Romeo and Juliet Text and Translation - Act I

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Act I

Scene I

Original Text Modern Translation

Veron. A public place.

Enter Sampson and Gregory with swords and bucklers of the house of Capulet.

SAMP:
Gregory, on my word, we'll not carry coals.
SAMP:
Gregory, on my word, we will not be humiliated, like carrying coal.
GREG:
No, for then we should be colliers.
GREG:
No, for that we should be coal miners.
SAMP:
I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.
SAMP:
I mean, if we are angry, we will draw our swords.
GREG:
Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of the collar.
GREG:
Yeah, while you’re alive, you’ll only draw your neck out of the hangman’s collar.
SAMP:
I strike quickly, being moved.(5)
SAMP:
I can hit quickly, if I’m motivated.
GREG:
But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
GREG:
But you’re not quickly motivated to hit.
SAMP:
A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
SAMP:
A dog of the house of Montague motivates me.
GREG:
To move is to stir, and to be valiant is to stand.
Therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away.
GREG:
To be motivated is to act, and to be valiant is to face the challenge;
When you are “motivated,” you run away.
SAMP:
A dog of that house shall move me to stand. I will(10)
take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.
SAMP:
A dog of that house will motivate me to face the challenge;
I will tear down the castle wall of any man or maid of Montague’s.
GREG:
That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to
the wall.
GREG:
That shows you are a weak slave, because the castle wall
is the weakest spot in the castle.
SAMP:
'Tis true; and therefore women, being the weaker
vessels, are ever thrust to the wall. Therefore I will push(15)
Montague's men from the wall and thrust his maids to
the wall.
SAMP:
True; and that’s why women, being so weak,
are always “thrust to the wall;” Watch me, I will push Montague’s men
from the castle wall, and thrust his maids to their “castle wall.”
GREG:
The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.
GREG:
The feud is between our masters, and by extension, all their men.
SAMP:
'Tis all one. I will show myself a tyrant. When I have
fought with the men, I will be civil with the maids; I will(20)
cut off their heads.
SAMP:
Makes no difference. I will be a tyrant in battle;
when I have finished fighting with the men, I will be cruel to the maids.
I will cut off their heads.
GREG:
The heads of the maids?
GREG:
You mean you’d cut off a woman’s head?
SAMP:
Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads. Take
it in what sense thou wilt.
SAMP:
Yes, the heads of maids, or their virginity. Take it any way you like.
GREG:
They must take it in sense that feel it.(25)
GREG:
It’s the maids who will feel what you mean, not take it.
SAMP:
Me they shall feel while I am able to stand; and 'tis
known, I am a pretty piece of flesh.
SAMP:
They’ll feel me all right, as long as I can keep it up,
And everyone knows, I’m well endowed.
GREG:
'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst
been poor-John. Draw thy tool! Here comes two of the
house of Montagues.(30)
GREG:
It’s a good thing you’re not a fish. If you were,
you’d be dried and salted! Draw your weapon-
Here come two guys from Montague’s house.

Enter two other Servingmen, Abram and Balthasar.

SAMP:
My naked weapon is out. Quarrel! I will back thee.
SAMP:
It’s out already! You pick a fight with them and I’ll back you up.
GREG:
How? turn thy back and run?
GREG:
You’ll back me up? How? By running away?
SAMP:
Fear me not.
SAMP:
Don’t worry about me.
GREG:
No, marry. I fear thee!
GREG:
Yeah right!
SAMP:
Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.(35)
SAMP:
Let’s do this legally. Let them start with us.
GREG:
I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they
list.
GREG:
I’ll make a face at them. Let them take it whatever way they will.
SAMP:
Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them;
which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.
SAMP:
No, before they start, I’ll give them the finger, which is
a disgrace if they don’t respond.
ABR:
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?(40)
ABR:
Did you just give us the finger, sir?
SAMP:
I do bite my thumb, sir.
SAMP:
I did give the finger, sir.
ABR:
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
ABR:
Did you give the finger to us, sir?
SAMP:

Aside to Gregory.

Is the law of our side, if I say ay?
SAMP:
Is it legal if I say “Yes?”
GREG:

Aside to Sampson.

No.
GREG:
No.
SAMP:
No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my(45)
thumb, sir.
SAMP:
No, sir, I did not give the finger to you, sir, but I did give the finger.
GREG:
Do you quarrel, sir?
GREG:
Are you picking a fight with us, sir?
ABR:
Quarrel, sir? No, sir.
ABR:
Fight, sir! No, sir.
SAMP:
But if you do, sir, I am for you. I serve as good a
man as you.(50)
SAMP:
But if you do fight, sir, then I will fight you. I work for as good a man as
you do.
ABR:
No better.
ABR:
No better?
SAMP:
Well, sir.
SAMP:
Well, sir.

Enter Benvolio.

GREG:

Aside to Sampson.

Say ‘better.’ Here comes one of
my master's kinsmen.
GREG:
Say “better.” Here comes one of Capulet’s relatives.
SAMP:
Yes, better, sir.(55)
SAMP:
Yes, better, sir.
ABR:
You lie.
ABR:
You’re a liar!
SAMP:
Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swash-
ing blow.
SAMP:
Draw your swords if you are men – Gregory, remember your best shot.

They fight.

BEN:
Part, fools!

He beats down their swords.

Put up your swords. You know not what you do.(60)
BEN:
Break it up, you fools.

You don’t know what you’re doing!

Enter Tybalt.

TYB:
What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
Turn thee, Benvolio! look upon thy death.
TYB:
What, is your sword out among these stupid servants?
Turn to me, Benvolio, and see your death.
BEN:
I do but keep the peace. Put up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
BEN:
I’m only trying to keep the peace. Put your sword away,
or use it to help me break up this fight.
TYB:
What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word(65)
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee.
Have at thee, coward!
TYB:
Are you kidding? Your sword is out and you talk about “peace?” I hate the word
as much as I hate hell, all the Montagues, and you! Fight me, coward!

They fight

Enter an officer, followers of both houses, and three or four Citizens with clubs or partisans.

CITIZENS:
Clubs, bills, and partisans! Strike! beat them
down! Down with the Capulets! Down with the
Montagues!(70)
CITIZENS:
Clubs, pikes, and more pikes! Strike! Beat them down!
Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!

Enter Old Capulet in his gown, and his Wife.

CAP:
What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!
CAP:
What’s going on? Give me my long sword, hey!
WIFE:
A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a sword?
WIFE:
You need a crutch, a crutch! Why do you want a sword!?
CAP:
My sword, I say! Old Montague is come
And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
CAP:
My sword, I say! Old Montague is out there,
and waves his blade in spite of me.

