Scene V

Juliet's Chamber.

[Enter Romeo and Juliet aloft, at the Window.]

JUL:

Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day.
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear.
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree.
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.(5)

JUL:

Are you going? It’s not morning yet.
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That you heard;
Nightly she sings on that pomegranate tree.
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

ROM:

It was the lark, the herald of the morn;
No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder East.
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.(10)
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

ROM:

It was the lark, the messenger that says it’s morning,
No nightingale. Look, love, what jealous streaks of sunlight
Lace the parting clouds over there in the east.
Night's candles are burned out, and the joyful day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
I have to go and live, or stay and die.

JUL:

Yon light is not daylight; I know it, I.
It is some meteor that the sun exhales
To be to thee this night a torchbearer
And light thee on thy way to Mantua.(15)
Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone.

JUL:

That light is not daylight, I just know it.
It is some meteor that the sun spits out
To be a torch-bearer for you tonight
And light your way to Mantua.
Therefore stay a bit longer, you don’t need to go.

ROM:

Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death.
I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye,
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;(20)
Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat
The vaulty heaven so high above our heads.
I have more care to stay than will to go.
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.
How is't, my soul? Let's talk; it is not day.(25)

ROM:

Let me be taken prisoner, let me be put to death;
I am content, so you will have it so.
I'll say that that gray streak is not the morning sun,
It’s only the pale reflection of Cynthia's brow;
And that’s not the lark whose notes hit
The high ceiling of heaven so high above our heads.
I have more care to stay than will to go.
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.
How is it, my soul? Let's talk. It is not day.

JUL:

It is, it is! Hie hence, be gone, away!
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.
Some say the lark makes sweet division;
This doth not so, for she divideth us.(30)
Some say the lark and loathed toad changed eyes;
O, now I would they had chang'd voices too,
Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day!
O, now be gone! More light and light it grows.(35)

JUL:

It is, it is! Go quickly! Get going! Leave!
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Straining to sing horrible songs and unpleasing notes.
Some say the lark makes sweet division in its songs;
This isn’t true, because she divides us.
Some say the lark and hated toad change eyes;
O, now I wish that they had changed voices too!
Since that military voice frightens us,
They’ll be hunting you here with an early morning song today.
O, now get going; it’s getting lighter and lighter.

ROM:

More light and light—more dark and dark our woes!

ROM:

Lighter and lighter, darker and darker our sorrows!

Enter Nurse.

NURSE:

Madam!

NURSE:

Madam!

JUL:

Nurse?

JUL:

Nurse?

NURSE:

Your lady mother is coming to your chamber.
The day is broke; be wary, look about.(40)

Exit Nurse.

NURSE:

Your lady mother is coming to your bedroom.
It’s morning. Be careful. Look around you.

JUL:

Then, window, let day in, and let life out.

JUL:

Then, window, let day in, and let life out.

ROM:

Farewell, farewell! One kiss, and I'll descend.

ROM:

Farewell, farewell! Just give me one more kiss, and I'll climb down.

He goeth down.

JUL:

Art thou gone so, my lord, my love, my friend?
I must hear from thee every day in the hour,
For in a minute there are many days.(45)
O, by this count I shall be much in years
Ere I again behold my Romeo!

JUL:

Are you going so soon? My lord, my love, my friend!
I must hear from you every hour of the day,
Because there are many days in just one minute.
O, by this count I’ll be very old
Before I see my Romeo again!

ROM:

Farewell! I will omit no opportunity
That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.

ROM:

Farewell!
I won’t miss a chance
To send you my greetings, love.

JUL:

O, think'st thou we shall ever meet again?(50)

JUL:

O, do you think we shall ever meet again?

ROM:

I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve
For sweet discourses in our time to come.

ROM:

I don’t doubt it, and all these sorrows shall
Become sweet memories that we can talk about in our future.

JUL:

O God, I have an ill-divining soul!
Methinks I see thee, now thou art below,
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb.(55)
Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.

JUL:

O God! I have a soul that predicts bad things!
I think I see you, now you are below me,
Looking like someone dead in the bottom of a tomb.
Either my eyesight fails, or you look pale.

ROM:

And trust me, love, in my eye so do you.
Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!

Exit.

ROM:

And trust me, love, in my eyes, so do you.
Thirsty sorrow drinks our blood. Goodbye! Goodbye!

JUL:

O Fortune, Fortune! all men call thee fickle.
If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him(60)
That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, Fortune,
For then I hope thou wilt not keep him long
But send him back.

JUL:

O Lady Luck! all men say you are changeable.
If you are so fickle, what do you want with a guy
Who is known for his faith? Be changeable, Luck,
Because then, I hope, you won’t keep him long,
But send him back to me.

LADY:

Within.

Ho, daughter! are you up?

LADY:

Hey, daughter! Are you up?

