Romeo and Juliet Text and Translation - Act III

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Act III

Scene I

Original Text Modern Translation

A public place.

Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, and Men.

BEN:
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.
BEN:
Please, good Mercutio, let's go home.
The day is hot, the Capulets are wandering around,
And, if we meet, we shall not escape a brawl,
Because now, during these hot days, the mad blood is flowing.
MER:
Thou art like one of these fellows that, when he enters(5)
the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the
table and says ‘God send me no need of thee!’ and by the
operation of the second cup draws him on the drawer,
when indeed there is no need.(10)
MER:
You are like one of these fellows that, when he enters the
bar, throws his sword upon the table, and says
”God, I don’t want to use you!” and by the time he’s drunk the second
cup draws the sword on the table, when, indeed, there is no need.
BEN:
Am I like such a fellow?
BEN:
Am I like such a fellow?
MER:
Come, come, thou art as hot a jack in thy mood as any
in Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon
moody to be moved.
MER:
Come on, you are as hot as any fellow in your mood as anyone else in
Italy; and you are soon moved to be moody, and soon moody to be
moved.
BEN:
And what to?(15)
BEN:
And to what?
MER:
Nay, an there were two such, we should have none
shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why, thou
wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more or a hair
less in his beard than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a
man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but be(20)
cause thou hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye
would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quar
rels as an egg is full of meat; and yet thy head hath been
beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling. Thou hast quar
rell'd with a man for coughing in the street, because he(25)
hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun.
Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new
doublet before Easter, with another for tying his new
shoes with an old riband? And yet thou wilt tutor me
from quarrelling!(30)
MER:
No, if there were two such fellows, we should have none shortly, because
one would kill the other. You! Why, you will quarrel with a
man that has a hair more or a hair less in his beard than you
have. You will quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no
other reason but because you have hazel eyes; what eye but such
an eye as you have would seek out such a quarrel? Your head is as full of
quarrels as an egg is full of meat; and your head has even been
beaten like a rotten egg for quarrelling. You have quarreled
with a man for coughing in the street, because he woke up
your dog that was asleep in the sun. Didn’t you fall
out with a tailor for wearing his new suit before Easter?
And with another tailor for tying his new shoes with an old blue silk ribbon? And yet you
will teach me to avoid quarrelling?!
BEN:
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.
BEN:
If I were so easy to quarrel as you are, any man should buy
the inherited estate of my life for an hour and a quarter.
MER:
The fee simple? O simple!
MER:
The inherited estate! O how honest!

Enter Tybalt and others.

BEN:
By my head, here come the Capulets.(35)
BEN:
By my head, here come the Capulets.
MER:
By my heel, I care not.
MER:
By my heel, I care not.
TYB:
Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
Gentlemen, good den. A word with one of you.
TYB:
Follow me close, because I will speak to them. Gentlemen, good evening
a word with one of you.
MER:
And but one word with one of us?
Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.(40)
MER:
Only one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make
it a word and a blow.
TYB:
You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will
give me occasion.
TYB:
You shall find me easy enough for that, sir, if you will give
me the opportunity.
MER:
Could you not take some occasion without giving?
MER:
Couldn’t you take some opportunity without my giving you one?
TYB:
Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo.
TYB:
Mercutio, you hang out with Romeo,
MER:
Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? An(45)
thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but
discords. Here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make
you dance. Zounds, consort!
MER:
Hang out! what, do you make us musicians? If you make
us musicians, look to hear nothing but noise. Here's my
fiddlestick! Here's what will make you dance. God’s wounds, hang out!
BEN:
We talk here in the public haunt of men.
Either withdraw unto some private place(50)
And reason coldly of your grievances,
Or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us.
BEN:
We’re talking here in a public place.
Either move into some private place,
And reason out your grievances cooly,
Or else leave; here, all eyes gaze on us.
MER:
Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze.
I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.
MER:
Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;
I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Enter Romeo.

TYB:
Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man.(55)
TYB:
Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man.
MER:
But I'll be hang'd, sir, if he wear your livery.
Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower!
Your worship in that sense may call him man.
MER:
But I'll be hanged, sir, if he will put up with your insults.
By Mary, go before him to field, he'll be your follower.
Your honor, in that sense, may call him a man.
TYB:
Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford
No better term than this: thou art a villain.(60)
TYB:
Romeo, the love I have for you can give
Me no better term to call you than this. you are a villain.
ROM:
Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting. Villain am I none.
Therefore farewell. I see thou knowest me not.
ROM:
Tybalt, the reason that I have to love you
Does excuse very much the rage that is appropriate
For such a greeting. I am not a villain.
Therefore, farewell. I see that you don’t know me.
TYB:
Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries(65)
That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
TYB:
Boy, this walking away shall not excuse the injuries
That you have done to me; therefore, turn and draw your sword.
ROM:
I do protest I never injur'd thee,
But love thee better than thou canst devise
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love;
And so good Capulet, which name I tender(70)
As dearly as mine own, be satisfied.
ROM:
I protest! I never injured you,
But love you better than you can possibly imagine,
Until you know the reason for my love.
And so, good Capulet which name I respect
As dearly as my own. Be satisfied.
MER:
O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
Alla stoccata carries it away.