Enter Old Montague and his Wife.

MON:
Thou villain Capulet!—Hold me not, let me go.(75)
MON:
You are a villain, Capulet! (to his wife) Don’t hold me back – Let me go!
M.WIFE:
Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
M.WIFE:
You will not move one foot to fight!

Enter Prince Escalus, with his Train.

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(80)
With purple fountains issuing from your veins!
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mistempered weapons to the ground
And hear the sentence of your moved Prince.
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word(85)
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,(90)
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;(95)
And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
To know our farther pleasure in this case,
To old Freetown, our common judgment place.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
PRINCE:
Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace.
Misusing your swords to kill your neighbors!
Won’t they listen to me? What! Hey! You men, you beasts,
That put out the fire of your evil anger
With dark red fountains of blood from your veins -
On pain of torture, from your bloody hands,
Throw your evil, misused weapons to the ground
And hear the sentence of your angry Prince!
Three civil brawls, started by a meaningless comment,
By you, old Capulet, and you, Montague
Have three times disturbed the quiet of our streets
And made Verona’s senior citizens
Take out sober mementos of war and fighting,
To use them again as weapons, in their old hands,
Rusted from not being used, as hate has rusted your families.
If ever you disturb our streets again,
You will suffer the death penalty for breaking the peace.
Now, -everyone leave this place-
You, Capulet, shall go along with me;
And, Montague, you can come this afternoon,
To old Freetown, the court building.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.

Exeunt all but Montague, his Wife, and Benvolio.

MON:
Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?(100)
Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
MON:
Who started it this time?
Speak, nephew, where you there when it started?
BEN:
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 prepar'd;(105)
Which, as he breath'd 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,(110)
Till the Prince came, who parted either part.
BEN:
The servants of Capulet,
And your servants, were fighting before I got there.
I drew my sword to separate them; as soon as I did,
The fiery Tybalt, with his sword already out,
Which, as he shouted defiant words into my ears—
He swung about his head, slicing the Air,
Who, having not hurt anything, hissed at him in scorn;
While we ere interchanging thrusts and blows,
The brawl became hotter and more furious on both sides,
Until the Prince came, who broke it all up.
M. WIFE:
O, where is Romeo? Saw you him to-day?
Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
M. WIFE:
O, where is Romeo? Have you seen him today.
I am very happy he wasn’t at this fight.
BEN:
Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun
Peer'd forth the golden window of the East,(115)
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(120)
And stole into the covert of the wood.
I, measuring his affections by my own,
Which then most sought where most might not be found,
Being one too many by my weary self—
Pursu'd my humour, not pursuing his,(125)
And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
BEN:
Madam, and hour before the sun
Rose in the east,
My troubled mind got me up and I went for a walk;
Where, underneath the sycamore trees
The grow on the city’s West Side
In my early morning walk, I saw your son;
I went towards him, but he became aware of me
And went off to hide in the woods.
I thought he was feeling the way I was,
That many people are at their busiest when they’re alone,
Kept on walking and thinking, not worrying about him,
And I gladly walked away from him who gladly fled from me.
MON:
Many a morning hath he there been seen,
With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew,
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun(130)
Should in the farthest East begin to draw
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
Away from light steals home my heavy son
And private in his chamber pens himself,
Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out(135)
And makes himself an artificial night.
Black and portentous must this humour prove
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
MON:
He’s been seen there many mornings,
Crying tears that add to the fresh morning’s dew,
Adding “clouds” to the clouds her already had with deep sighs;
But just as soon as the sun (which should make you happy)
Moves well above the horizon, as the Goddess of Morning Aurora
Draws back the shady bed curtains from her bed,
My depressed son runs away from the light and comes home,
And locks himself in his bedroom,
Covers up his windows, locks out the fair daylight,
And makes himself an artificial night;
Black and ominous this mental state will be
Unless good advice can remove its cause.
BEN:
My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
BEN:
My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
MON:
I neither know it nor can learn of him.(140)
MON:
I don’t know and he won’t tell me.
BEN:
Have you importun'd him by any means?
BEN:
Have you questioned him at all?
MON:
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,(145)
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,(150)
We would as willingly give cure as know.
MON:
Both myself and many other friend
But he, advisor to his own affections,
Keeps it all to himself – I will not say how true
But to himself, so secret and so close,
So far from sounding and discovery,
Just like a flower bud bit by a worm jealous of its beauty
Before her can bloom and spread his sweet leaves to the air,
Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.
If we could figure out why he is so unhappy,
We would try to cure him with the same zeal.

Enter Romeo.

BEN:
See, where he comes. So please you, step aside,
I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.
BEN:
See, he’s coming; please step aside;
I’ll get him to talk to me or else.
MON:
I would thou wert so happy by thy stay
To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away,(155)
MON:
I wish you were happy to stay
And hear his true confession. Come, madam, let’s leave.

Exeunt Montague and Wife.