JUL:

Who is't that calls? It is my lady mother.(65)
Is she not down so late, or up so early?
What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?

JUL:

Who’s calling me? Is it my lady mother?
Isn’t she down so late, or up so early?
What unusual reason brings her here?

Enter Lady Capulet.

LADY:

Why, how now, Juliet?

LADY:

Why, how are you, Juliet?

JUL:

Madam, I am not well.

JUL:

Madam, I am not well.

LADY:

Evermore weeping for your cousin's death?(70)
What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?
An if thou could'st, thou could'st not make him live.
Therefore have done. Some grief shows much of love;
But much of grief shows still some want of wit.

LADY:

Endless weeping for your cousin's death?
What, will you wash him from his grave with tears?
And if you could, you couldn’t bring him back to life.
Therefore, stop grieving. A little grief shows much love;
But too much of grief shows a little craziness.

JUL:

Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.(75)

JUL:

Let me weep for feeling such a loss.

LADY:

So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend
Which you weep for.

LADY:

You’ll feel the loss, but not the loss of the friend
You weep for.

JUL:

Feeling so the loss,
I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.

JUL:

Feeling the loss so much,
I can’t help but weep for the friend forever.

LADY:

Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death(80)
As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.

LADY:

Well, girl, you are weeping not so much for his death
As for the villain who lives who slaughtered him.

JUL:

What villain, madam?

JUL:

What villain, madam?

LADY:

That same villain Romeo.

LADY:

That same villain Romeo.

JUL:

Aside.

Villain and he be many miles asunder.
God pardon him! I do, with all my heart;(85)
And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.

JUL:

The words “Villain” and his name are many miles apart.
God pardon him! I pardon him, with all my heart;
And yet no man like him makes my heart so sad.

LADY:

That is because the traitor murderer lives.

LADY:

That is because the traitor murderer lives.

JUL:

Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands.
Would none but I might venge my cousin's death!

JUL:

Yes, madam, from the reach of my hands.
I wish that no one but me might avenge my cousin's death!

LADY:

We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not.(90)
Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,
Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,
Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram
That he shall soon keep Tybalt company;
And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied.(95)

LADY:

We will have vengeance for it, don’t worry about that.
So stop crying. I'll send a messenger to someone in Mantua,
Where that same banished runaway lives,
And he shall give him such an unusual vial of medicine
That he will soon keep Tybalt company,
And then I hope you’ll be satisfied.

JUL:

Indeed I never shall be satisfied
With Romeo till I behold him— dead —
Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vex'd.
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To bear a poison, I would temper it;(100)
That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors
To hear him nam'd and cannot come to him,
To wreak the love I bore my cousin Tybalt
Upon his body that hath slaughter'd him!(105)

JUL:

Indeed I’ll never be satisfied
With Romeo till I see him dead.
My poor heart is so aggravated for a kinsman,
Madam, that if you could only find a man
To bear a poison, I would help to mix it,
So that Romeo should, when he gets it,
Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart hates
To hear his name, and I can’t present myself to him,
To vent the love I had for my cousin Tybalt
Upon the body of the man that has slaughtered him!

LADY:

Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man.
But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.

LADY:

You find the means, and I'll find such a man.
But now I have joyful new for you, girl.

JUL:

And joy comes well in such a needy time.
What are they, I beseech your ladyship?

JUL:

And joy is welcomed in such a needy time.
What is it, I beg your ladyship?

LADY:

Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child;(110)
One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy
That thou expects not, nor I look'd not for.

LADY:

Well, well, you have a careful father, child;
One who, to put you past all this grief,
Has sorted out a surprise happy day
That you hadn’t expected, and I hadn’t looked for.

JUL:

Madam, in happy time! What day is that?

JUL:

Madam, in happy time, what day is that?

LADY:

Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn(115)
The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church,
Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.

LADY:

By Mary, my child, early next Thursday morning,
The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
The Count Paris, at St. Peter's Church,
Shall happily make you there a joyful bride.

JUL:

Now by Saint Peter's Church, and Peter too,
He shall not make me there a joyful bride!(120)
I wonder at this haste, that I must wed
Ere he that should be husband comes to woo.
I pray you tell my lord and father, madam,
I will not marry yet; and when I do, I swear
It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,(125)
Rather than Paris. These are news indeed!

JUL:

Now by Saint Peter's Church, and Peter too,
He shall not “make me there a joyful bride!”
What’s the rush that I must wed
Before a husband-to-be comes to court me?
Please tell my lord and father, madam,
I will not marry yet. And when I do, I swear
It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
Rather than Paris. This is news indeed!

LADY:

Here comes your father. Tell him so yourself,
And see how he will take it at your hands.

LADY:

Here comes your father. Tell him so yourself,
And see how he will take it from you.

Enter Capulet and Nurse.