Draws.

Tybalt, you ratcatcher, will you walk?
MER:
O calm, dishonorable, vile submission!
To choke carries it away.

Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk away?

TYB:
What would'st thou have with me?(75)
TYB:
What would you have with me?
MER:
Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine lives.
That I mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use
me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you
pluck your sword out of his pitcher by the ears? Make
haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.(80)
MER:
Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives, that I
intend to be bold besides, and, as you shall use me hereafter,
severely beat the rest of the eight lives out of you. Will you pluck your sword out of
its holder by the handle? Hurry up, for fear my sword will be about your ears
before you get yours out.
TYB:
I am for you.
TYB:
I am for you.

Draws.

ROM:
Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
ROM:
Gentle Mercutio, put up your sword.
MER:
Come, sir, your passado!
MER:
Come, sir, your forward thrust.

They fight.

ROM:
Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.
Gentlemen, for shame! forbear this outrage!(85)
Tybalt, Mercutio, the Prince expressly hath
Forbid this bandying in Verona streets.
Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!
ROM:
Draw, Benvolio. Make them put down their weapons.
Gentlemen, for shame! control this anger!
Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince has expressly
Forbidden this fighting in Verona streets.
Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!

Tybalt under Romeo's arm thrusts Mercutio in, and flies with his Followers.

MER:
I am hurt.
A plague o’ both your houses! I am sped.(90)
Is he gone and hath nothing?
MER:
I am hurt;
A plague on both your houses! I am finished.
Is he gone, and he has nothing?
BEN:
What, art thou hurt?
BEN:
What, are you hurt?
MER:
Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry, 'tis enough.
Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.

Exit Page.

MER:
Yes, yes, a scratch, a scratch; by Mary, it’s enough.
Where is my page? Go, villain, get a doctor.
ROM:
Courage, man. The hurt cannot be much.(95)
ROM:
Courage, man; the injury can’t be much.
MER:
No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church
door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve. Ask for me to-morrow,
and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I
warrant, for this world. A plague o’ both your houses!
Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to(100)
death! a braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the
book of arithmetic! Why the devil came you between
us? I was hurt under your arm.
MER:
No, it’s not as deep as a well, or as wide as a church door;
but it’s enough, it will do. Ask for me tomorrow, and you
shall find me a grave man. I am not long, I guarantee, for this
world. A plague on both your houses! God’s wounds! A dog, a rat, a
mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a
villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic! [to Romeo] Why the devil
did you come between us? I was hurt under your arm.
ROM:
I thought all for the best.
ROM:
I thought it was all for the best.
MER:
Help me into some house, Benvolio,(105)
Or I shall faint. A plague o’ both your houses!
They have made worms’ meat of me. I have it,
And soundly too. Your houses!

Exit, supported by Benvolio.

MER:
Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint. A plague on both your houses!
They have made meat for the worms out meat of me.
I have had it, and soundly too. Your houses!
ROM:
This gentleman, the Prince's near ally,
My very friend, hath got this mortal hurt(110)
In my behalf—my reputation stain'd
With Tybalt's slander—Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my kinsman. O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate
And in my temper soft'ned valour's steel(115)
ROM:
This gentleman, the prince's near ally,
My very friend, has gotten his fatal wound
On my behalf. My reputation stained
By Tybalt's slander, Tybalt, that has been
My kinsman for an hour. O sweet Juliet,
Your beauty has turned me into a woman,
And, in my temper, softened bravery’s sword.

Enter Benvolio.

BEN:
O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!
That gallant spirit hath aspir’d the clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
BEN:
O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio is dead!
That gallant spirit has gone into the clouds,
Which saw an untimely death here on earth.
ROM:
This day's black fate on more days doth depend;(120)
This but begins the woe others must end.
ROM:
This day's black fate depends on the days that follow.
This murder only begins the sorrow that others must end.

Enter Tybalt.

BEN:
Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
BEN:
Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
ROM:
Alive in triumph, and Mercutio slain?
Away to heaven respective lenity,
And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now!(125)
Now, Tybalt, take the ‘villain’ back again
That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company.
Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.(130)
ROM:
Alive in triumph! And Mercutio slain!
Gentleness, go away to heaven,
And fire-eyed fury be my guide now!
Now, Tybalt, take back again the word “villain”
That you just gave me; for Mercutio's soul
Is only a little way above our heads,
Waiting for yours to keep him company.
Either you or I, or both of us, must go with him.
TYB:
Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,
Shalt with him hence.
TYB:
You, wretched boy, that hung out with him here,
Will be with him there.
ROM:
This shall determine that.
ROM:
This fight shall determine that.