BEN:
Good morrow, cousin.
BEN:
Good morning, cousin
ROM:
Is the day so young?
ROM:
Is it morning?
BEN:
But new struck nine.
BEN:
It’s 9 AM.
ROM:
Ay me! sad hours seem long.
Was that my father that went hence so fast?(160)
ROM:
Dear me! sad hours seem long.
Was that my father that went away so fast?
BEN:
It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
BEN:
It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
ROM:
Not having that, which, having, makes them short.
ROM:
Not having the thing that would make them short hours.
BEN:
In love?
BEN:
In love?
ROM:
Out—
ROM:
Out,
BEN:
Of love?(165)
BEN:
Of love?
ROM:
Out of her favour, where I am in love.
ROM:
On the outs with the girl I love.
BEN:
Alas that love, so gentle in his view,
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
BEN:
Alas, that love, so gentle in his promise,
Should be so tyrannous and rough in reality!
ROM:
Alas that love, whose view is muffled still,
Should without eyes see pathways to his will!(170)
Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.
Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O any thing, of nothing first create!(175)
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.(180)
Dost thou not laugh?
ROM:
Alas, that love, whose eyes are blindfolded,
Should, without eyes, see ways to have his will done.
Where should we eat? – Oh, me! What fight was here?
Never mind, don’t tell me, for I have heard it all.
There’s a lot of this fight that has to do with hate, but also love-
Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O anything of nothing first create!
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Mis-shapen disorder of perfectly pleasing forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
Still waking sleep! That is not what love is!
This love feel I makes me feel no love in this.
Why don’t you laugh?
BEN:
No, coz, I rather weep.
BEN:
No, cousin, I'd rather cry.
ROM:
Good heart, at what?
ROM:
Good heart, at what?
BEN:
At thy good heart's oppression.
BEN:
At your good heart's oppression.
ROM:
Why, such is love's transgression.(185)
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest
With more of thine. This love that thou hast shown
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs;(190)
Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes;
Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers’ tears.
What is it else? A madness most discreet,
A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
Farewell, my coz.(195)
ROM:
Why, that is love's transgression.
My own griefs lie heavy in my heart;
Which you will take over to have it paired
With more grief of your own. this love that you have shown
Adds more grief to mine which is already too much.
Love is like smoke rising with clouds of sighs;
Being cleansed, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears.
What else is it? a madness most discreet,
A choking acid, and a preserving sweet.
Farewell, my coz.
BEN:
Soft! I will go along.
An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
BEN:
Hold on! I’ll go along.
If you leave me so depressed, you do me wrong.
ROM:
Tut! I have lost myself; I am not here:
This is not Romeo, he's some otherwhere.
ROM:
Tut! I have lost myself; I am not here.
This is not Romeo, he's some place else.
BEN:
Tell me in sadness, who is that you love?(200)
BEN:
Tell me in sadness who is that you love?
ROM:
What, shall I groan and tell thee?
ROM:
What, shall I groan and tell you?
BEN:
Groan? Why, no;
But sadly tell me who.
BEN:
Groan?! why, no;
But sadly tell me who.
ROM:
Bid a sick man in sadness make his will.
Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!(205)
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
ROM:
Bid a sick man in sadness make his will,
Ah, word that shouldn’t be used to one that is so ill!
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
BEN:
I aim'd so near when I suppos'd you lov'd.
BEN:
I thought so when I supposed you were in love.
ROM:
A right good markman! And she's fair I love.
ROM:
A right good marksman! And she's fair who I love.
BEN:
A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
BEN:
A right fair mark, fair coz, is the first hit.
ROM:
Well, in that hit you miss. She'll not be hit(210)
With Cupid's arrow. She hath Dian’s wit,
And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,
From Love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.
She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
Nor bide th’ encounter of assailing eyes,(215)
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold.
O, she's rich in beauty; only poor
That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store.
ROM:
Well, in that hit, you miss. she'll not be hit
With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's the love goddess’ wit;
And, in strong determination of chastity well armed,
From love's weak childish bow she lives unharmed.
She will not put up with loving language
Nor tolerate loving looks,
Nor does she care if a guy is rich.
O, she's rich in beauty; only poor
That, when she dies, her beauty dies with her.
BEN:
Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
BEN:
Then she has sworn to remain a virgin?
ROM:
She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste;(220)
For beauty, starv'd with her severity,
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,
To merit bliss by making me despair.
She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow(225)
Do I live dead that live to tell it now.
ROM:
She has, and in that decision, is wasting her looks and charms;
For beauty, starved with this woman’s severity,
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair,
To earn her own happiness by making me despair.
She has sworn not to love; and, in that vow,
I am really dead as I stand here alive to tell you about it now.
BEN:
Be rul'd by me: forget to think of her.
BEN:
Listen to me, forget about her.
ROM:
O, teach me how I should forget to think!
ROM:
O, teach me how I should forget to think.
BEN:
By giving liberty unto thine eyes.
Examine other beauties.(230)
BEN:
By giving freedom to your eyes to
Examine other beauties.
ROM:
'Tis the way
To call hers, exquisite, in question more.
These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows,
Being black puts us in mind they hide the fair.
He that is strucken blind cannot forget(235)
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.
Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
What doth her beauty serve but as a note
Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?
Farewell. Thou canst not teach me to forget.(240)
ROM:
That way is
To call her beauty, which is exquisite, more into question.
These happy masks that cover fair ladies' faces,
Being black, reminds us that they hide their beauty;
A man that is stricken blind cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eyesight that he lost.
Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
What purpose does her beauty serve but as a reminder
That I may see some other woman who cannot pass her beauty?
Farewell. thou canst not teach me to forget.
BEN:
I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
BEN:
I'll prove you wrong, or else die trying.

Exeunt.

Scene II

Original Text Modern Translation

A Street.

Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant.

CAP:
But Montague is bound as well as I,
In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think,
For men so old as we to keep the peace.
CAP:
But Montague is the same restrictions as I am,
The same penalty; and it should not be hard, I think,
For men so old as we to keep the peace.
PAR:
Of honourable reckoning are you both,
And pity 'tis you liv'd at odds so long.(5)
But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
PAR:
Of honorable status are you both;
And it’s a pity that you lived at odds so long.
But now, my lord, what say you to my request?
CAP:
But saying o'er what I have said before:
My child is yet a stranger in the world,
She hath not seen the change of fourteen years;
Let two more summers wither in their pride(10)
Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
CAP:
Only saying again what I have said before.
My child is yet a stranger to the world,
She’s not even fourteen years old;
Let two more summers wither in their pride
Before we may think her ripe to be a bride.
PAR:
Younger than she are happy mothers made.
PAR:
Younger girls than she are made happy mothers.
CAP:
And too soon marr'd are those so early made.
The earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she;
She is the hopeful lady of my earth.(15)
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart;
My will to her consent is but a part.
An she agree, within her scope of choice
Lies my consent and fair according voice.
This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,(20)
Whereto I have invited many a guest,
Such as I love; and you among the store,
One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
At my poor house look to behold this night
Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light.(25)
Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
When well-apparell'd April on the heel
Of limping Winter treads, even such delight
Among fresh female buds shall you this night
Inherit at my house. Hear all, all see,(30)
And like her most whose merit most shall be;
Which, amongst view of many, mine, being one,
May stand in number, though in reck'ning none.
Come, go with me.

To Servant, giving him a paper

Go, sirrah, trudge about(35)
Through fair Verona; find those persons out
Whose names are written there, and to them say,
My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.—
CAP:
And too soon marred are those made young mothers.
The earth has swallowed all my hopes but she,
She is the last hope I have.
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her love.
My consent to the marriage is but a part of the package;
If she agrees, within her ability to choose a husband,
I will consent and add my congratulations..
This night I hold an old feast that I’ve always given,
To which I have invited many guests,
People I love; and if you will be among the guests,
You’ll be one more, most welcome, and will make my guests more.
At my poor house look to behold this night
Women like earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light.
They give such comfort as lusty young men feel
When Spring appears with all the flowers and warmth
After a long, cold winter, even such delight
Among fresh female flower buds shall you this night
Find at my house; hear all, all see,
And like her most whose worth shall be the most.
Which, among the many women, my daughter, being one,
May stand out, though in my eyes, none can match her.
Come, go with me.