CAP:

When the sun sets the air doth drizzle dew,
But for the sunset of my brother's son(130)
It rains downright.
How now? a conduit, girl? What, still in tears?
Evermore show'ring? In one little body
Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind:
For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,(135)
Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is
Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs,
Who, raging with thy tears and they with them,
Without a sudden calm will overset
Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife?(140)
Have you delivered to her our decree?

CAP:

When the sun sets, the air drizzles dew,
But for the funeral of my brother's son
It pours rain.
What’s going on? Still a fountain, girl? What, still in tears?
Forever showering? In one little body,
You look like a ship, a sea, a wind, all in one,
Because your eyes, which I may call the sea,
Ebb and flow with a tide of tears. Your body is the ship,
Sailing in this salt flood, the winds, your sighs.
You, raging with your tears and they with the ship, sea, and wind,
Without a sudden calm, will overturn
Your tempest-tossed body. What’s going on, wife!
Have you told her what we have decided for her?

LADY:

Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks.
I would the fool were married to her grave!

LADY:

Yes, sir; but she won’t have it. She gives you thanks.
I wish the foolish girl were married to her grave!

CAP:

Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife.
How? Will she none? Doth she not give us thanks?(145)
Is she not proud? Doth she not count her blest,
Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?

CAP:

What! Catch me, catch me, wife.
What do you mean “she won’t have it?” Doesn’t she give us thanks?
Isn’t she proud? Doesn’t she count her blessings that
Unworthy as she is, we have secured
So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?

JUL:

Not proud you have, but thankful that you have.
Proud can I never be of what I hate,(150)
But thankful even for hate that is meant love.

JUL:

I’m not proud that you have, but I’m thankful that you have.
I can never be proud of what I hate,
But I can be thankful even for hate that is meant to be love.

CAP:

How, how, how, how, choplogic? What is this?
‘Proud’—and ‘I thank you’—and ‘I thank you not’—
And yet ‘not proud’? Mistress minion you,
Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,(155)
But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next
To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church,
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
Out, you green-sickness carrion! Out, you baggage!
You tallow-face!(160)

CAP:

So that’s how it is now, arguing with choppy reasoning? What is this?
”Proud,” and, “I thank you,” and “I thank you not,”
And yet “not proud?” Mistress Darling, you --
Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,
But get your fine joints ready for next Thursday
To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church,
Or I will drag you there on a cart made for traitors going to execution.
Get out, you green, diseased dead meat! Out, you bag of garbage!
You pale, ugly face!

LADY:

Fie, fie! what, are you mad?

LADY:

For shame, for shame! What, are you crazy?

JUL:

Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
Hear me with patience but to speak a word.

JUL:

Good father, I beg you on my knees,
To listen to me with patience. I only want to speak a word.

CAP:

Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!
I tell thee what—get thee to church a Thursday(165)
Or never after look me in the face.
Speak not, reply not, do not answer me!
My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest
That God had lent us but this only child;
But now I see this one is one too much,(170)
And that we have a curse in having her.
Out on her, hilding!

CAP:

I’ll see you hang first, young filth! Disobedient wretch!
I’ll tell you what. Get yourself to church on Thursday,
Or never, after that, look me in the face.
Don’t speak, don’t reply, don’t answer me.
My fingers itch. Wife, we were just thinking ourselves blessed
That God had given us this only child,
But now I see that this one is one too many,
And that we are cursed in having her.
Throw her out, the good for nothing!

NURSE:

God in heaven bless her!
You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.

NURSE:

God in heaven bless her!
You are to blame, my lord, to berate her like this.

CAP:

And why, my Lady Wisdom? Hold your tongue,(175)
Good Prudence. Smatter with your gossips, go!

CAP:

And why are you butting in, my lady wisdom? Hold your tongue,
Good prudence; go chat with your gossips!

NURSE:

I speak no treason.

NURSE:

I’m not telling a lie.

CAP:

O, God-i-god-en!

CAP:

O, God! You! Good night!

NURSE:

May not one speak?

NURSE:

Can’t someone speak?

CAP:

Peace, you mumbling fool!(180)
Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl,
For here we need it not.

CAP:

Peace, you mumbling fool!
Talk about your serious speech over a gossip's bowl,
Because we don’t need it here!.

LADY:

You are too hot.

LADY:

You are too hot under the collar.

CAP:

God's bread! It makes me mad.
Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,(185)
Alone, in company, still my care hath been
To have her match'd; and having now provided
A gentleman of princely parentage,
Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts,(190)
Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man—
And then to have a wretched puling fool,
A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
To answer ‘I'll not wed, I cannot love;
I am too young, I pray you pardon me’!(195)
But, an you will not wed, I'll pardon you.
Graze where you will, you shall not house with me.
Look to't, think on't; I do not use to jest.
Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise:
An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;(200)
An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets,
For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
Nor what is mine shall never do thee good.
Trust to't. Bethink you. I'll not be forsworn.

