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SCENE I. Mantua. A street.

Enter ROMEO

ROMEO

If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,
My dreams presage some joyful news at hand:
My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne;
And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
I dreamt my lady came and found me dead--
Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave
to think!--
And breathed such life with kisses in my lips,
That I revived, and was an emperor.
Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!

Enter BALTHASAR, booted

News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar!
Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
How doth my lady? Is my father well?
How fares my Juliet? that I ask again;
For nothing can be ill, if she be well.

BALTHASAR

Then she is well, and nothing can be ill:
Her body sleeps in Capel's monument,
And her immortal part with angels lives.
I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,
And presently took post to tell it you:
O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,
Since you did leave it for my office, sir.

ROMEO

Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!
Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper,
And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night.

BALTHASAR

I do beseech you, sir, have patience:
Your looks are pale and wild, and do import
Some misadventure.

ROMEO

Tush, thou art deceived:
Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.
Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?

BALTHASAR

No, my good lord.

ROMEO

No matter: get thee gone,
And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.

Exit BALTHASAR

Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.
Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
I do remember an apothecary,--
And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I noted
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples; meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones:
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuff'd, and other skins
Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said
'An if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.'
O, this same thought did but forerun my need;
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house.
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.
What, ho! apothecary!

Enter Apothecary

Apothecary

Who calls so loud?

ROMEO

Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor:
Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have
A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear
As will disperse itself through all the veins
That the life-weary taker may fall dead
And that the trunk may be discharged of breath
As violently as hasty powder fired
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.

Apothecary

Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law
Is death to any he that utters them.

ROMEO

Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,
And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,
Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,
Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back;
The world is not thy friend nor the world's law;
The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.

Apothecary

My poverty, but not my will, consents.

ROMEO

I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.

Apothecary

Put this in any liquid thing you will,
And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.

ROMEO

There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls,
Doing more murders in this loathsome world,
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none.
Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh.
Come, cordial and not poison, go with me
To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee.

Exeunt

 

罗密欧上。

罗密欧要是梦寐中的幻景果然可以代表真实,那么我的梦预兆着将有好消息到来;我觉得心君宁恬,整日里有一种向所没有的精神,用快乐的思想把我从地面上飘扬起来。我梦见我的爱人来看见我死了——奇怪的梦,一个死人也会思想!——她吻着我,把生命吐进了我的嘴唇里,于是我复活了,并且成为一个君王。唉!仅仅是爱的影子,已经给人这样丰富的欢乐,要是能占有爱的本身,那该有多么甜蜜!

鲍尔萨泽上。

罗密欧从维洛那来的消息!啊,鲍尔萨泽!不是神父叫你带信来给我吗?我的爱人怎样?我父亲好吗?我再问你一遍,我的朱丽叶安好吗?因为只要她安好,一定什么都是好好的。

鲍尔萨泽那么她是安好的,什么都是好好的;她的身体长眠在凯普莱特家的坟茔里,她的不死的灵魂和天使们在一起。我看见她下葬在她亲族的墓穴里,所以立刻飞马前来告诉您。啊,少爷!恕我带了这恶消息来,因为这是您吩咐我做的事。

罗密欧有这样的事!命运,我咒诅你!——你知道我的住处;给我买些纸笔,雇下两匹快马,我今天晚上就要动身。

鲍尔萨泽少爷,请您宽心一下;您的脸色惨白而仓皇,恐怕是不吉之兆。

罗密欧胡说,你看错了。快去,把我叫你做的事赶快办好。神父没有叫你带信给我吗?

鲍尔萨泽没有,我的好少爷。

罗密欧算了,你去吧,把马匹雇好了;我就来找你。(鲍尔萨泽下)好,朱丽叶,今晚我要睡在你的身旁。让我想个办法。啊,罪恶的念头!你会多么快钻进一个绝望者的心里!我想起了一个卖药的人,他的铺子就开设在附近,我曾经看见他穿着一身破烂的衣服,皱着眉头在那儿拣药草;他的形状十分消瘦,贫苦把他熬煎得只剩一把骨头;他的寒伧的铺子里挂着一只乌龟,一头剥制的鳄鱼,还有几张形状丑陋的鱼皮;他的架子上稀疏地散放着几只空匣子、绿色的瓦罐、一些胞囊和发霉的种子、几段包扎的麻绳,还有几块陈年的干玫瑰花,作为聊胜于无的点缀。看到这一种寒酸的样子,我就对自己说,在曼多亚城里,谁出卖了毒药是会立刻处死的,可是倘有谁现在需要毒药,这儿有一个可怜的奴才会卖给他。啊!不料我这一个思想,竟会预兆着我自己的需要,这个穷汉的毒药却要卖给我。我记得这里就是他的铺子;今天是假日,所以这叫化子没有开门。喂!卖药的!

卖药人上。

卖药人谁在高声叫喊?

罗密欧过来,朋友。我瞧你很穷,这儿是四十块钱,请你给我一点能够迅速致命的毒药,厌倦于生命的人一服下去便会散入全身的血管,立刻停止呼吸而死去,就像火药从炮膛里放射出去一样快。

卖药人这种致命的毒药我是有的;可是曼多亚的法律严禁发卖,出卖的人是要处死刑的。

罗密欧难道你这样穷苦,还怕死吗?饥寒的痕迹刻在你的面颊上,贫乏和迫害在你的眼睛里射出了饿火,轻蔑和卑贱重压在你的背上;这世间不是你的朋友,这世间的法律也保护不到你,没有人为你定下一条法律使你富有;那么你何必苦耐着贫穷呢?违犯了法律,把这些钱收下吧。

卖药人我的贫穷答应了你,可是那是违反我的良心的。

罗密欧我的钱是给你的贫穷,不是给你的良心的。

卖药人把这一服药放在无论什么饮料里喝下去,即使你有二十个人的气力,也会立刻送命。

罗密欧这儿是你的钱,那才是害人灵魂的更坏的毒药,在这万恶的世界上,它比你那些不准贩卖的微贱的药品更会杀人;你没有把毒药卖给我,是我把毒药卖给你。再见;买些吃的东西,把你自己喂得胖一点。——来,你不是毒药,你是替我解除痛苦的仙丹,我要带着你到朱丽叶的坟上去,少不得要借重你一下哩。(各下。)