Go, Servant, trudge about
Through fair Verona; find the people
Whose names are written there, [gives a paper] and say to them that
My house and welcome wait on their pleasure.

Exeunt Capulet and Paris.

SERV:
Find them out whose names are written here?
It is written that the shoemaker should meddle with his(40)
yard and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his
pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to
find those persons whose names are here writ, and can
never find what names the writing person hath here
writ. I must to the learned. In good time!(45)
SERV:
Find the people whose names are written here!
It is written that the shoemaker should meddle with
his measuring tape and the tailor with his shoe form, the fisher with
his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am
sent to find the people whose names are written here,
and I cannot read what names the writing person
has written here. I must find a reader. in good time!

Enter Benvolio and Romeo.

BEN:
Tut, man! one fire burns out another's burning;
One pain is lessened 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,(50)
And the rank poison of the old will die.
BEN:
Tut, man, one fire burns out while another one is burning,
One pain is lessened by another's anguish;
Relax, and let me help you by turning your woes backward;
One desperate grief is cured with another's languish.
Take some new infection to your eye,
And the rank poison of the old love will die.
ROM:
Your plantain leaf is excellent for that.
ROM:
Your plantain-leaf is excellent for that.
BEN:
For what, I pray thee?
BEN:
For what, please tell me?
ROM:
For your broken shin.
ROM:
For your broken shin.
BEN:
Why, Romeo, art thou mad?(55)
BEN:
Why, Romeo, are you crazy?
ROM:
Not mad, but bound more than a madman is;
Shut up in Prison, kept without my food,
Whipp'd and tormented and–

Spoken to servant

God-eve, good fellow.
ROM:
Not crazy, but more tied up than a madman is;
I am shut up in prison, kept without my food,
Whipped and tormented and—

Good day, good fellow.

SERV:

To Romeo

I pray, sir, can you read?
SERV:
Good day.—Please tell me, sir, can you read?
ROM:
Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.(60)
ROM:
Yes, my own fortune in my misery.
SERV:
Perhaps you have learned it without book. But I pray,
can you read any thing you see?
SERV:
Perhaps you have learned it without book.
but please, can you read anything you see?
ROM:
Ay, If I know the letters and the language.
ROM:
Yes, If I know the letters and the language.
SERV:
Ye say honestly. Rest you merry!
SERV:
You speak honestly. have a nice day!
ROM:
Stay, fellow; I can read.(65)

He reads.

‘Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;
County Anselme and his beauteous sisters;
The lady widow of Vitruvio;
Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces;
Mercutio and his brother Valentine;(70)
Mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters;
My fair niece Rosaline and Livia;
Signior Valentio and his cousin Tybalt;
Lucio and the lively Helena.’

Gives back the paper.

A fair assembly. Whither should they come?(75)
ROM:
Stay, fellow; I can read.

Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;
County Anselmo and his beauteous sisters; the
lady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio and
his lovely nieces; Mercutio and his brother
Valentine; my uncle Capulet, his wife, and
daughters; my fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior
Valentio and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio and the
lively Helena.'

A fair group. Where should they come?

SERV:
Up.
SERV:
Up.
ROM:
Whither to supper?
ROM:
Where?
SERV:
To our house.
SERV:
To supper; to our house.
ROM:
Whose house?
ROM:
Whose house?
SERV:
My master's.(80)
SERV:
My master's.
ROM:
Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before.
ROM:
Indeed I should have asked you that before.
SERV:
Now I'll tell you without asking. My master is the
great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house of Montagues,
I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. Rest
you merry!(85)
SERV:
Now I'll tell you without asking. my master is the great
rich Capulet; and if you are not of the house of Montagues,
please, come and have a cup of wine. Have a nice day!

Exit.

BEN:
At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov'st;
With all the admired beauties of Verona.
Go thither, and with unattainted eye
Compare her face with some that I shall show,(90)
And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
BEN:
At this same ancient feast of Capulet's,
The fair Rosaline whom you love so much will have supper;
With all the admired beauties of Verona.
Let’s go, and, with a clear eye,
Compare her face with some others that I shall show you,
And I will make you think your swan is a crow.
ROM:
When the devout religion of mine eye
Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires.
And these, who often drown'd, could never die,
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!(95)
One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun
Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
ROM:
When the devout religion of my eye
Hangs on to such a lie, then my tears turn to fires;
And these eyes, who, often drowned, could never die,
Heretics you can see through, they will be burnt for liars!
One fairer than my love? the all-seeing sun
Never saw anything to match her since the world first began.
BEN:
Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by,
Herself pois'd with herself in either eye;
But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd(100)
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 seems best.
BEN:
Tut, you saw her beauty with no one else being near.
She balanced herself in either eye.
But, in that crystal scale, let’s weigh
Your lady's love against some other maid’s love and beauty,
Who, I will show you, is shining at this feast,
And she shall show a little well, that now shows best.
ROM:
I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,(105)
But to rejoice in splendour of my own.
ROM:
I'll go along, not to be shown such a sight,
But to rejoice in splendor of my own love’s looks.

Exeunt.

Scene III

Original Text Modern Translation

Capulet's House.

Enter Lady Capulet, and Nurse.

LADY CAP:
Nurse, where's my daughter? Call her forth to me.
LADY CAP:
Nurse, where's my daughter? call her to come to me.
NURSE:
Now, by my maidenhead at twelve year old, I bade
her come. What, lamb! what ladybird! God forbid!
Where's this girl? What, Juliet!
NURSE:
Now, by my virginity at twelve years old,
I told her to come. What, lamb! what ladybird!
God forbid! where's this girl? what, Juliet!

Enter Juliet.