Exit.

CAP:

God's bread! It makes me angry.
Day, night, hour, time, tide, work, play,
Alone, or in company, still my main concern has been
To have her matched to a good man, and now having provided
A gentleman of noble parentage,
Of beautiful lands and estates, youthful, and with noble manners,
Stuffed, as they say, with honorable parts,
Proportioned as woman's heart would wish a man to be built,
And then to have a wretched fool, crying like a baby,
A whining child, in her luck’s best offer,
To answer, “I'll not wed, I cannot love,
I am too young, I pray you pardon me.”
But, if you will not wed, I'll pardon you.
Eat where you can, you won’t live with me.
Look to it. Think on it, I’m not joking.
Thursday is near; swear to me, tell me.
If you are mine, I'll give you to my friend;
If you aren’t, go hang yourself, beg, starve, die in the streets,
Because, by my soul, I'll never acknowledge you exist,
And you will cut off from your inheritance.
Trust to it. Think about it. You won’t make a liar out of me.

JUL:

Is there no pity sitting in the clouds(205)
That sees into the bottom of my grief?
O sweet my mother, cast me not away!
Delay this marriage for a month, a week;
Or if you do not, make the bridal bed
In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.(210)

JUL:

Is there no pity sitting in the clouds
That sees into the bottom of my grief?
O, sweet my mother, don’t push me away!
Delay this marriage for a month, a week;
Or, if you don’t, make my bridal bed
In that dim tomb where Tybalt lies.

LADY:

Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word.
Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.

LADY:

Don’t talk to me, because I won’t answer you.
Do what you want to do, because I’m finished with you.

Exit.

JUL:

O God!—O nurse, how shall this be prevented?
My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven.
How shall that faith return again to earth(215)
Unless that husband send it me from heaven
By leaving earth? Comfort me, counsel me.
Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems
Upon so soft a subject as myself!
What say'st thou? Hast thou not a word of joy?(220)
Some comfort, Nurse.

JUL:

O God! O nurse! How can this wedding be prevented?
My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven.
How can I avoid committing a sin,
Unless the husband that heaven sent me
Dies? Comfort me. Advise me.
What a pity, what a pity that heaven should practice its strategies
On a weak subject such as I am!
What do you say? Don’t you have any word of joy?
Give me some comfort, nurse.

NURSE:

Faith, here it is.
Romeo is banish'd; and all the world to nothing
That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you;
Or if he do, it needs must be by stealth.(225)
Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,
I think it best you married with the County.
O, he's a lovely gentleman!
Romeo's a dishclout to him. An eagle, madam,
Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye(230)
As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,
I think you are happy in this second match,
For it excels your first; or if it did not,
Your first is dead—or 'twere as good he were
As living here and you no use of him.(235)

NURSE:

Well then, here it is. Romeo
Is banished, and all the world is nothing
If he ever dares to come back to fight for you.
Or if he does, he has to fight for you in secret.
Then, since that’s the story as it stands now,
I think it best for you to marry the count.
O, he's a lovely gentleman!
Romeo's a dish cloth compared to him. An eagle, madam,
Is not as green, as quick, and hasn’t so beautiful an eye
As Paris has. Curse my very heart,
I think you will be happy in this second marriage,
For it surpasses your first. Or if it doesn’t,
Your first marriage is dead; or it’s just as good that he was,
Not living here, and you can’t be a proper wife.

JUL:

Speak'st thou this from thy heart?

JUL:

Do you say this from heart?

NURSE:

And from my soul too;
Else beshrew them both.

NURSE:

And from my soul too
Or else curse them both.

JUL:

Amen!

JUL:

Amen!

NURSE:

What?(240)

NURSE:

What?

JUL:

Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.
Go in; and tell my lady I am gone,
Having displeas'd my father, to Laurence’ cell,
To make confession and to be absolv'd.

JUL:

Well, you have really comforted me a lot.
Go inside, and tell my mother that I’m going
to Lawrence' cell to make confession and be forgiven
Because I’ve made my father so angry.

NURSE:

Marry, I will; and this is wisely done.(245)

NURSE:

By Mary, I will. And you’re doing the right thing.

Exit.

JUL:

Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!
Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,
Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue
Which she hath prais'd him with above compare
So many thousand times? Go, counsellor!(250)
Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.
I'll to the friar to know his remedy.
If all else fail, myself have power to die.

JUL:

Damn, damn! O most wicked, evil woman!
Is it more sin to wish me to be a liar,
Or to curse my husband with the same tongue
That she has praised him with, above compare
So many thousand times? Go, advisor;
Our relationship has been cut in two. It’s over.
I'll go to the friar to know his solution.
If there isn’t a solution, I have the power to kill myself.

Exit.