What Art Thou Drawn and Among These Heartless Hinds? Turn Thee Benvolio When Does Tybalt Die
Speeches (Lines) for Benvolio
in "Romeo and Juliet"
Total: 64
(Click to see in context)
ane
I,i,76
(stage directions). [Enter BENVOLIO]
Benvolio. Part, fools!
Put up your swords; you know non what you lot do.
2
I,1,82
Tybalt. What, art one thousand drawn amongst these heartless hinds?
Turn thee, Benvolio, await upon thy death.
Benvolio. I exercise merely go on the peace: put up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
3
I,1,127
Montague. Who prepare this ancient quarrel new abroach?
Speak, nephew, were y'all past 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 disobedience to my ears,
He swung most his head and cut the winds,
Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in contemptuousness:
While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,
Came more than and more than and fought on role and role,
Till the prince came, who parted either part.
4
I,i,139
Lady Montague. O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-24-hour interval?
Right glad I am he was non at this fray.
Benvolio. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun
Peer'd along the golden window of the east,
A troubled heed drave me to walk abroad;
Where, underneath the grove of sycamore
That w rooteth from the city'southward side,
Then early on walking did I see your son:
Towards him I made, but he was ware of me
And stole into the covert of the forest:
I, measuring his angel by my own,
That most are busied when they're nigh alone,
Pursued my humour not pursuing his,
And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
5
I,i,163
Montague. Many a forenoon hath he in that location 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 depict
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
Away from the light steals home my heavy son,
And individual in his chamber pens himself,
Shuts upwardly his windows, locks far daylight out
And makes himself an artificial nighttime:
Blackness and portentous must this humour prove,
Unless good counsel may the crusade remove.
Benvolio. My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
half dozen
I,ane,165
Montague. I neither know information technology nor can learn of him.
Benvolio. Have you importuned him past any ways?
7
I,1,177
(stage directions). [Enter ROMEO]
Benvolio. See, where he comes: so please you, stride aside;
I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.
8
I,1,182
(phase directions). [Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE]
Benvolio. Good-morrow, cousin.
9
I,1,184
Romeo. Is the day so young?
Benvolio. Simply new struck nine.
x
I,ane,187
Romeo. Ay me! pitiful hours seem long.
Was that my father that went hence and then fast?
Benvolio. Information technology was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
11
I,ane,189
Romeo. Not having that, which, having, makes them short.
Benvolio. In love?
12
I,1,191
Romeo. Out—
Benvolio. Of love?
13
I,ane,193
Romeo. Out of her favour, where I am in love.
Benvolio. Alas, that love, and so gentle in his view,
Should be and then tyrannous and rough in proof!
14
I,i,209
Romeo. Alas, that honey, whose view is muffled still,
Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!
Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was hither?
Still tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here's much to do with hate, only more with love.
Why, and then, O brawling honey! O loving hate!
O any matter, of aught first create!
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Mis-shapen anarchy of well-seeming forms!
Feather of pb, bright smoke, cold fire,
sick wellness!
All the same-waking sleep, that is non what information technology is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Dost thou not laugh?
Benvolio. No, coz, I rather cry.
xv
I,1,211
Romeo. Good center, at what?
Benvolio. At thy good centre's oppression.
xvi
I,1,223
Romeo. Why, such is love's transgression.
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
Which one thousand wilt propagate, to accept it prest
With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Honey is a fume raised with the fume of sighs;
Beingness purged, a burn down sparkling in lovers' eyes;
Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:
What is it else? a madness most unimposing,
A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
Bye, my coz.
Benvolio. Soft! I volition go along;
An if you lot leave me and then, you do me incorrect.
17
I,1,227
Romeo. Tut, I take 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.
18
I,ane,229
Romeo. What, shall I groan and tell thee?
Benvolio. Groan! why, no.
But sadly tell me who.
19
I,1,234
Romeo. Bid a sick homo in sadness brand his will:
Ah, discussion ill urged to ane that is so ill!
In sadness, cousin, I practise beloved a adult female.
Benvolio. I aim'd so about, when I supposed yous loved.
20
I,1,236
Romeo. A right expert mark-homo! And she'due south fair I love.
Benvolio. A right fair marking, off-white coz, is soonest hit.
21
I,1,246
Romeo. Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be striking
With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit;
And, in strong proof of guiltlessness well arm'd,
From honey'southward weak kittenish bow she lives unharm'd.
She volition non stay the siege of loving terms,
Nor abide the run across of assailing eyes,
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gilded:
O, she is rich in beauty, just poor,
That when she dies with dazzler dies her store.
Benvolio. Then she hath sworn that she will all the same live chaste?
22
I,1,254
Romeo. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste,
For dazzler starved with her severity
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
She is as well fair, likewise wise, wisely too fair,
To merit bliss by making me despair:
She hath forsworn to dearest, and in that vow
Do I live expressionless that live to tell it now.
Benvolio. Exist ruled by me, forget to recollect of her.
23
I,1,256
Romeo. O, teach me how I should forget to think.