They fight. Tybalt falls.

BEN:
Romeo, away, be gone!
The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.(135)
Stand not amaz'd. The Prince will doom thee death
If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away!
BEN:
Romeo, leave, be gone!
The citizens are up, and Tybalt is dead.
Don’t stand there in shock. The prince will sentence you to death
If you are taken prisoner. Get going, get out of here, leave!
ROM:
O, I am fortune's fool!
ROM:
O, I am fool for the goddess of luck!
BEN:
Why dost thou stay?

Exit Romeo.

BEN:
Why do you stay?

Enter Citizens.

CITIZEN:
Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?(140)
Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?
CITIZEN:
Which way did he who killed Mercutio run?
Tybalt, that murderer, which way did he run?
BEN:
There lies that Tybalt.
BEN:
There lies that same Tybalt.
CITIZEN:
Up, sir, go with me.
I charge thee in the Prince's name obey.
CITIZEN:
Come on, sir, go with me;
I charge you, in the prince's name, to obey.

Enter Prince (attended), Old Montague, Capulet, their Wives, and others.

PRINCE:
Where are the vile beginners of this fray?(145)
PRINCE:
Where are the wicked beginners of this fight?
BEN:
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.
BEN:
O noble prince. I can tell you all about
The unlucky management of this fatal brawl.
There lies the man slain by young Romeo,
That killed your kinsman, brave Mercutio.
LADY CAP:
Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!(150)
O Prince! O husband! O, the blood is spill'd
Of my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.
O cousin, cousin!
LADY CAP:
Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!
O prince! O husband! O, the blood of my dear kinsman
is spilled! Prince, as you are true,
For blood of ours shed blood of Montague.
O cousin, cousin!
PRINCE:
Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?(155)
PRINCE:
Benvolio, who began this bloody fight?
BEN:
Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay.
Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal
Your high displeasure. All this, uttered
With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd,(160)
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(165)
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,(170)
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,(175)
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.(180)
BEN:
Tybalt, here killed, who was slain by Romeo’s hand.
Romeo spoke nicely to him, asked him to consider
How silly the quarrel was, and in addition, advised him of
Your high displeasure. All these things, uttered
With gentle breath, calm look, and knees humbly bent,
Could not stop the fight with Tybalt’s
Violent whim. He was deaf to peace, but then he rushes
With his piercing sword at bold Mercutio's breast;
Who, as angry as Tybalt, returns deadly blows point to point,
And, with a war-like grin, with one hand beats
Cold death aside, and with the other sends
It back to Tybalt, whose mental skills
Returns it. Romeo cries aloud,
”Stop, friends! Friends, move away!” and swifter than his words,
His agile arm beats down their fatal maneuvers,
And between them, rushes, underneath whose arm
An jealous thrust from Tybalt took the life
Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled.
But by-and-by, he comes back to Romeo,
Who had only now thought about getting revenge,
And they go at it like lightning, because before I
Could draw to separate them, stout Tybalt was killed,
And as he fell, Romeo turned and fled.
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
LADY CAP:
He is a kinsman to the Montague;
Affection makes him false, he speaks not true.
Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
And all those twenty could but kill one life.
I beg for justice, which thou, Prince, must give.(185)
Romeo slew Tybalt; Romeo must not live.
LADY CAP:
He is a kinsman to the Montague,
Affection makes him lie. He doesn’t speak the truth.
Some twenty of them fought in this black fight,
And all those twenty could only take one life.
I beg for justice, which you, prince, must give;
Romeo killed Tybalt. Romeo must not live.
PRINCE:
Romeo slew him; he slew Mercutio.
Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
PRINCE:
Romeo killed him; he killed Mercutio.
Who now owes the price of his dear blood?
MON:
Not Romeo, Prince; he was Mercutio's friend;
His fault concludes but what the law should end,(190)
The life of Tybalt.
MON:
Not Romeo, prince; he was Mercutio's friend;
His mistake finishes only what the law should end,
The life of Tybalt.
PRINCE:
And for that offence
Immediately we do exile him hence.
I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie ableeding;(195)
But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine
That you shall all repent the loss of mine.
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;
Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses.
Therefore use none. Let Romeo hence in haste,(200)
Else, when he is found, that hour is his last.
Bear hence this body, and attend our will.
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.

Exeunt.

PRINCE:
And for that offence
We immediately exile him from here.
I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,
My blood for your rude brawls lies there bleeding;
But I'll punish you with so strong a fine
That you shall all repent my loss.
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses,
Nor shall tears or prayers buy your way out.
Therefore, use none. Let Romeo go quickly away from here,
Or else, when he is found, that hour is his last.
Bear this body away, and wait for our instructions.
Mercy only murders us, pardoning those that kill.

Scene II

Original Text Modern Translation

Capulet's orchard.

Enter Juliet alone.

