ROMEO AND JULIET
ACT 5, SCENE 4
Enter BENVOLIO, alone.
BENVOLIO
I truly am alone[1].
The Montagues have counseled with their foe.
The citizens of our Verona live
And peace has cooled the fiery streets.
Even so, I am truly alone here.
Romeo and Mercutio are gone;
Paris and Tybalt and Juliet, too—
Though our acquaintance was small, to have dead
So many, so young is great and monstrous
A business. I know not what step comes now;
Hereto flew straight my course; my mind was sure.
My blood was not in me; it lay inside
The veins of my companions. I am like
The warrior, brave Achilles. The span
From Patroclus[2] is insurmountable,
The fields of Troy bathed red, but I care not
But for my dearest friends. Are they gone now?
Myself was Romeo, Mercutio.
Am I still to be Benvolio?
Without those dearest up next to my sides,
Am I one with the world? Have I too been
So banished, out far from earthly things,
And crying out in this loud silence here?
So they say of me, spelt with lack of mark,
Those vital letters now are buried deep.
Now what can I say? I know not, for words
Were not of my use: that of words belonged
To Romeo. Great and treacherous pain
Is there upon my heart; will I cut it?
This blade not sharpened; one of fine and sharp
The steel belonged to my Mercutio.
What have I now? My mingled blood was once
So brave, and gallant, strong and keen. But I,
Though I can try, am weak, and fear doth grasp
At tiny corners that from my heart bleed.
My sword and shield art stolen; I see now
The blackest hands of death, and I know not
To how I may regain my point[3]. It comes
To be that I am now alone. They are
Now gone. The road spread wide before mine eyes,
Doth prove my soul cowed. The songs of my heart
In esperance[4] cry; the war even now
Has been lost. O my dear friends! Hath you fled
Where I can follow? Nay, you leave me here
To water[5] this earth; now solitude is
Companion to these hands. Yet there I see
A light comes to mine eyes, and there you art;
Mercutio, and Romeo, both firm
Unwavering in my gaze. And as I see
Thy forms enshroud in ethereal a glow,
You beckon me, ‘Come’. I start to go forth
And one step fades the scene. ‘Tis not my time.
Therefore I must stay, though soft yearns my heart
To take me back thence; thereunto[6] our start.
Exit.
[1] This line is not in iambic pentameter to signify Benvolio’s feelings of separation and solitude.
[2] Referring to the story of Achilles and Patroclus in Greek mythology. He and Patroclus were brothers-in-arms (or according to some sources, lovers).
[3] Both the sharpened point of a sword, and the direction that one follows
[4] meaning expectation, and used as a watchword or battle cry in Shakespeare’s Henry IV.
[5] with tears
[6] to that [place/matter, etc.]
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