Benvolio. By giving freedom unto thine optics;
Examine other beauties.
24
I,1,268
Romeo. 'Tis the style
To call hers exquisite, in question more:
These happy masks that osculation off-white ladies' brows
Existence black put us in mind they hibernate 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 notation
Where I may read who laissez passer'd that passing fair?
Goodbye: 1000 canst not teach me to forget.
Benvolio. I'll pay that doctrine, or else dice in debt.
25
I,ii,319
(stage directions). [Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO]
Benvolio. Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning,
One pain is lessen'd past another'due south anguish;
Turn featherbrained, 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.
26
I,2,326
Romeo. Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that.
Benvolio. For what, I pray thee?
27
I,2,328
Romeo. For your broken shin.
Benvolio. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
28
I,ii,359
(stage directions). [Exit]
Benvolio. At this aforementioned ancient feast of Capulet'due south
Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest,
With all the admired beauties of Verona:
Go thither; and, with unattainted center,
Compare her confront with some that I shall show,
And I volition make thee think thy swan a crow.
29
I,2,371
Romeo. When the devout faith of mine heart
Maintains such falsehood, so turn tears to fires;
And these, who often drown'd could never dice,
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!
1 fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun
Ne'er saw her match since commencement the world begun.
Benvolio. Tut, you lot saw her fair, none else existence past,
Herself poised with herself in either eye:
But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd
Your lady's love against another maid
That I volition testify yous shining at this banquet,
And she shall scant show well that now shows all-time.
30
I,4,499
Romeo. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
Or shall nosotros on without a apology?
Benvolio. The engagement is out of such prolixity:
We'll accept no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,
Begetting a Tartar'due south painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;
Nor no without-volume prologue, faintly spoke
Later on the prompter, for our entrance:
But allow them measure out united states by what they will;
We'll measure them a measure, and exist gone.
31
I,four,529
Mercutio. If love exist crude with you, be crude with dearest;
Prick beloved for pricking, and you beat love down.
Requite me a instance to put my visage in:
A visor for a visor! what care I
What curious center doth quote deformities?
Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.
Benvolio. Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in,
Merely every man betake him to his legs.
32
I,4,606
Mercutio. True, I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of zip but vain fantasy,
Which is as thin of substance as the air
And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
Even at present the frozen bust of the due north,
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
Turning his confront to the dew-dropping southward.
Benvolio. This wind, you talk of, blows usa from ourselves;
Supper is done, and we shall come as well tardily.
33
I,4,616
Romeo. I fear, too early: for my mind misgives
Some upshot still hanging in the stars
Shall bitterly begin his fearful engagement
With this night's revels and expire the term
Of a despised life closed in my chest
By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
But He, that hath the steerage of my course,
Direct my sail! On, brawny gentlemen.
Benvolio. Strike, drum.
34
I,v,748
Romeo. Is she a Capulet?
O honey account! my life is my foe'south debt.
Benvolio. Away, begone; the sport is at the all-time.
35
II,i,800
(stage directions). [Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO]
Benvolio. Romeo! my cousin Romeo!
36
Ii,1,803
Mercutio. He is wise;
And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed.
Benvolio. He ran this mode, and leap'd this orchard wall:
Phone call, proficient Mercutio.
37
II,i,821
Mercutio. Nay, I'll conjure likewise.
Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
Appear chiliad in the likeness of a sigh:
Speak merely i rhyme, and I am satisfied;
Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;'
Speak to my gossip Venus one fair give-and-take,
One nick-name for her purblind son and heir,
Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,
When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;
The ape is expressionless, and I must conjure him.
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
By her fine foot, directly leg and quivering thigh
And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
That in thy likeness chiliad appear to us!
Benvolio. And if he hear thee, thou wilt acrimony him.
38
II,1,829
Mercutio. This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him
To raise a spirit in his mistress' circumvolve
Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
Till she had laid it and conjured it downwardly;
That were some spite: my invocation
Is fair and honest, and in his mistress' name
I conjure merely only to enhance upwards him.
Benvolio. Come, he hath hid himself amidst these trees,
To be consorted with the humorous night:
Bullheaded is his love and best befits the dark.
39
2,1,841
Mercutio. If beloved be blind, love cannot hitting the mark.
Now will he sit down nether a medlar tree,
And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
As maids call medlars, when they express joy lone.
Romeo, that she were, O, that she were
An open et caetera, 1000 a poperin pear!
Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed;
This field-bed is as well common cold for me to sleep:
Come, shall we get?
Benvolio. Go, and then; for 'tis in vain
To seek him here that means non to be found.
40
II,4,1161
Mercutio. Where the devil should this Romeo be?
Came he not habitation to-nighttime?
Benvolio. Not to his male parent's; I spoke with his man.
41
II,4,1164
Mercutio. Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline.
Torments him so, that he will certain run mad.
Benvolio. Tybalt, the kinsman of erstwhile Capulet,
Hath sent a alphabetic character to his begetter's business firm.