JUL:
Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phoebus’ lodging! Such a wagoner
As Phaeton would whip you to the west
And bring in cloudy night immediately.
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,(5)
That runaway eyes may wink, and Romeo
Leap to these arms untalk'd of and unseen.
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
By their own beauties; or, if love be blind,(10)
It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
And learn me how to lose a winning match,
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods.
Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,(15)
With thy black mantle till strange love, grown bold,
Think true love acted simple modesty.
Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back.(20)
Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night;
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night(25)
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not possess'd it; and though I am sold,
Not yet enjoy'd. So tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival(30)
To an impatient child that hath new robes
And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,
And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks
But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.

Enter Nurse, with cords.

Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords(35)
That Romeo bid thee fetch?
JUL:
Gallop quickly, you horses with fiery flames for feet,
Towards the Sun god’s house. Such a wagon driver
As Phaeton (the son of the Sun god) would whip you to the west
And bring in a cloudy night immediately.
Close your curtain, love-performing night, so
That rude eyes may look away, and Romeo can
Leap to these arms, un-talked about and unseen.
Lovers can see to do their love making
By their own beauties. or, if love is blind,
It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
You sober-suited matron, all in black,
And teach me how to lose a winning match,
Played for a pair of stainless maidens.
Conceal my virgin blood, fluttering in my cheeks,
With your black mantle, until unknown love, grown bold,
Thinks that true love is an act of simple modesty.
Come, night. Come, Romeo. come, you day in night;
For you will lie upon the wings of night,
Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back.
Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-browed night,
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the glaring sun.
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But I have not moved in, and, though I am sold,
I have not yet been enjoyed. So boring this day is,
As the night before some festival is
To an impatient child that has new clothes,
And can’t wear them. O, here comes my nurse,
And she brings news, and every tongue that speaks
Only Romeo's name, speaks with heavenly eloquence

Now, nurse, what news? What have you got there? The ropes
That Romeo asked you to fetch?

NURSE:
Ay, ay, the cords.
NURSE:
Yes, yes, the ropes.

Throws them down.