JUL:
How now? Who calls?(5)
JUL:
What, who calls?
NURSE:
Your mother.
NURSE:
Your mother.
JUL:
Madam, I am here.
What is your will?
JUL:
Madam, I am here. What is do you need?
LADY CAP:
This is the matter—Nurse, give leave awhile,
We must talk in secret. Nurse, come back again;(10)
I have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our counsel.
Thou knowest my daughter's of a pretty age.
LADY CAP:
This is the matter, Nurse, leave us alone a while,
We must talk in secret. nurse, come back again;
I have remembered, you can hear our conversation.
You know my daughter's at a pretty age.
NURSE:
Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
NURSE:
Believe me, I can tell her age to the hour.
LADY CAP:
She's not fourteen.
LADY CAP:
She's not fourteen.
NURSE:
I'll lay fourteen of my teeth—(15)
And yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four—
She is not fourteen. How long is it now
To Lammastide?
NURSE:
I'll bet fourteen of my teeth,
And yet, to tell the truth, I’ve only got four,
She is not fourteen. How long is it now
To the middle of July?
LADY CAP:
A fortnight and odd days.
LADY CAP:
Two weeks and a couple of days.
NURSE:
Even or odd, of all days in the year,(20)
Come Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen.
Susan and she (God rest all Christian souls!)
Were of an age. Well, Susan is with God;
She was too good for me. But, as I said,
On Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen;(25)
That shall she, marry; I remember it well.
'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;
And she was wean'd (I never shall forget it),
Of all the days of the year, upon that day;
For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,(30)
Sitting in the sun under the dovehouse wall.
My lord and you were then at Mantua.
Nay, I do bear a brain. But, as I said,
When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple
Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool,(35)
To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug!
Shake, quoth the dovehouse! 'Twas no need, I trow,
To bid me trudge.
And since that time it is eleven years,
For then she could stand high-lone; nay, by th’ rood,(40)
She could have run and waddled all about;
For even the day before, she broke her brow;
And then my husband (God be with his soul!
A’ was a merry man) took up the child.
‘Yea,’ quoth he, ‘dost thou fall upon thy face?(45)
Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;
Wilt thou not, Jule?’ and, by my holidame,
The pretty wretch left crying, and said ‘Ay.’
To see now how a jest shall come about!
I warrant, an I should live a thousand years,(50)
I never should forget it. ‘Wilt thou not, Jule?’ quoth he,
And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said ‘Ay.’
NURSE:
Couple of days or not, of all days in the year,
Come the middle of July, she’ll be fourteen.
My daughter, Susan, and she God rest all Christian souls!
Were the same age. well, Susan is with God;
She was too good for me. but, as I said,
In the middle of July, she’ll be fourteen;
That she will, by Mary; I remember it well.
It’s been eleven years since the earthquake;
And she was weaned, I never shall forget it ,
Of all the days of the year, upon that day.
Because I had put a bitter herb on my breast,
Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall;
My lord and you were then at Mantua.
No, I do remember. but, as I said,
When she tasted the bitter herb on the nipple
Of my breast and it tasted bitter to her, pretty fool,
To see her have a tantrum, and scream at my breast!
”My goodness,” said the little one. “There was no need, I believe,
To send me away like that.”
And since that time, it is eleven years;
For then she could stand by herself; no, by the Cross,
She could have run and waddled all about;
For even the day before, she bumped her head.
And then my husband, God be with his soul!
He was a merry man, took up the child.
”Look here,“ he said, “did you fall on your face?
You will fall backwards when you are older;
Won’t you, Jule?' and, by my Church,
The pretty wretch left crying, and said “Yes.”
To see now how a jest shall come about!
I swear, if I should live a thousand yeas,
I never should forget it; 'Won’t you, Jule?' he said;
And, pretty fool, stopped, and said “Yes.”
LADY CAP:
Enough of this. I pray thee hold thy peace.
LADY CAP:
Enough of this; Please hold your peace.
NURSE:
Yes, madam. Yet I cannot choose but laugh
To think it should leave crying and say ‘Ay.’(55)
And yet, I warrant, it had upon it brow
A bump as big as a young cock'rel's stone;
A perilous knock; and it cried bitterly.
Yea,’ quoth my husband, ‘fall'st upon thy face?
Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;(60)
Wilt thou not, Jule?’ It stinted, and said ‘Ay.’
NURSE:
Yes, madam; yet I cannot choose but laugh,
To think she should leave crying, and saying, “Yes!”
And yet, I swear, she had upon her head
A bump as big as a young cockerel's testicle;
A very terrible knock; and she cried bitterly.
”Yes,” said my husband, ”you fell on your face?
You will fall backwards when you get to be marrying age;
Won’t you, Jule?' she stopped, and said “Yes.”
JUL:
And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.
JUL:
And you stop too, please, nurse, I say.
NURSE:
Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace!
Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd.
An I might live to see thee married once,(65)
I have my wish.
NURSE:
Peace, I have done. God mark you for his grace!
You were the prettiest baby that I ever nursed.
If I live to see you married, I have my wish.
LADY CAP:
Marry, that ‘marry’ is the very theme
I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
How stands your disposition to be married?
LADY CAP:
By Mary, that “marry” is what
I want to talk about. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
What do you think about getting married?
JUL:
It is an honour that I dream not of.(70)
JUL:
It is an honor that I never dreamed about.
NURSE:
An honour? Were not I thine only nurse,
I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.
NURSE:
An honor!—If I were the only nurse to feed you,
I would say you had sucked wisdom from my breast.
LADY CAP:
Well, think of marriage now. Younger than you,
Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
Are made already mothers. By my count,(75)
I was your mother much upon these years
That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:
The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
LADY CAP:
Well, think of marriage now. younger than you,
Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
Are made already mothers. by my count
I was your mother pretty close to the age
That you are now. Thus, then, here it is;
The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
NURSE:
A man, young lady! lady, such a man
As all the world- why he's a man of wax.(80)
NURSE:
A man, young lady! lady, such a man
As all the world why he's the very image of a wax statue.
LADY CAP:
Verona's summer hath not such a flower.
LADY CAP:
Verona's summer does not have such a flower of a man.
NURSE:
Nay, he's a flower, in faith—a very flower.
NURSE:
No, he's a flower, I believe, a very flower.
LADY CAP:
What say you? Can you love the gentleman?
This night you shall behold him at our feast.
Read o'er the volume of young Paris’ face,(85)
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;
Examine every married lineament,
And see how one another lends content;
And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies
Find written in the margent of his eyes,(90)
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
To beautify him only lacks a cover.
The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride
For fair without the fair within to hide.
That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,(95)
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
So shall you share all that he doth possess,
By having him making yourself no less.
LADY CAP:
What do you say? can you love the gentleman?
This night you’ll see him at our feast;
Read over the book of young Paris' face,
And find delight written there with beauty's pen;
Examine every detail of his distinctive features,
And see how one lends another strength;
And what is obscured in this fair book, you will
Find written in the pages of his eyes.
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
To him perfect, he only needs a cover.
The fish lives in the sea; and it takes a lot of pride
For beauty outside to hide without beauty inside.
This book in many girls' eyes shares the glory,
That with gold clips locks in the golden story;
So you will share all that he possesses,
By having him, you are doing no less than making yourself.
NURSE:
No less? Nay, bigger! Women grow by men.
NURSE:
No less? no, bigger! Women grow by men.
LADY CAP:
Speak briefly, can you like of Paris’ love?(100)
LADY CAP:
Speak briefly, can you like Paris' love?
JUL:
I'll look to like, if looking liking move;
But no more deep will I endart mine eye
Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.
JUL:
I'll look at him to like him, if, just by looking, I can like him,
But I will not go any further
Than your consent gives my action strength to make it fly.