42
2,iv,1167
Mercutio. A challenge, on my life.
Benvolio. Romeo volition answer it.
43
Ii,four,1169
Mercutio. Any man that can write may answer a alphabetic character.
Benvolio. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he
dares, being dared.
44
II,four,1176
Mercutio. Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a
white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a
love-song; the very pivot of his eye cleft with the
blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to
see Tybalt?
Benvolio. Why, what is Tybalt?
45
Two,4,1186
Mercutio. More than than prince of cats, I can tell you lot. O, he is
the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as
you sing prick-song, 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 admirer of the
very first house, of the commencement and second cause:
ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the
hai!
Benvolio. The what?
46
II,4,1197
(stage directions). [Enter ROMEO]
Benvolio. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.
47
Two,four,1248
Mercutio. Why, is not this better now than groaning for dear?
now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art
thou what thousand art, by fine art besides as by nature:
for this drivelling beloved is like a peachy natural,
that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a pigsty.
Benvolio. Stop at that place, terminate there.
48
II,four,1250
Mercutio. 1000 desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.
Benvolio. Thou wouldst else have made thy tale big.
49
II,4,1257
Mercutio. A canvas, a canvas!
Benvolio. Two, ii; a shirt and a smock.
50
II,4,1282
Nurse. if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with
you.
Benvolio. She volition indite him to some supper.
51
III,i,1499
(stage directions). [Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Folio, and Servants]
Benvolio. I pray thee, good Mercutio, allow'south retire:
The mean solar day is hot, the Capulets away,
And, if we run across, we shall not scape a brawl;
For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
52
III,1,1508
Mercutio. Chiliad art like one of those fellows that when he
enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword
upon the table and says 'God send me no need of
thee!' and by the performance of the second cup draws
it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.
Benvolio. Am I like such a boyfriend?
53
III,1,1512
Mercutio. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood equally
any in Italy, and equally shortly moved to be moody, and equally
soon moody to be moved.
Benvolio. And what to?
54
III,i,1529
Mercutio. Nay, an there were two such, nosotros should accept none
shortly, for 1 would impale the other. Thou! why,
thou wilt quarrel with a human that hath a hair more than,
or a hair less, in his beard, than yard hast: thou
wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no
other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes: what
centre but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel?
Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of
meat, and yet thy caput hath been beaten as addle as
an egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with a
human for coughing in the street, because he hath
wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun:
didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing
his new doublet before Easter? with another, for
tying his new shoes with old riband? and nevertheless thou
wilt tutor me from quarrelling!
Benvolio. An I were and then apt to quarrel as grand fine art, any man
should buy the fee-unproblematic of my life for an hour and a quarter.
55
Iii,one,1532
Mercutio. The fee-unproblematic! O simple!
Benvolio. By my head, here come the Capulets.
56
III,1,1547
Mercutio. Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? an
1000 make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing merely
discords: hither's my fiddlestick; here's that shall
make you lot dance. 'Zounds, espoused!
Benvolio. Nosotros talk here in the public haunt of men:
Either withdraw unto some private identify,
And reason coldly of your grievances,
Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on usa.
57
Iii,1,1596
Mercutio. I am hurt.
A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.
Is he gone, and hath cipher?
Benvolio. What, fine art one thousand hurt?
58
III,1,1624
(phase directions). [Re-enter BENVOLIO]
Benvolio. O Romeo, Romeo, dauntless Mercutio'due south dead!
That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds,
Which too untimely hither did scorn the world.
59
III,1,1629
Romeo. This day'south black fate on more days doth depend;
This only begins the woe, others must end.
Benvolio. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
lx
III,1,1643
(stage directions). [They fight; TYBALT falls]
Benvolio. Romeo, abroad, exist gone!
The citizens are upwardly, and Tybalt slain.
Stand non amazed: the prince will doom thee expiry,
If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away!
61
III,1,1648
Romeo. O, I am fortune's fool!
Benvolio. Why dost one thousand stay?
62
Iii,i,1653
Get-go Denizen. Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?
Tybalt, that murderer, which fashion ran he?
Benvolio. There lies that Tybalt.
63
Three,1,1659
Prince Escalus. Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
Benvolio. O noble prince, I tin can discover all
The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:
There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
64
III,1,1669
Prince Escalus. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
Benvolio. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay;
Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink
How overnice the quarrel was, and urged withal
Your high displeasure: all this uttered
With gentle jiff, calm expect, knees humbly bow'd,
Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts
With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's chest,
Who all as hot, turns deadly betoken to bespeak,
And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats
Common cold death bated, and with the other sends
It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity,
Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,
'Agree, friends! friends, office!' and, swifter than
his tongue,
His agile arm beats down their fatal points,
And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm
An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life
Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled;
Just by and past comes dorsum to Romeo,
Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
And to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I
Could describe to role them, was stout Tybalt slain.
And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly.
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
0 Response to "What Art Thou Drawn and Among These Heartless Hinds? Turn Thee Benvolio When Does Tybalt Die"
ارسال یک نظر