JUL:
Ay me! what news? Why dost thou wring thy hands?
JUL:
Ah me! What news? Why are you wringing your hands?
NURSE:
Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!
We are undone, lady, we are undone!(40)
Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!
NURSE:
Ah, alas! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!
We are ruined, lady, we are ruined!
Shame on this day! he's gone, he's killed, he's dead!
JUL:
Can heaven be so envious?
JUL:
Can heaven be so jealous?
NURSE:
Romeo can,
Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo!
Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!(45)
NURSE:
Romeo can,
Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo!
Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!
JUL:
What devil art thou that dost torment me thus?
This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but ‘I,’
And that bare vowel ‘I’ shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice.(50)
I am not I, if there be such an ‘I’;
Or those eyes shut that make thee answer ‘I.’
If he be slain, say ‘I’; or if not, ‘no.’
Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
JUL:
What devil are you that torments me like this?
This torture should make a loud noise in dismal hell.
Has Romeo killed himself? You say only “I,”
And I shall poison that bare vowel more
Than the death-darting eye of the serpent hatched from an egg.
I am not “I,” if there be such an “I,”
Or those eyes shut that make you answer “I.”
If he is slain, say “I;” or if not, say “No.”
Brief sounds determine my wealth or sorrows.
NURSE:
I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,(55)
(God save the mark!) here on his manly breast.
A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;
Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,
All in gore-blood. I swounded at the sight.
NURSE:
I saw the wound. I saw it with my own eyes,
God save the mark! here on his manly breast.
A piteous corpse, a bloody piteous corpse;
Pale, pale as ashes, all covered in blood,
All in gory blood; I fainted at the sight.
JUL:
O, break, my heart! poor bankrout, break at once!(60)
To prison, eyes; ne'er look on liberty!
Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here,
And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!
JUL:
O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once!
Eyes, go to prison. Never look on freedom!
Evil earth, die; end all motion here;
And you and Romeo lay in a heavy tomb!
NURSE:
O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!
O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman(65)
That ever I should live to see thee dead!
NURSE:
O Tybalt, Tybalt! The best friend I had!
O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!
That I should ever live to see you dead!
JUL:
What storm is this that blows so contrary?
Is Romeo slaught'red, and is Tybalt dead?
My dear-lov'd cousin, and my dearer lord?
Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!(70)
For who is living, if those two are gone?
JUL:
What kind of storm is this that blows so opposed to nature?
Is Romeo slaughtered, and is Tybalt dead?
My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord?
Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!
For who is living, if those two are gone?
NURSE:
Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;
Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.
NURSE:
Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;
Romeo killed him; he is banished.
JUL:
O God! Did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?
JUL:
O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?
NURSE:
It did, it did! alas the day, it did!(75)
NURSE:
It did, it did; shame the day, it did!
JUL:
O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring face!
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!
Despised substance of divinest show!(80)
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st—
A damned saint, an honourable villain!
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?(85)
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!
JUL:
O serpent heart, hidden by a handsome face!
Did a dragon ever keep so beautiful a cave?
Beautiful tyrant! Fiend angelical!
Dove-feathered raven! Wolfish-rabid lamb!
Despised substance of the most divine show!
Just opposite to what you justly seem,
A damned saint, an honorable villain!
O nature, what did you have to do in hell
When you sheltered the spirit of a fiend
In a deadly paradise of such sweet flesh?
Was there ever a book containing such vile matter
So beautifully bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!
NURSE:
There's no trust,
No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur'd,(90)
All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
Ah, where's my man? Give me some aqua vitae.
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
Shame come to Romeo!
NURSE:
There's no trust,
No faith, no honesty in men; all are liars,
All swear falsely, all nothing, all deceivers.
Ah, where's my man? Give me some whiskey.
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
Shame come to Romeo!
JUL:
Blister'd be thy tongue(95)
For such a wish! He was not born to shame.
Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit;
For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd
Sole monarch of the universal earth.
O, what a beast was I to chide at him!(100)
JUL:
Your tongue should be blistered
For such a wish! He was not born to shame.
Upon his brow, shame is ashamed to sit;
For it’s a throne where honor may be crowned
The only king of the universal earth.
O, what a beast was I to scold him!
NURSE:
Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin?
NURSE:
Will you speak well of him that killed your cousin?
JUL:
Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name
When I, thy three-hours’ wife, have mangled it?
But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?(105)
That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband.
Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring!
Your tributary drops belong to woe,
Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.
My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain;(110)
And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband.
All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?
Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,
That murdered me. I would forget it fain;
But O, it presses to my memory(115)
Like damned guilty deeds to sinners’ minds!
‘Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished.’
That ‘banished,’ that one word ‘banished,’
Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death
Was woe enough, if it had ended there;(120)
Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship
And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,
Why followed not, when she said ‘Tybalt's dead,’
Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,
Which modern lamentation might have mov'd?(125)
But with a rearward following Tybalt's death,
‘Romeo is banished’— to speak that word
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All slain, all dead. ‘Romeo is banished’—
There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,(130)
In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.
Where is my father and my mother, nurse?
JUL:
Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall clear your name,
When I, your wife for three hours, have mangled it?
But why, villain, did you kill my cousin?
That villain cousin would have killed my husband.
Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring.
Your drops of tribute belong to sorrow,
Which you, mistaken, have offered up to joy.
My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain,
And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband.
All this is comfort. why do I weep then?
Some word there was, worse than Tybalt's death,
That murdered me. I would gladly forget it,
But, O, it presses into my memory
Like damned guilty deeds press into sinners' minds.
“Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished.”
That “banished,” that one word “banished,”
Has killed ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death
Was sorrow enough, if it had ended there.
Or, if misery loves company,
And necessarily will be ranked with other sorrows,
Why didn’t it follow, when she said, “Tybalt's dead,”
Your father, or your mother, no, or both,
Which modern grief might have moved me?
But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death,
”Romeo is banished.” To speak that word
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All slain, all dead. “Romeo is banished.”
There is no end, no limit, measure, or boundary,
In that word's death. No words can that sorrow ease.
Where are my father and my mother, nurse?
NURSE:
Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse.
Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.
NURSE:
Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corpse.
Will you go to them? I will bring you there.
JUL:
Wash they his wounds with tears? Mine shall be spent,(135)
When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.
Take up those cords. Poor ropes, you are beguil'd,
Both you and I, for Romeo is exil'd.
He made you for a highway to my bed;
But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.(140)
Come, cords; come, Nurse. I'll to my wedding bed;
And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!
JUL:
They wash his wounds with tears. My tears shall be spent,
When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.
Take up those ropes. Poor ropes, you are deceived,
Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled.
He made you to be a highway to my bed;
But I, a maid, die a maiden and a widow.
Come, ropes; come, nurse; I'll go to my wedding-bed.
And death, not Romeo, take my virginity!
NURSE:
Hie to your chamber. I'll find Romeo
To comfort you. I wot well where he is.
Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night.(145)
I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence’ cell.
NURSE:
Hurry to your chamber. I'll find Romeo
To comfort you. I know well where he is.
You listen: your Romeo will be here at night.
I'll go to him; he is hidden at Lawrence' cell.
JUL:
O, find him! give this ring to my true knight
And bid him come to take his last farewell.

Exeunt.

JUL:
O, find him! Give this ring to my true knight,
And bid him come to take his last farewell.

Scene III

Original Text Modern Translation

Friar Laurence's Cell.

[Enter Friar Laurence]

FRIAR:
Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man.
Affliction is enamour’d of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.
FRIAR:
Romeo, come here; come here, you fearful man.
Affliction is in love of your parts,
And you are married to calamity.

Enter Romeo.

