Speeches (Lines) for Benvolio in "Romeo and Juliet"
Total: 64
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Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context) |
Speech text |
1 |
I,1,76 |
Part, fools!
Put up your swords; you know not what you do.
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2 |
I,1,82 |
I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
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3 |
I,1,127 |
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.
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4 |
I,1,139 |
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.
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5 |
I,1,163 |
My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
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6 |
I,1,165 |
Have you importuned him by any means?
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7 |
I,1,177 |
See, where he comes: so please you, step aside;
I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.
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8 |
I,1,182 |
Good-morrow, cousin.
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9 |
I,1,184 |
But new struck nine.
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10 |
I,1,187 |
It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
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11 |
I,1,189 |
In love?
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12 |
I,1,191 |
Of love?
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13 |
I,1,193 |
Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
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14 |
I,1,209 |
No, coz, I rather weep.
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15 |
I,1,211 |
At thy good heart's oppression.
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16 |
I,1,223 |
Soft! I will go along;
An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
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17 |
I,1,227 |
Tell me in sadness, who is that you love.
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18 |
I,1,229 |
Groan! why, no.
But sadly tell me who.
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19 |
I,1,234 |
I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved.
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20 |
I,1,236 |
A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
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21 |
I,1,246 |
Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
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22 |
I,1,254 |
Be ruled by me, forget to think of her.
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23 |
I,1,256 |
By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
Examine other beauties.
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24 |
I,1,268 |
I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
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25 |
I,2,319 |
Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning,
One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish;
Turn giddy, 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.
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26 |
I,2,326 |
For what, I pray thee?
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27 |
I,2,328 |
Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
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28 |
I,2,359 |
At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest,
With all the admired beauties of Verona:
Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,
Compare her face with some that I shall show,
And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
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29 |
I,2,371 |
Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by,
Herself poised with herself in either eye:
But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd
Your lady's love against some other maid
That I will show you shining at this feast,
And she shall scant show well that now shows best.
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30 |
I,4,499 |
The date is out of such prolixity:
We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,
Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
After the prompter, for our entrance:
But let them measure us by what they will;
We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.
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31 |
I,4,529 |
Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in,
But every man betake him to his legs.
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32 |
I,4,606 |
This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves;
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
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33 |
I,4,616 |
Strike, drum.
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34 |
I,5,748 |
Away, begone; the sport is at the best.
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35 |
II,1,800 |
Romeo! my cousin Romeo!
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36 |
II,1,803 |
He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall:
Call, good Mercutio.
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37 |
II,1,821 |
And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
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38 |
II,1,829 |
Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,
To be consorted with the humorous night:
Blind is his love and best befits the dark.
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39 |
II,1,841 |
Go, then; for 'tis in vain
To seek him here that means not to be found.
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40 |
II,4,1161 |
Not to his father's; I spoke with his man.
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41 |
II,4,1164 |
Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet,
Hath sent a letter to his father's house.
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42 |
II,4,1167 |
Romeo will answer it.
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43 |
II,4,1169 |
Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he
dares, being dared.
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44 |
II,4,1176 |
Why, what is Tybalt?
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45 |
II,4,1186 |
The what?
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46 |
II,4,1197 |
Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.
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47 |
II,4,1248 |
Stop there, stop there.
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48 |
II,4,1250 |
Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.
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49 |
II,4,1257 |
Two, two; a shirt and a smock.
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50 |
II,4,1282 |
She will indite him to some supper.
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51 |
III,1,1499 |
I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire:
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl;
For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
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52 |
III,1,1508 |
Am I like such a fellow?
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53 |
III,1,1512 |
And what to?
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54 |
III,1,1529 |
An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man
should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.
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55 |
III,1,1532 |
By my head, here come the Capulets.
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56 |
III,1,1547 |
We talk here in the public haunt of men:
Either withdraw unto some private place,
And reason coldly of your grievances,
Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.
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57 |
III,1,1596 |
What, art thou hurt?
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58 |
III,1,1624 |
O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!
That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
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59 |
III,1,1629 |
Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
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60 |
III,1,1643 |
Romeo, away, be gone!
The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.
Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death,
If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away!
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61 |
III,1,1648 |
Why dost thou stay?
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62 |
III,1,1653 |
There lies that Tybalt.
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63 |
III,1,1659 |
O noble prince, I can discover all
The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:
There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
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64 |
III,1,1669 |
Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay;
Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal
Your high displeasure: all this uttered
With gentle breath, calm look, 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 breast,
Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point,
And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats
Cold death aside, and with the other sends
It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity,
Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,
'Hold, friends! friends, part!' 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;
But by and by comes back to Romeo,
Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
And to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I
Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain.
And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly.
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
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