« 上一頁繼續 »
Sound drums and trumpets boldly and cheer. If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell. fully ;
His oration to his Army. God and Saint George ! Richmond and victory!
What shall I say more than I have inferr'd ?
Remember whom you are to cope withal ; Re-enter KING RICHARD, RATCLIFF, Attend- A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways. ants and Forces.
A scum of Bretons, and base lackey peasants, K. Rich. What said Northumberland as Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth touching Richmond ?
To desperate ventures and assured destruction, Rat. That he was never trained up in arms. You sleeping safe, they bring to you unrest ; 1. Rich. He said the truth; and what said You having lands, and blest with beanteous Surrey then ?
321 Rat. He smiled and said "The better for They would restrain the one, distain the other, our purpose.'
And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow, K. Rich. He was in the right; and so indeed Long kept in Bretagne at our mother's cost ? it is.
[Clock striketh. A milk-sop, one that never in his life Tell the clock there. Give me a calendar. Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow ? Who saw the sun to-day ?
Let's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again ; Rat.
Not I, my lord. Lash hence these overweening rags of France, K. Rich. Then he disdains to shine ; for by These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives; the book
Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit, He should have braved the east an hour ago : For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd themA black day will it be to somebody. 280
331 Ratcliff !
If we be conquer'd, let men conquer us, Rat. My lord ?
And not these bastard Bretons ; whom our K. Rich. The sun will not be seen to-day ;
fathers The sky doth frown and lour upon our army. Have in their own land beaten, bobb’d, and I would these dewy tears were from the thump'd, ground.
And in record, left them the heirs of shame. Not shine to-day! Why, what is that to me Shall thesa enjoy our lands ? lie with our More than to Richmond ? for the selfsarlo
wives ? heaven
Ravish our daughters ? [Drum afar off) That frowns on me looks sadly upon him
Hark! I hear their drum.
Fight, gentlemen of England ! fight, bold yoeNor. Arm, arm, my lord ; the foe vaunts in
men ! the field.
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head! K. Rich. Come, bustle, bustle ; caparison Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in
blood; my horse. Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power: Amaze the welkin with your broken staves ! I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain, 291
Enter a Messenger. And thus my battle shall be ordered :
What says Lord Stanley ? will he bring his My foreward shall be drawn out all in length,
power ? Consisting equally of horse and foot ;
Mess. My lord, le doth deny to come. Our archers shall be placed in the midst : K. Rich. Off with his son George's head! John Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey, Nor. My lord, the enemy is past the marsh: Shall have the leading of this foot and horse. After the battle let George Stanley die. They thus directed, we will follow [side K. Rich. A thousand hearts are great In the main battle, whose puissance on either within my bosom : Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse. Advance our standards, set upon our foes ; This, and Saint George to boot ! What think'st Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint thou, Norfolk ?
George, Nor. A good direction, warlike sovereign. Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons ! 350 This found I on my tent this morning.
Upon them ! victory sits on our helms. [He sheveth him a paper.
[Exeunt. K. Rich. [Reads] Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold,
SCENE IV. Another part of the field. For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.' A thing devised by the enemy.
Alarum : excursions. Enter NORFOLK and Go, gentleman, every man unto his charge :
forces fighting; to him CATESBY. Let not our babbling dreams affright our Cate. Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk, rescue souls :
rescue! Conscience is but a word that cowards use, The king enacts more wonders than a man, Devised at first to keep the strong in awe: 310 Daring an opposite to every danger : Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights, law.
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death, March on. join bravely, let us to't pell-mell ; Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!
Alarums. Enter KING RICHARD, K. Rich. A horse! a horse ! my kingdom
for a horse ! Cate. Withdraw, my lord ; I'll help you to
& horse. X. Rich. Slave, I have set my life upon a
cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die : 10 I think there be six Richmonds in the field ; Fire hase I slain today instead of him. .horse! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse !
[Eceunt. SCENE V. Another part of the field. Almm. Enter RICHARD and RICHMOND ;
thry tight. RICHARD is slain, Retreat and tourish. Re-enter RICHMOND, DERBY
bonuring the croun, with divers other Lorus. Richm. God and your arms be praised,
victorious friends; The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead. Der. Courageons Richmond, well hast thou
acquit thee. lo, here, this long-usurped royalty From the dead temples of this bloody wretch Havel pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal : Bear it, enjoy it, and make much of it. Rilun. Great God of heaven, say Amen to
ail! But, tell me, is young George Stanley living ? 17. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester
town; Whither, if it please you, we may now with
draw us. Rich. What men of name are slain on
either side ?
