莎剧选段ROMEO AND JULIETTwo 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;Whose 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.TITUS ANDRONICUSFlourish. Enter the tribunes and senators; and then SATURNINUS and his followers at onedoor, and BASSIANUS and his followers at the otherSATURNINUSNoble patricians, patrons of my right,Defend the justice of my cause with arms.And, countrymen, my loving followers,Plead my successive title with your swords.I am his first-born son that was the lastThat wore the imperial diadem of Rome;Then let my father’s honours live in me,Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.BASSIANUSRomans, friends, followers, favourers of my right,If ever Bassianus, Caesar’s son,Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,Keep then this passage to the Capitol,And suffer not dishonour to approachThe Imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,To justice, continence, and nobility;But let desert in pure election shine,And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.WINTER’S TALELEONTESTo your own bents dispose you: you’ll be found,Be you beneath the sky.— I am angling now, AsideThough you perceive me not how I give line.Go to, go to!How she holds up the neb, the bill to him!And arms her with the boldness of a wifeTo her allowing husband![Exeunt Polixenes, Hermione and Attendants]Gone already?Inch-thick, knee-deep, o’er head and ears a forked one!—Go, play, boy, play. Thy mother plays, and IPlay too, but so disgraced a part, whose issueWill hiss me to my grave. Contempt and clamourWill be my knell. Go play, boy, play.— There have been,Or I am much deceived, cuckolds ere now.And many a man there is, even at this present,Now while I speak this, holds his wife by th’arm,That little thinks she has been sluiced in’s absenceAnd his pond fished by his next neighbour, bySir Smile, his neighbour. Nay, there’s comfort in’tWhiles other men have gates and those gates opened,As mine, against their will. Should all despairThat have revolted wives, the tenth of mankindWould hang themselves. Physic for’t there’s none:It is a bawdy planet, that will strikeWhere ’tis predominant; and ’tis powerful, think it,From east, west, north and south. Be it concluded,No barricado for a belly. Know’t,It will let in and out the enemyWith bag and baggage. Many thousand on’sHave the disease, and feel’t not.— How now, boy?