t say how truly — so secret and so closed, so far from being plumbed or discovered, as a bud bitten by an envious worm before it can spread its sweet leaves to the air, or offer its beauty to the sun.
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow.
We would as willingly give cure as know.
We would as willingly give cure as know.
If only we could learn where his sorrows come from, we would give the cure as willingly as we’d find out the cause.
Enter ROMEO.
Benvolio
See, where he comes: so please you, step aside;
I’ll know his grievance, or be much denied.
I’ll know his grievance, or be much denied.
Look — here he comes. If it please you, step aside; I’ll learn his grievance, or be flatly refused.
Montague
I would thou wert so happy by thy stay,
To hear true shrift.
To hear true shrift.
I wish you may be lucky enough, by staying, to hear his honest confession.
Come, madam, let’s away.
Come, madam — let’s away.
Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE.
Benvolio
Good-morrow, cousin.
Good morning, cousin.
Romeo
Is the day so young?
Is the day still so young?
Benvolio
But new struck nine.
It has only just struck nine.
Romeo
Ay me!
Ah me!
sad hours seem long.
Sad hours seem long.
Was that my father that went hence so fast?
Was that my father who left so quickly?
Benvolio
It was.
It was.
What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours?
What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours?
Romeo
Not having that, which, having, makes them short.
Not having that which, if I had, would make them short.
Benvolio
In love?
In love?
Romeo
Out—
Out—
Benvolio
Of love?
Of love?
Romeo
Out of her favour, where I am in love.
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!
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
Alas, that love, so gentle in appearance, should prove so tyrannous and rough!
Romeo
Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,
Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!
Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!
Alas, that love, whose sight is forever blindfolded, should still — without eyes — see ways to get what he wants!
Where shall we dine?
Where shall we dine?
O me!
Oh me!
What fray was here?
What fight was here?
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
No — don’t tell me; I’ve heard it all already.
Here’s much to do with hate, but more with love.
Here is much to do with hate — but more to do with love.
Why, then, O brawling love!
Why then — O brawling love!
O loving hate!
O loving hate!
O any thing, of nothing first create!
O anything — created first out of nothing!
O heavy lightness!
O heavy lightness!
serious vanity!
Serious vanity!
Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire,
sick health!
sick health!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
Sleep that never sleeps — that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
This is the love I feel — I who feel no love in any of this.
Dost thou not laugh?
Do you not laugh?
Benvolio
No, coz, I rather weep.
No, cousin — I rather weep.
Romeo
Good heart, at what?
Good heart — at what?
Benvolio
At thy good heart’s oppression.
At your good heart’s oppression.
Romeo
Why, such is love’s transgression.
Why — such is love’s offence.
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.
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.
Griefs of my own already lie heavy in my breast; you will only multiply them, weighing me down with more of yours. The love you’ve just shown me adds more grief to too much of my 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?
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes;
Being vex’d a sea nourish’d with lovers’ tears:
What is it else?
Love is a smoke made of sighs; cleared, it is a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes; troubled, a sea fed by lovers’ tears. What else is it?
a madness most discreet,
A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
A most discreet madness — a choking bitterness and a preserving sweetness.
Farewell, my coz.
Farewell, my cousin.
Benvolio
Soft!
Wait!
I will go along;
An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
I’ll come with you; if you leave me like this, you wrong me.
Romeo
Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here;
This is not Romeo, he’s some other where.
This is not Romeo, he’s some other where.
Tut — I have lost myself; I am not here. This is not Romeo — he is somewhere else.
Benvolio
Tell me in sadness, who is that you love.
Tell me seriously — who is it you love?
Romeo
What, shall I groan and tell thee?
What — shall I groan and tell you?
Benvolio
Groan!
Groan!
why, no.
No — why?
But sadly tell me who.
But tell me, in earnest, who.
Romeo
Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:
Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!
Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!
You may as well bid a sick man, in earnest, write his will — a word badly chosen for one already so ill!
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
In earnest, cousin — I do love a woman.
Benvolio
I aim’d so near, when I supposed you loved.
I came that close to it, when I guessed you were in love.
Romeo
A right good mark-man!
A truly fine marksman!
And she’s fair I love.
And the one I love is beautiful.
Benvolio
A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
A truly fair target, fair cousin, is the one most easily 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.
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.
Well, in that shot you miss. She will not be hit by Cupid’s arrow — she has Diana’s mind, and, well-armoured in unbreachable chastity, she lives unhurt by love’s weak childish bow.
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.
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.
She will not endure the siege of loving words, nor face the assault of insistent eyes, nor open her lap to gold that can seduce even saints. Oh — she is rich in beauty, poor only in this: that when she dies, her store of beauty dies with her.
Benvolio
Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
So she has sworn she will live chaste forever?
Romeo
She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste,
For beauty starved with her severity
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
For beauty starved with her severity
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
She has — and in that thrift she works huge waste, since beauty starved by her strictness cuts beauty off from any future generation.
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.
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.
She is too beautiful, too wise, wisely too beautiful, to deserve bliss by driving me to despair. She has sworn off love — and bound by that vow, I live dead, even as I live to tell of it now.
Benvolio
Be ruled by me, forget to think of her.
Take my advice — forget to think of her.
Romeo
O, teach me how I should forget to think.
Oh — teach me how I should forget to think.
Benvolio
By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
Examine other beauties.
Examine other beauties.
By giving liberty to your eyes — look at 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?
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?
That’s the way to call hers exquisite all the more by comparison. The black masks ladies wear, kissing fair brows, only remind us of the beauty they hide. A man struck blind cannot forget the precious treasure of the sight he’s lost. Show me a beautiful mistress — what does her beauty do but serve as a note, on which I may read who outshone even that great beauty?
Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget.
Farewell — you cannot teach me to forget.
Benvolio
I’ll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
I’ll teach you that lesson — or else die in debt.
Exeunt. — End of Act I, Scene I.