Romeo and Juliet

Synopsis: Shakespeare's classic tale of romance and tragedy. Two families of Verona, the Montagues and the Capulets, have been feuding with each other for years. Young Romeo Montague goes out with his friends to make trouble at a party the Capulets are hosting, but while there he spies the Capulet's daughter Juliet, and falls hopelessly in love with her. She returns his affections, but they both know that their families will never allow them to follow their hearts.
Genre: Drama, Romance
Director(s): Franco Zeffirelli
Production: Paramount Home Video
  Won 2 Oscars. Another 14 wins & 15 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.6
Rotten Tomatoes:
94%
PG
Year:
1968
138 min
13,569 Views


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 foes

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

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 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 will

take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.

GREGORY:

That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes

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.

GREGORY:

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.

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, thou

hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes

two 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 as

they 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 say

ay?

GREGORY:

No.

SAMPSON:

No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I

bite 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 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,

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 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.

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 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.

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.

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

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"Romeo and Juliet" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 4 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/romeo_and_juliet_97>.

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