ROM:
Father, what news? What is the Prince's doom?
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand(5)
That I yet know not?
ROM:
Father, what news? What is the prince's sentence?
What sorrow craves to know me at my hand,
That I don’t know yet?
FRIAR:
Too familiar
Is my dear son with such sour company.
I bring thee tidings of the Prince's doom.
FRIAR:
My dear son is
Too familiar with such sour company.
I bring you news of the prince's sentence.
ROM:
What less than doomsday is the Prince's doom?(10)
ROM:
What less than the end of the world is the prince's sentence?
FRIAR:
A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips—
Not body's death, but body's banishment.
FRIAR:
A gentler judgment vanished from his lips,
Not your body's death, but your body's banishment.
ROM:
Ha, banishment? Be merciful, say ‘death’;
For exile hath more terror in his look,
Much more than death. Do not say ‘banishment.’(15)
ROM:
What, banishment? be merciful, say death;
For exile has more terror in his look,
Much more than death; do not say banishment.
FRIAR:
Hence from Verona art thou banished.
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
FRIAR:
You are banished away from Verona.
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
ROM:
There is no world without Verona walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence banished is banish'd from the world,(20)
And world's exile is death. Then ‘banishment’
Is death misterm'd. Calling death ‘banishment,’
Thou cut'st my head off with a golden axe
And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.
ROM:
There is no world without Verona walls,
Only purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Banished away from here is banished from the world,
And world's exile is death, then “banished”
Is death misnamed. Calling death banishment,
You cut my head off with a golden axe,
And smile on the stroke that murders me.
FRIAR:
O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!(25)
Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind Prince,
Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law,
And turn'd that black word death to banishment.
This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
FRIAR:
O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
Your fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,
Taking your part, has brushed aside the law,
And turned that black word “death” to banishment.
This is dear mercy, and you don’t see it.
ROM:
'Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here,(30)
Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her;
But Romeo may not. More validity,
More honourable state, more courtship lives(35)
In carrion flies than Romeo. They may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand
And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;(40)
But Romeo may not— he is banished.
This may flies do, when I from this must fly;
They are free men, but I am banished.
And sayest thou yet that exile is not death?
Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife,(45)
No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
But ‘banished’ to kill me—‘banished’?
O friar, the damned use that word in hell;
Howling attends it! How hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,(50)
A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
To mangle me with that word ‘banished’?
ROM:
It’s torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here,
Where Juliet lives, and every cat, and dog,
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven, and may look on her;
But Romeo may not. More legal authority,
More honorable state, more courtship lives
In flies on dead meat than Romeo. They may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand,
And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;
But Romeo may not. He is banished.
Flies may do this, when I must fly from this.
And you still say that exile is not death!
Have you no poison mixed, no sharp-ground knife,
No sudden means of death, though never so low,
Only “banished” to kill me, “banished?”
O friar, the damned use that word in hell.
Animals who howl consider it. How have you the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
A sin-absolver, and my openly acknowledged friend,
To mangle me with that word “banishment?”
FRIAR:
Thou fond mad man, hear me a little speak.
FRIAR:
You spoiled madman, hear me speak a little.
ROM:
O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
ROM:
O, you will speak again of banishment.
FRIAR:
I'll give thee armour to keep off that word;(55)
Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
FRIAR:
I'll give you armor to fight off that word.
Problems’ sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort you, though you are banished.
ROM:
Yet ‘banished’? Hang up philosophy!
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,(60)
It helps not, it prevails not. Talk no more.
ROM:
Again “banished?” Stop with the philosophy!
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Uproot a town, reverse a prince's sentence,
It doesn’t help, it doesn’t succeed. Talk no more.
FRIAR:
O, then I see that madmen have no ears.
FRIAR:
O, then I see that madmen have no ears.
ROM:
How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?
ROM:
How should they, when wise men have no eyes?
FRIAR:
Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
FRIAR:
Let me argue with you about your situation.
ROM:
Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel.(65)
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
Doting like me, and like me banished,
Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,
And fall upon the ground, as I do now,(70)
Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
ROM:
You can’t speak about something you don’t feel.
If you were as young as I, Juliet your love,
Married only an hour, Tybalt murdered,
Foolish like me, and, like me, banished,
Then you might speak, then you might tear your hair,
And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
Thinking about an unmade grave.

Knock within.

FRIAR:
Arise; one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself.
FRIAR:
Get up. Some one knocks. Good Romeo, hide yourself.
ROM:
Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,
Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes.
ROM:
Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,
Like a mist wraps me up and hides me from the search of eyes.

Knock.

FRIAR:
Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise;(75)
Thou wilt be taken.— Stay awhile!— Stand up;

Knock.

Run to my study.— By-and-by!— God's will,
What simpleness is this.— I come, I come!

Knock.

