Romeo and Juliet Hörbuch

William Shakespeare

• Herausgeber: Ардис
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Zeit:4 Std. 1 min

Sprecher:Adam Muskin

Beschreibung

The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, often shortened to Romeo and Juliet, is a tragedy written by William Shakespeare early in his career about the romance between two Italian youths from feuding families. It was among Shakespeare's most popular plays during his lifetime and, along with Hamlet, is one of his most frequently performed. Today, the title characters are regarded as archetypal young lovers. Romeo and Juliet belongs to a tradition of tragic romances stretching back to antiquity. The plot is based on an Italian tale written by Matteo Bandello and translated into verse as The Tragical History of Romeus and Juliet by Arthur Brooke in 1562 and retold in prose in Palace of Pleasure by William Painter in 1567. Shakespeare borrowed heavily from both but expanded the plot by developing a number of supporting characters, in particular Mercutio and Paris. Believed to have been written between 1591 and 1595, the play was first published in a quarto version in 1597. The text of the first quarto version was of poor quality, however, and later editions corrected the text to conform more closely with Shakespeare's original.

Leseprobe

Romeo andJuliet

ILLUSTRATED & PUBLISHED

BY

SEVEN BOOKS

Copyright, 2024

Aydın

Contact:

[email protected]

ISBN:978-368-9958-20-6

© All rights reserved. No part of this book shell be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or by any information or retrieval system, without written permission form the publisher.

CONTENTS:

About Book & Author:

Act I

Prologue

SCENE I. Verona. A public place.

SCENE II. A street.

SCENE III. A room in Capulet's house.

SCENE IV. A street.

SCENE V. A hall in Capulet's house.

Act II

Prologue

SCENE I. A lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard.

SCENE II. Capulet's orchard.

SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell.

SCENE IV. A street.

SCENE V. Capulet's orchard.

SCENE VI. Friar Laurence's cell.

Act III

SCENE I. A public place.

SCENE II. Capulet's orchard.

SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell.

SCENE IV. A room in Capulet's house.

SCENE V. Capulet's orchard.

Act IV

SCENE I. Friar Laurence's cell.

SCENE II. Hall in Capulet's house.

SCENE III. Juliet's chamber.

SCENE IV. Hall in Capulet's house.

SCENE V. Juliet's chamber.

Act V

SCENE I. Mantua. A street.

SCENE II. Friar Laurence's cell.

SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets.

* * *

About Book & Author:

William Shakespeare (1564 –1616) was an English poet and playwright, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist. He is often called England's national poet and the "Bard of Avon" (or simply "The Bard"). His surviving works consist of 38 plays, 154 sonnets, two long narrative poems, and several other poems. His plays have been translated into every major living language, and are performed more often than those of any other playwright. Shakespeare was born and raised in Stratford-upon-Avon. At the age of 18 he married Anne Hathaway, who bore him three children: Susanna, and twins Hamnet and Judith. Between 1585 and 1592 he began a successful career in London as an actor, writer, and part owner of the playing company the Lord Chamberlain's Men, later known as the King's Men.

He appears to have retired to Stratford around 1613, where he died three years later. Few records of Shakespeare's private life survive, and there has been considerable speculation about such matters as his sexuality, religious beliefs, and whether the works attributed to him were written by others. Shakespeare produced most of his known work between 1590 and 1613. His early plays were mainly comedies and histories, genres he raised to the peak of sophistication and artistry by the end of the sixteenth century. Next he wrote mainly tragedies until about 1608, including Hamlet, King Lear, and Macbeth, considered some of the finest examples in the English language. In his last phase, he wrote tragicomedies, also known as romances, and collaborated with other playwrights.

Many of his plays were published in editions of varying quality and accuracy during his lifetime, and in 1623 two of his former theatrical colleagues published the First Folio, a collected edition of his dramatic works that included all but two of the plays now recognised as Shakespeare's. Shakespeare was a respected poet and playwright in his own day, but his reputation did not rise to its present heights until the nineteenth century. The Romantics, in particular, acclaimed Shakespeare's genius, and the Victorians hero-worshipped Shakespeare with a reverence that George Bernard Shaw called "bardolatry". In the twentieth century, his work was repeatedly adopted and rediscovered by new movements in scholarship and performance. His plays remain highly popular today and are consistently performed and reinterpreted in diverse cultural and political contexts throughout the world.

“Romeo and Juliet” is a tragic play written early in the career of William Shakespeare about two teenage "star-cross'd lovers" whose untimely deaths ultimately unite their feuding households. It was among Shakespeare's most popular plays during his lifetime and, along with Hamlet, is one of his most frequently performed plays. Today, the title characters are regarded as archetypal "young lovers"

Some Books of Shakespeare:

Romeo and Juliet (1597)

Hamlet (1599)

Macbeth (1606)

Julius Caesar (1599)

Othello (1603)

The Merchant of Venice (1598)

Much Ado About Nothing (1600)

King Lear (1606)

The Taming of the Shrew (1594)

The Comedy of Errors (1594)

Act I

§

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 foesA pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;Whole misadventured piteous overthrowsDo 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 willtake the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. 

GREGORY

That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goesto the wall. 

SAMPSON

True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels,are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will pushMontague's men from the wall, and thrust his maidsto the wall. 

GREGORY

The quarrel is between our masters and us their men. 

SAMPSON

'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when Ihave fought with the men, I will be cruel with themaids, 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, thouhadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comestwo 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 asthey 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 sayay? 

GREGORY

No. 

SAMPSON

No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but Ibite 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 rageWith purple fountains issuing from your veins,On pain of torture, from those bloody handsThrow 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 citizensCast 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 cameThe 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 sunPeer'd forth the golden window of the east,A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;Where, underneath the grove of sycamoreThat westward rooteth from the city's side,So early walking did I see your son:Towards him I made, but he was ware of meAnd 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 sunShould in the furthest east begin to drawThe 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 outAnd 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 prestWith more of thine: this love that thou hast shownDoth 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 hitWith 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 severityCuts 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 vowDo I live dead that live to tell it now. 

BENVOLIO

Be ruled by me, forget to think of her. 

ROMEO