Der. John Duke of Norfolk, Walter Lord
seli; The brother blindly shed the brother's blood, The father rashly slaughter'd his own son, The son, compellid, been butcher to the sire : All this divided York and Lancaster, Divided in their dire division, (), 01, let Richmond and Elizabeth, The true succeeders of each royal house, 30 By Godi's fair ordinance conjoin together! An Uet their heirs, God, if thy will be so, Enrich the time to come with smooth-faced
peace, With smiling plenty and fair prosperous days! Abate the eilge of traitors, gracious Lord, That would reduce these bloody days again, And make poor England weep in streams of
blood! Let them not live to taste this land's increase That would with treason wound this fair land's
peace! Now civil wounds are stoppid, peace lives
again : That she may long live here. God say ameni!
ROMEO AND JULIET.
(TWO DATES ARE ASSIGNED TO IT, 1591 AND 1596-97.)
The story of the unhappy lovers of Verona, as a supposed historical ccurrence, is referred to the year 1303 ; but no account of it exists of an earlier
date than that of Luigi da Porto, about 1530. The story quickly acquired a European celebrity. Published by Bandello in his collection of Italian novels in 1551, it was translated into French'ini 1.559 by Pierre Boisteau, and in three years moru touched English soil. Arthur Brooke in 1562 produced his long metrical version, founded upon Búisteau's novel, and a pure translation of Boisteau's work appeared in Paynter's Palace of Please ure in 15 7. We have here rachel Shakespeare's sources : Paynter he probably consulted; in nearly all essentials he follows the Romans and Juliet of Brooke. The precise date of Shakes speare's play is uncertain. In 1597 it was published in quarto, • as it hath been often (with great applause) plaid publiquely by the right Honorab.e the Lord of Hunsdon his servants." Now the Lord Chamberlain, Henry Lird Hmsdon, died July 22, 1596 ; his son, George Lord Hunsion, was appointed Chamberlain in April, 1597. Before July, 15:46, or after April, 1597, the theatrical company would have been stylel by the more honorable designation, “the Lord Chamberlain's servants ;” but during the interval they woululave been described as on the title-page of the quario. The Nurse's mention of the earthquake (Act | Sc. II., L. 23), ** 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years,' has been referred to as giving the date 1391. a mem rable earihquake, felt in London, having occurred in 1580; but, while professing an infallibly accurate recollection, the old woman blunders sailly bout her dates, so that even if an actual Engiish eart! quake were alluded to, he point of the jest may have been in the inaccuracy of the reference. The internal evidence favors the opinion that this tragedly was an early work of the poet, and tha it wils subsequently revised and enlarged. There is much rhyme, and much of this is in the form f alternate rlıyme; the forced playing upon words, ..nd the oversi raineri conceits point to an arly date We may perhaps accept the opinion that the pla, was begun, and in part written, as early as 1591, and that it assumed its final form about 1577. spart from its intrinsic beauty, Pomeo and Juliet is of diep interes when viewed as Shakespeare's first tragedy, and as a work which probably occupied hi thoughts, from time to time, during a series of year. It is a young man's trageily, in whi Yuth and Love are brought face to ice with latred and Death. The scene is essentilly Italian : the burning noon of July in the Italian city nilamne the blood of the street quarrelers; he voluptuous n.oonlit nights are only lik a softer d..y: And the characters are Italian, with their yrical ard r, their southern impetuosity of passion, and the southern forms and olor of their speech 'Romeo's 18ture is prone to enthusiastic feeling, and, as it were, vaguely trembling in the direction of love before he sees Juliet; to meet her gives form and fixit, to his vague emotion. To Juliet--a girl of fourteen-love comes as a thing pr riously unknown; it is at once terribly and blissful; she rises, through love, and sorrow, and trial, from hild into a heroic w mani, After Shakespear has exalted their enthusiastic joy and rapture to the highest point, he suddenly casis il down. Romeo is at first completely unmannel ; but Juliet exhibits a noble fortitude whd self com mand. Mercutio and th Nuse are almost creations of Shakespeare. Brooke had described Mer 1tio as "a lion among maidens," and speaks of his “ice-cold hand ;" but it was the dramatist who drew at full length the figure of this brilliant being, who though with wit running beyond what is becoming, and effervescent animal spirits, yet acts as a guardian of Romeo, and is always a gallant gentlemiin. He dies forcing a jest through his bodily anguislı, bu he dies on Romeo's behalf: the scene darkens as his figrire disappears. The artion is accelerated by Shakespeare to the utmost, the four or five months of Brooke's poem being reduced to as many days. On Sunday the lovers meet, next day they are made one in marriage, on Tuesday morning at dawn they part, and they are finally re-imited in the tonl on the night of Thursılay Shakespeare does not close the tragedy wiih Juliet's death : as he has shown in the first scene the hatred of the houses through the comic quarrel of the servants, thereby introducing the causes which produce the tragic issue, so in the last sceuo he shows us the houses sorrowfully reconciled over the dead bodies of a son and daughter.