Who knocks so hard? Whence come you? What's your will?
FRIAR:
Listen, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, get up.
You’ll be taken prisoner. Wait a while. Stand up. Run to my study. By-and-by! God's will!
What ignorance this is! I’m coming, I’m coming! Who knocks so hard? Where do you come from? What do you want?
NURSE:

Within.

Let me come in, and you shall know my(80)
errand. I come from Lady Juliet.
NURSE:
Let me come in, and you shall know my errand;
I come from Lady Juliet.
FRIAR:
Welcome, then.
FRIAR:
Welcome then.

Enter Nurse.

NURSE:
O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,
Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo?
NURSE:
O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,
Where is my lady's lord? Where's Romeo?
FRIAR:
There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.(85)
FRIAR:
There on the ground, made drunk with his own tears.
NURSE:
O, he is even in my mistress’ case,
Just in her case!
NURSE:
O, it’s the same in my mistress' case,
Just in her case!
FRIAR:
O woeful sympathy!
Piteous predicament!
FRIAR:
O sad sympathy!
Pitiful situation!
NURSE:
Even so lies she,(90)
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
Stand up, stand up! Stand, an you be a man.
For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand!
Why should you fall into so deep an O?
NURSE:
She lies the same way,
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
Stand up, stand up; stand, if you’re a man.
For Juliet's sake, for her sake, get up and stand up;
Why should you fall into so deep an “O?”
ROM:

Rises.

Nurse—(95)
ROM:
Nurse!
NURSE:
Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all.
NURSE:
Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of us all.
ROM:
Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her?
Doth not she think me an old murderer,
Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy
With blood remov'd but little from her own?(100)
Where is she? and how doth she? and what says
My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love?
ROM:
Did you speak of Juliet? How is it with her?
Doesn’t she think I’m an old murderer,
Now I have stained the beginning of our joy
With blood from a close relative?
Where is she? And how is she doing? And what says
My hidden lady to our canceled love?
NURSE:
O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;
And now falls on her bed, and then starts up,
And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,(105)
And then down falls again.
NURSE:
O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;
And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,
And calls Tybalt, and then cries over Romeo,
And then falls down again.
ROM:
As if that name,
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand
Murdered her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me,(110)
In what vile part of this anatomy
Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack
The hateful mansion.
ROM:
As if that name of Romeo,
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Murdered her the same way as that name's cursed hand
Murdered her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me,
In what vile part of this anatomy
Does my name live? Tell me, that I may rip
The hateful mansion apart.

Draws his dagger.

FRIAR:
Hold thy desperate hand.
Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art;(115)
Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote
The unreasonable fury of a beast.
Unseemly woman in a seeming man!
Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
Thou hast amaz'd me. By my holy order,(120)
I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
Hast thou slain Tybalt? Wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay thy lady that in thy life lives,
By doing damned hate upon thyself?
Why railest thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?(125)
Since birth and heaven and earth, all three do meet
In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose.
Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit,
Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all,
And usest none in that true use indeed(130)
Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit.
Thy noble shape is but a form of wax
Digressing from the valour of a man;
Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,
Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish;(135)
Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Misshapen in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask,
Is set afire by thine own ignorance,
And thou dismemb'red with thine own defence.(140)
What, rouse thee, man! Thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead.
There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou slewest Tybalt. There art thou happy too.
The law, that threat'ned death, becomes thy friend(145)
And turns it to exile. There art thou happy.
A pack of blessings light upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a misbhav'd and sullen wench,
Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love.(150)
Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
Go get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her.
But look thou stay not till the watch be set,
For then thou canst not pass to Mantua,(155)
Where thou shalt live till we can find a time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of the Prince, and call thee back
With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.(160)
Go before, Nurse. Commend me to thy lady,
And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto.
Romeo is coming.
FRIAR:
Hold your desperate hand.
Are you a man? your body cries out you are;
Your tears are womanish; your wild acts resemble
The unreasonable fury of a beast;
Unseemly woman in a seeming man!
Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
You have amazed me. by my holy order,
I thought your disposition was of a better temper.
Have you killed Tybalt? Will you kill yourself?
And kill your lady, too, who lives in you,
By doing damned hate to yourself?
Why do you complain about your birth, the heaven, and earth?
Since birth is heaven and heaven is earth, all three meet
In you at once, which you would lose at once.
For shame, for shame! You shame your shape, your love, your wit,
Which, like a loan shark, abounds in all of us,
And you use nothing in that true use indeed
Which should decorate your shape, your love, your wit.
Your noble shape is only a form of wax,
Deviating from the valor of a man;
Your dear love sworn is empty lies,
Killing that love which you have vowed to cherish;
Your wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Disfigured in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a recruit soldier's flask,
Is set a-fire by your own ignorance,
And you dismembered by your own defense.
What, wake up, man! Your Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake you were but lately dead;
There you are lucky. Tybalt would have killed you,
But you killed Tybalt. There you are lucky too.
The law that threatened you with death becomes your friend
And turns it into exile. There you are lucky.
A pack of blessings settles on your back.
Happiness courts you in her best array;
But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,
You pout about your luck and your love.
Pay attention, pay attention, for such people die miserable.
Go, go to your love, as was decreed,
Ascend to her chamber there, and comfort her.
But, be careful that you don’t stay after the guards are in place,
Because then, you cannot get to Mantua,
Where you shall live until we can find a time
To publicize your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of the prince, and call you back
With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
Than you left here in grief.
Go before, nurse. Commend me to thy lady;
And bid her to hurry the whole house to bed,
Which heavy sorrow makes them more likely to do.
Romeo is coming.
NURSE:
O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night(165)
To hear good counsel. O, what learning is!
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
NURSE:
O Lord, I could have stayed here all the night
To hear good counsel. O, what a great thing learning is!
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
ROM:
Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.
ROM:
Do so, and bid my sweet to prepare to scold me.
NURSE:
Here is a ring she bid me give you, sir.
Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.(170)