Enter Servingman.

SERV:
Madam, the guests are come, supper serv'd up, you
call'd, my young lady ask'd for, the nurse curs'd in the(105)
pantry, and everything in extremity. I must hence to
wait. I beseech you follow straight.
SERV:
Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you are
called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed
in the pantry, and everything is in chaos. I must
go to wait on people; I beg you, please follow me right away.
LADY CAP:
We follow thee.

Exit Servingman.

Juliet, the County stays.
LADY CAP:
We will follow you.

Juliet, the count is waiting.

NURSE:
Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.(110)
NURSE:
Go, girl, seek these happy nights to give you happy days.

Exeunt.

Scene IV

Original Text Modern Translation

A street.

Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six other Maskers; Torchbearers

ROM:
What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
Or shall we on without apology?
ROM:
What are we going to give as our excuse?
Or shall we just go on without any apology?
BEN:
The date is out of such prolixity.
We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,(5)
Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crowkeeper;
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
After the prompter, for our entrance;
But, let them measure us by what they will,(10)
We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.
BEN:
The time is of such a boring duration.
We'll have no Cupid blind-folded with a scarf,
Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of wood slats,
Scaring the ladies like a scarecrow;
Nor any introduction not memorized, spoken faintly
After the hearing the prompter read them, for our entrance.
But, let them guess who we are by whatever means they will,
We'll keep them guessing and have a brief dance, and be gone.
ROM:
Give me a torch. I am not for this ambling.
Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
ROM:
Give me a torch, I am not for this party-crashing;
I am feeling heavy, so I will bear the light.
MER:
Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
MER:
No, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
ROM:
Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes(15)
With nimble soles; I have a soul of lead
So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
ROM:
Not me, believe me. You have dancing shoes,
With nimble soles; I have a soul of lead
That pins me to the ground. I cannot move.
MER:
You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings
And soar with them above a common bound.
MER:
You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
And use them to soar above that leaden soul.
ROM:
I am too sore enpierced with his shaft(20)
To soar with his light feathers; and so bound
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe.
Under love's heavy burden do I sink.
ROM:
I am too sore from being pierced with Cupid’s shaft
To soar with his wings; and so wounded,
I cannot jump even a little bit above dull woe.
Under love's heavy burden, I would sink.
MER:
And, to sink in it, should you burden love—
Too great oppression for a tender thing.(25)
MER:
And, to sink in it, you should outweigh love;
Too great oppression for a tender feeling.
ROM:
Is love a tender thing? It is too rough,
Too rude, too boist'rous, and it pricks like thorn.
ROM:
Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,
Too rude, too boisterous; and it pricks like thorn.
MER:
If love be rough with you, be rough with love.
Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
Give me a case to put my visage in.(30)
A visor for a visor! What care I
What curious eye doth quote deformities?
Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.
MER:
If love be rough with you, be rough with love;
Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
Give me my mask. [Putting on a mask.]
A fig for a mask! what do I care
What curious eye lists my deformities?
Here are the long, black eyebrows that shall blush for me.
BEN:
Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in
But every man betake him to his legs.(35)
BEN:
Come, knock and enter; and, as soon as we get in,
Every man start running.
ROM:
A torch for me! Let wantons light of heart
Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels;
For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase,
I'll be a candle-holder and look on;
The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.(40)
ROM:
Just give me a torch. Let spoiled children, light of heart,
Tickle the senseless weeds with their running and dancing;
For I am composing proverbs with a grandfather’s words,
I'll be a candle-holder and look on,
The game was never any fun and I am done.
MER:
Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own word!
If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire
Or (save your reverence) love, wherein thou stick'st
Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!
MER:
Tut, dun's the brownish color of a mouse, the constable's own word.
If you are brownish, we'll pull you out of the mud
Of this—sir, reverence love, wherein you are stuck
Up to the ears.—Come on, we’re wasting time.
ROM:
Nay, that's not so.(45)
ROM:
No, that's not so.
MER:
I mean, sir, in delay
We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
Five times in that ere once in our five wits.
MER:
I mean, sir, in delaying our entrance,
We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
Five times more in that sense, than once in our five wits.
ROM:
And we mean well, in going to this mask;(50)
But 'tis no wit to go.
ROM:
And we mean well, in going to this masquerade;
But it’s no great sport to go.
MER:
Why, may one ask?
MER:
Why, may one ask?
ROM:
I dreamt a dream to-night.
ROM:
I dreamt a dream tonight.
MER:
And so did I.
MER:
And so did I.
ROM:
Well, what was yours?(55)
ROM:
Well, what was yours?
MER:
That dreamers often lie.
MER:
That dreamers often lie.
ROM:
In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.
ROM:
In bed asleep, while they do dream about things are true.
MER:
O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate stone(60)
On the forefinger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;
Her wagon spokes made of long spinners’ legs,
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;(65)
Her traces, of the smallest spider's web;
Her collars, of the moonshine's wat'ry beams;
Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;
Her wagoner, a small grey-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm(70)
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;
Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
Time out o’ mind the fairies’ coachmakers.
And in this state she gallops night by night(75)
Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love;
O'er courtiers’ knees, that dream on court'sies straight;
O'er lawyers’ fingers, who straight dream on fees;
O'er ladies’ lips, who straight on kisses dream,
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,(80)
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.
Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail
Tickling a parson's nose as a’ lies asleep,(85)
Then dreams he of another benefice.
Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon(90)
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That plats the manes of horses in the night
And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,(95)
Which once untangled much misfortune bodes
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That presses them and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage.
This is she—(100)
MER:
O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the forefinger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little skeletons
From side to side of men's noses as they lie asleep.
Her wagon wheel spokes made of long spiders' legs;
The cover is made of the wings of grasshoppers;
The ropes are made of the smallest spider's web;
The collars are made of the moonshine's watery beams;
Her whip is made of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;
Her wagon driver is a small grey-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Taken from the lazy finger of a maid.
Her chariot is an empty hazel nut,
Made by the carpenter squirrel or old grub,
From time immemorial, the fairies' are the coach makers.
And in this state she gallops night by night
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
Over courtiers' knees, and they dream of making courtesies;
Over lawyers' fingers, who right away dream of their fees;
Over ladies' lips, who right away dream of kisses,
Which the angry Mab often leaves with blisters and plagues,
Because their breaths are tainted with candies;
Sometime she gallops over a courtier's nose,
And then he dreams of detecting a new petition;
And sometime comes she with tail of a pig that paid a church debt,
Tickling a parson's nose as he lies asleep,
Then he dreams of another favor he can collect.
Sometime she drives over a soldier's neck,
And then he dreams of cutting foreign throats,
Of infractions , sneak attacks, Spanish swords,
Of safety five fathoms deep in the sea; and then soon
He hears drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes;
And, being thus frightened, swears a prayer or two,
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That braids the manes of horses in the night;
And bakes tangled messes of hair into foul dirty hairs,
Which, once untangled, signals the beginning of much misfortune.
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That presses them, and learns them first to give birth,
Making them women of good “carriage”;
This is she,
ROM:
Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
Thou talk'st of nothing.
ROM:
Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace,
You’re talking about nothing.
MER:
True, I talk of dreams;
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy;(105)
Which is as thin of substance as the air,
And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
Even now the frozen bosom of the north
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.(110)
MER:
True, I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Born of nothing but vain fantasy;
Which is as thin of substance as the air,
And more inconstant than the wind, who courts,
Even now, the frozen heart of the north,
And, being angered, puffs away from there,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
BEN:
This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves.
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
BEN:
This wind you talk of blows us from our party crashing.
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
ROM:
I fear, too early; for my mind misgives
Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date(115)
With this night's revels and expire the term
Of a despised life, clos'd in my breast,
By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
But He, that hath the steerage of my course,
Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen!(120)
ROM:
I fear too early. because my mind is upset that
Some consequence, yet to happen,
Shall bitterly begin its frightening job
With this night's revels; and kill
A despised life, closed in my breast,
By some vile loss, an untimely death.
But God who has the plan of my journey on this sea,
Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen!
BEN:
Strike, drum.
BEN:
Strike the drum.