DRAMATIS PERSONA. ESCALU's, prince of Verona.
ROMEO, son to Montague. Paris, a young nobleman, kinsman to the MERCUTIO, kinsman to the prince, and friend prince.
to Romeo. MONTAGUE, / heads of two houses at variance BENVOLio, nephew to Montague, and friend CAPULET, with each other.
to Romeo. An old man, cousin to Capulet.
TYBALT, nephew to Lady Capulet (264)
servants to Capalet.
LADY MONTAGUE, wife to Montague.
relations to both huuses ; Maskers,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
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
11 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
Sam. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant : when I have fough, with the men, I will be cruel with the maids, and cut off their heads. Gre. The heads of the maids ?
2. Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt.
Gre. They must take it in sense that feel it.
Sam. Me they shall feel while I am able to stand : and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.
Gre. '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.
Sam. My naked weapon is out : quarrel, I will back thee.
40 Gre. How ! turn thy back and run ? Sam. Fear me not. Gre. No, marry; I fear thee ! Sam. Let us take the law of our sides
let them begin.
Gre. I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list.
Sam. Nawy, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them ; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.
50 Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir ? Sam. I do bite my thumb, sir. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir ?
Sam. [Aside to Gre.] Is the law of our side, if I say ay ?
Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thuinbau you, sir, but I bite my thumb, sir.
Gre. Do you quarrel, sir?
60 Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you : I serve as good a man as you.
Abr, No better.
Gre. Say · better :' here comes one of my master's kinsmen. Sam. Yes, better, sir.
You lie. Sam. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. [They fight. 70
Enter BENVOLIO, Ben, Part, fools i
ACT I. SCENE I. Verona. A public place. Enter SAMPSON (od Greg Ry, of the house of
spuet, armed with swords and bucklers. Str. Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry
Gre. No, for then we should be colliers. Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck fit
. I strike quickly, being moved. Gre
. But thou art not quickly moved to Sam. A dog of the house of Montague
10 Gre. To move is to stir; and to be valiant is t) stand : therefore, if thon art moved, thou
SamA dog of that house shall move me
Olte terrill a berok mint, he sa He furtituie
it of the collar.
it was the du
of a sua do to stand : I will take the wall of any man or
maid of Montague's.
. That shows thee a weak slave; for the Feakest goes to the wall. Sun, 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. Gre. The quarrel is between our masters
and as their men,
Put up your swords ; you know not what you do.
[Beats down their swords.
heartless hinds ? Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. Ben. I do but keep the peace : put up thy
sword, Or manage it to part these men with me. Tyb. 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 Cit. Clubs, bills, and partisans ! strike ! beat them down !
80 Down with the Capulets ! down with the
Montagnes ! Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY
CAPULET. Car. What noise is this? Give me my
long sword, ho ! La. Cap. A crutchi, a crutch! why call
you for a sword Cap. My sword, I say ! Old Montague is
come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE. Mon. Thou villain Capulet,--Hold me not,
Once more, on pain of death, all men depa. [Exeunt all but Montague, Lady More
tagile, and Bincolis Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new
abroach ? Speak, nephew, were yon by when it began ? Ben. Here were the servants of your ad.
versary, And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: I drew to part thein : in the instant came The tiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared, Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears. lle swung about his head and cut the winds, Who nothing hurt withal hissd him in scorn While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,
120 Came more and more and fought on part and
part, Till the prince came, who parted either part. La. Jon. O, where is Romeo? saw you
him to-dity ? Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshippid 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 :
13) 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 mostare busied when they're most alone, Pursued my humor not pursuing his, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me Mon. Many a morning hath he there been
seen, With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew,
[sighs: Adding to clouds more clouds with his deer But all so soon as the all-cheering sun 14 Should in the furthest east begin to draw The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, Away from light steals home iny heavy son, And private in his chamber pens himself, Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out And makes himself an artificial night : Black and portentous must this humor prove Unless good counsel may the cause remove, Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the
cause ? Mon. I neither know it nor can learn o
him. Ben. Have you importuned him by an
means ? Mon. Both by myself and many othe
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 sorrow
let me go
La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek
Enter PRINCE, with Attendants. Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to
peace, Profaners of this neighbor-stained steel, Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,
90 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, 100 To wield old partisans, in hands as old, Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd
hate: If ever yon 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, Te old Free-town, our common judgmentplace.