Exit.

NURSE:
Here, sir, is a ring she asked me give you, sir.
Hurry up, make haste, for it grows very late.
ROM:
How well my comfort is reviv'd by this!
ROM:
How well my comfort is revived by this!
FRIAR:
Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state:
Either be gone before the watch be set,
Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence.
Sojourn in Mantua. I'll find out your man,(175)
And he shall signify from time to time
Every good hap to you that chances here.
Give me thy hand. 'Tis late. Farewell; good night.
FRIAR:
Go there. Good night! And here is your situation.
Either be gone before the guards are in place,
Or, by the break of day, run away, disguised, from here.
Travel to Mantua. I'll contact your man,
And he shall bring, from time to time,
News to you of every good event that happens here.
Give me your hand. It’s late. Farewell. Good night.
ROM:
But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
It were a grief so brief to part with thee.(180)
Farewell.

Exeunt.

ROM:
Only that a joy beyond joy calls out to me,
It’s a grief so brief to part with you.
Farewell.

Scene IV

Original Text Modern Translation

Capulet's House

[Enter Old Capulet, his Wife, and Paris]

CAP:
Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily
That we have had no time to move our daughter.
Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly,
And so did I. Well, we were born to die.
'Tis very late; she'll not come down to-night.(5)
I promise you, but for your company,
I would have been abed an hour ago.
CAP:
Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily
That we have had no time to talk to our daughter.
Listen, she loved her cousin Tybalt dearly,
And so did I. Well, we were born to die.
It’s very late. She won’t come down tonight.
I promise you, except for your company,
I would have been in bed an hour ago.
PAR:
These times of woe afford no tune to woo.
Madam, good night. Commend me to your daughter.
PAR:
These times of sorrow don’t really give me a chance to pursue love.
Madam, good night. Commend me to your daughter.
LADY:
I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;(10)
To-night she's mew'd up to her heaviness.
LADY:
I will, and I’ll know her mind early tomorrow;
Tonight she's shut up with her grief.
CAP:
Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
Of my child's love. I think she will be rul'd
In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not.
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;(15)
Acquaint her here of my son Paris’ love
And bid her (mark you me?) on Wednesday next—
But, soft! what day is this?
CAP:
Sir Paris, I will make a desperate offer
Of my child's love. I think she will be ruled
By me in all respects, no more, I don’t doubt it.
Wife, go you to her before you go to bed.
Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love;
And bid her, listen carefully, on next Wednesday,
But, my goodness! What day is this?
PAR:
Monday, my lord.
PAR:
Monday, my lord.
CAP:
Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon.(20)
Thursday let it be— a Thursday, tell her
She shall be married to this noble earl.
Will you be ready? Do you like this haste?
We'll keep no great ado— a friend or two;
For hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,(25)
It may be thought we held him carelessly,
Being our kinsman, if we revel much.
Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends,
And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?
CAP:
Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon,
Make it Thursday. On Thursday, tell her,
She shall be married to this noble earl.
Will you be ready? Do you like this speed?
We'll make it a small wedding, a friend or two;
Because, listen, Tybalt’s being killed so recently,
People may think we didn’t care for him,
Being our relative, if we party too much.
So, we'll have some half a dozen friends,
And that’ll be it. But what do say you to Thursday?
PAR:
My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.(30)
PAR:
My lord, I wish that Thursday were tomorrow.
CAP:
Well, get you gone. A Thursday be it then.
Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed;
Prepare her, wife, against this wedding day.
Farewell, my lord.— Light to my chamber, ho!
Afore me, it is so very very late(35)
That we may call it early by-and-by.
Good night.
CAP:
Well, go home. On Thursday, it’ll be then.
Go you to Juliet, before you go to bed.
Prepare her, wife, for this wedding-day.
Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, hey!
I swear that it is so very, very late
That we should call it early by and by.
Good night.

Exeunt.

Scene V

Original Text Modern Translation

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.