They march about the stage. Exeunt.

Scene V

Original Text Modern Translation

Capulet's House.

Servingmen come forth with napkins.

1. SERV:
Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away?
He shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher!
1. SERV:
Where's Potpan, that he doesn’t help with cleaning up?
Move the plates! Scrape the plates!
2. SERV:
When good manners shall lie all in one or two
men's hands, and they unwash'd too, 'tis a foul thing.(5)
2. SERV:
When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's
hands, and they unwashed too, it’s a foul thing.
1. SERV:
Away with the joint-stools, remove the court-cupboard,
look to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of
marchpane and, as thou lovest me, let the porter let in
Susan Grindstone and Nell. Anthony, and Potpan!
1. SERV:
Away with the good stools, remove the china closet, look
to the plate. please save me a piece of marzipan; and because
you love me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.
Antony! and Potpan!
2. SERV:
Ay, boy, ready.
2. SERV:
Yes, boy, ready.

Enter Third and Fourth servants.

1. SERV:
You are look'd for and call'd for, ask'd for and(10)
sought for, in the great chamber.
1. SERV:
You are looked for and called for, asked for
and sought for in the great chamber.
3. SERV:
We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys!
Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.
3. SERV:
We cannot be here and there too.—Look lively, boys;
be quick awhile, and the one who lives the longest takes all.

Exeunt.

Enter the Maskers, Enter, (with Servants) Capulet, his Wife, Juliet, Tybalt, and all the Guests and Gentlewomen to the Maskers.

CAP:
Welcome, gentlemen! Ladies that have their toes(15)
Unplagu'd with corns will have a bout with you.
Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all
Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty,
She, I'll swear, hath corns. Am I come near ye now?
Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day(20)
That I have worn a visor and could tell
A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,
Such as would please. 'Tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone!
You are welcome, gentlemen! Come, musicians, play.
A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls.
Music plays, and they dance. (25)
More light, you knaves! and turn the tables up,
And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.
Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet,
For you and I are past our dancing days.(30)
How long is't now since last yourself and I
Were in a mask?
CAP:
Welcome, gentlemen! ladies whose toes are
Not plagued with corns will have a dance with you.
Ah ha, my mistresses! which one of you all
Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty and shy, she,
I'll swear has corns! Am I to come near you now?
Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day
That I have worn a mask, and could tell
A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear
Such as would please her; it’s gone, it’s gone, it’s gone!
You are welcome, gentlemen! Come, musicians, play.
A hall a hall! Make room! And dance, girls.
[Music plays, and they dance.]
Bring more light, you knaves; and turn the tables up,
And put out the fire, the room has become too hot.
Ah, Servant, this unlooked-for sport comes well.
No, sit, no, sit, good cousin Capulet;
For you and I are past our dancing days;
How long is it now since you and I
Were last in a mask?
2. CAP:
By'r Lady, thirty years.
2. CAP:
By our Lady, thirty years.
CAP:
What, man? 'Tis not so much, 'tis not so much!
'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,(35)
Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,
Some five-and-twenty years, and then we mask'd.
CAP:
What, man! It’s not that long! It’s not that long!
It’s since the wedding of Lucentio,
Come Pentecost as quickly as it will, it’s
Some five-and-twenty years since we masked.
2. CAP:
'Tis more, 'tis more! His son is elder, sir;
His son is thirty.
2. CAP:
It’s more, it’s more. his son is older, sir;
His son is thirty.
CAP:
Will you tell me that?(40)
His son was but a ward two years ago.
CAP:
Will you tell me that?
His son was but a ward two years ago.
ROM:

To a Servingman.

What lady's that, which doth
enrich the hand
Of yonder knight?
ROM:
What lady is that, who make the hand
Of that knight richer?
SERV:
I know not, sir.(45)
SERV:
I know not, sir.
ROM:
O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear—
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows(50)
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand
And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight!
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.(55)
ROM:
O, she teaches the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiopian’s ear;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
So a snowy dove trooping with crows shows
As yonder lady over her fellows shows.
The dance done, I'll watch to see where she’ll stand,
And, touching her hand, will make blessed my rude hand.
Did my heart love till now? Renounce it, sight!
For I never saw true beauty till this night.
TYB:
This, by his voice, should be a Montague.
Fetch me my rapier, boy. What, dares the slave
Come hither, cover'd with an antic face,
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,(60)
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
TYB:
This, by his voice, should be a Montague.
Fetch me my rapier, boy. what, dares the slave
Come hither, covered with a mask,
To sneer and scorn at our feast?
Now, by the stock and honor of my kin,
I don’t think it’s a sin to strike him dead.
CAP:
Why, how now, kinsman? Wherefore storm you so?
CAP:
Why, what, kinsman! Why do you storm so?
TYB:
Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;
A villain, that is hither come in spite
To scorn at our solemnity this night.(65)
TYB:
Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;
A villain, that has come here in spite,
To scorn at our feast this night.
CAP:
Young Romeo is it?
CAP:
Young Romeo, is it?
TYB:
'Tis he, that villain Romeo.
TYB:
It is he, that villain, Romeo.
CAP:
Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone.
He bears him like a portly gentleman,
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him(70)
To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth.
I would not for the wealth of all this town
Here in my house do him disparagement.
Therefore be patient, take no note of him.
It is my will; the which if thou respect,(75)
Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
CAP:
Be content, gentle cousin, leave him alone.
He bears himself like a portly gentleman;
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
To be a virtuous and well-governed youth.
I would not for the wealth of all the town
Do him disrespect here in my house.
Therefore be patient, take no note of him,
It is my will. If you respect my will, then
Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
They are not the proper expressions for a feast.
TYB:
It fits when such a villain is a guest.
I'll not endure him.
TYB:
It fits, when such a villain is a guest.
I'll not endure him
CAP:
He shall be endur'd.(80)
What, goodman boy? I say he shall. Go to!
Am I the master here, or you? Go to!
You'll not endure him? God shall mend my soul!
You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!(85)
CAP:
He shall be endured.
What, good lord, boy! I say he shall; Come on!
Am I the master here or you? Come on!.
You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul,
You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
You will be boastful! You'll be the man!
TYB:
Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.
TYB:
Why, uncle, it’s a shame.
CAP:
Go to, go to!
You are a saucy boy. Is't so, indeed?
This trick may chance to scathe you. I know what.
You must contrary me! Marry, 'tis time—(90)
Well said, my hearts!—You are a princox—go!
Be quiet, or—More light, more light!—For shame!
I'll make you quiet; what!—Cheerly, my hearts!
CAP:
Come on, come on!
You are a saucy boy. Is it so, indeed?
This tantrum may be bring you harm I know what.
You must contradict me! By Mary, it is time.
Well said, my hearts! You are a conceited young fellow; go.
Be quiet, or More light, more light! For shame!
I'll make you quiet. What!—Look lively, my hearts.
TYB:
Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.(95)
I will withdraw; but this intrusion shall,
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitt'rest gall.
TYB:
Patience perhaps meeting with a willful temper
Makes my flesh tremble in their differences.
I will withdraw, but this intrusion shall,
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter acid.

Exit.

ROM:
If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand(100)
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
ROM:
If I desecrate with my most unworthy hand
This holy shrine of your hand, the gentle end is this,
My lips, like two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
JUL:
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.(105)
JUL:
Good pilgrim, you wrong your hand too much,
Which is showing devotion and good manners in this touch;
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands touch,
And putting a palm to another palm is a holy pilgrim's kiss.
ROM:
Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
ROM:
Don’t saints and holy pilgrims have lips too?
JUL:
Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
JUL:
Yes, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
ROM:
O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do!
They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
ROM:
O, then, dear saint, let our lips do what hands do;
They pray, as you said, in case faith should turn to despair.
JUL:
Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.(110)
JUL:
Saints do not move, though they do grant favors for prayers' sake.
ROM:
Then move not while my prayer's effect I take.
Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purg'd.
ROM:
Then don’t move while I take my prayer's answer.
Thus from my lips, by your lips, my sin is purged.

Kisses her.

JUL:
Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
JUL:
Then, do my lips have the sin that they have taken from yours?.
ROM:
Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg'd!
Give me my sin again.(115)
ROM:
Sin from my lips? O sin sweetly encouraged!
Give me my sin again.

Kisses her.

JUL:
You kiss by th’ book.
JUL:
You kiss by the book.
NURSE:
Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
NURSE:
Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
ROM:
What is her mother?
ROM:
Who is her mother?
NURSE:
Marry, bachelor,
Her mother is the lady of the house.(120)
And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous.
I nurs'd her daughter that you talk'd withal.
I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
Shall have the chinks.
NURSE:
By Mary, young man,
Her mother is the lady of the house.
And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous lady.
I nursed her daughter that you talking to;
I tell you, the man that can get her
Shall have loads of ready cash.
ROM:
Is she a Capulet?(125)
O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.
ROM:
Is she a Capulet?
O dear account! Now I am in debt to my enemy.
BEN:
Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.
BEN:
Let’s go, we’re leaving; our party-crashing is done.
ROM:
Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
ROM:
Yes, so I fear; and my fears are more than they were.
CAP:
Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.(130)
Is it e'en so? Why then, I thank you all.
I thank you, honest gentlemen. Good night.
More torches here!

Exeunt Maskers.

Come on then, let's to bed.
Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late;(135)
I'll to my rest.
CAP:
No, gentlemen, don’t get ready to leave.
We still have a trifling foolish banquet to share.
I can’t change your mind? why then, I thank you all;
I thank you, honest gentlemen; good-night.
More torches here!

Come on then, let's go to bed.
Ah, Servant [to 2 Capulet], by my faith, it grows late;
I'm going to sleep.

Exeunt all but Juliet and Nurse.

JUL:
Come hither, Nurse. What is yon gentleman?
JUL:
Come here, nurse. Who is that gentleman over there?
NURSE:
The son and heir of old Tiberio.
NURSE:
The son and heir of old Tiberio.
JUL:
What's he that now is going out of door?
JUL:
Who is he that is going out the door now?
NURSE:
Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio.(140)
NURSE:
By Mary, that, I think, is young Petruchio.
JUL:
What's he that follows there, that would not dance?
JUL:
Who is he that follows there, the one who wouldn’t dance?
NURSE:
I know not.
NURSE:
I don’t know.
JUL:
Go ask his name.—If he be married,
My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
JUL:
Go ask his name. if he is married,
My grave is likely to be my wedding-bed.
NURSE:
His name is Romeo, and a Montague,(145)
The only son of your great enemy.
NURSE:
His name is Romeo, and a Montague;
The only son of your great enemy.
JUL:
My only love, sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
Prodigious birth of love it is to me
That I must love a loathed enemy.(150)
JUL:
My only love sprung from my only hate!
Seen too early as an unknown, and now known too late!
It is a monstrous birth of love to me,
That I must love a loathéd enemy.
NURSE:
What's this? what's this?
NURSE:
What's this? What's this?
JUL:
A rhyme I learn'd even now
Of one I danc'd withal.
JUL:
A rhyme I learned even now
From someone I couldn’t dance with.

One calls within ‘Juliet.’

NURSE:
Anon, anon!
Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.(155)
NURSE:
Again, again!
Come, let's go; all the strangers are gone.

Exeunt.