The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (1010 page)

Romeo

My heart is here.  Where else can I be?

(He climbs the wall and leaps down within it.)

(Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.)

Benvolio

Romeo!  Where are you?

Romeo! my cousin Romeo!

Mercutio

He is too smart to be here.  He must have gone home and is in bed by now.

He is wise; And, on my life, hath stol'n him home to bed.

Benvolio

I saw him run this way and leap over this orchard wall.  Call him, Mercutio.

He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall: Call, good Mercutio.

Mercutio

I will conjure him up with my magic powers.  Romeo!  Oh, Passionate Lover!  If you are there let us hear a sigh or some rhyme and I will be satisfied.  If you are in a compromising situation, just cry out, “Ah me!  Or, say love and dove.  Cry out to Venus, the goddess of love or to her red-headed son, Cupid, who shoots so well.  Romeo does not hear me.  He does not move.  He must be dead, and I must bring him magically forth.  I call you by the name of the bright-eyed Rosaline with the high forehead and red lips, the fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh, and the area between those thighs.  Appear before us now!

Nay, I'll conjure too.-- Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh: Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; Cry but 'Ah me!' pronounce but Love and dove; Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, One nickname for her purblind son and heir, Young auburn Cupid, he that shot so trim When King Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid!-- He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not; The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.-- I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, By her high forehead and her scarlet lip, By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh, And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, That in thy likeness thou appear to us!

Benvolio

If he hears you, he will be mad.

An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.

Mercutio

He shouldn’t be.  I am speaking truthfully when I conjure him in the name of his beloved.  Now, if I were conjuring a man for her, then he should be angry.

This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle, Of some strange nature, letting it there stand Till she had laid it, and conjur'd it down; That were some spite: my invocation Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress' name, I conjure only but to raise up him.

Benvolio

Come on.  He has hidden himself among these trees.  He is blinded by love so he longs for the dark.

Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, To be consorted with the humorous night: Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.

Mercutio

If love were blind, it would never find someone.  He sits under a tree and wishes his love were its fruit that looks like a woman’s private parts.  Good night, Romeo.  I’m going to my house, to my bed.  This field is too cold for me to sleep upon.  Come on.  Are you ready to go?

If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. Now will he sit under a medlar tree, And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit As maids call medlars when they laugh alone.-- Romeo, good night.--I'll to my truckle-bed; This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep: Come, shall we go?

Benvolio

I’m ready.  It’s pointless to try and find him, if he does not want to be found.

Go then; for 'tis in vain To seek him here that means not to be found.

(Exit all.)

Scene II:  Capulet’s garden.

(Enter Romeo)

Romeo

He laughs at me, but he has never been scarred by love.

He jests at scars that never felt a wound

(Juliet appears above at a window.)

Whose soft light in the window do I see?  Is it the rising sun of the east or my Juliet?  Arise fair sun, and kill the jealous moon.  The moon is jealous of your beauty, so do not be a maid of the moon.  Her virginity is intact and this makes her green with envy.  So do not be a fool, cast off your love—It is my lady; Oh, my love!  I wish she knew how I love her!  She is talking, but I can’t hear her words.  Her eyes are weary, so I will comfort her.  But, maybe she would be offended if I try.  Her eyes twinkle like two of the fairest stars in all the heavens.  How I long to be reflected in those spheres.  It appears the stars have traded places with her eyes, but the brightness of her cheek would outshine the stars.  Like daylight, brighter than a lamp, she brightens the night so that the birds think it is day.  Now, she leans her cheek upon her hand, and I wish I were a glove upon that hand, touching her cheek.

But soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!-- Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green, And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.-- It is my lady; O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were!-- She speaks, yet she says nothing: what of that? Her eye discourses, I will answer it.-- I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright That birds would sing and think it were not night.-- See how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!

Juliet

Ah me!

Ah me!

Romeo

She speaks:  Please speak again, bright angel?  You are as glorious as an angel, flying through the air, upon which mortal eyes gaze.  

She speaks:-- O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air.

Juliet

Oh Romeo, Romeo!  Where are you Romeo?  Do not take the name of your father.  Better yet, I will change my name, if you only swear your love to me.

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Romeo

Do I dare speak or should I listen longer?

Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?

Juliet

It is only your name that is my enemy.  Not you.  What is a Montague?  It is not a hand or foot, arm or face, or any other part of a man.  Why couldn’t you be someone besides a Montague!  What is a name anyway?  Wouldn’t a rose smell just as sweet, if we called it something else?  Wouldn’t you be just as perfect, if your name was different?  Exchange your name, Romeo, and I will give myself to you.

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;-- Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title:--Romeo, doff thy name; And for that name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself.

Romeo

I hope what you say is true.  If you call me your lover, then I will change my name like I have been re-baptized.

I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd; Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

Juliet

Who’s out there?  Who is listening to my private thoughts?

What man art thou that, thus bescreen'd in night, So stumblest on my counsel?

Romeo

I do not know what to call myself, since I hate my name, because it is offensive to you.  If I saw it written on a piece of paper, I would tear it up.

By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am: My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, Because it is an enemy to thee. Had I it written, I would tear the word.

Juliet

Even though we have only just met, I know that voice.  Aren’t you Romeo, a Montague?

My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound; Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?

Romeo

Not any longer, if you don’t want me to be.

Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.

Juliet

Why are you here?  How did you get here?  The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and you will be killed, if you are discovered.

How cam'st thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb; And the place death, considering who thou art, If any of my kinsmen find thee here.

Romeo

On the wings of Cupid, I flew over those walls.  Nothing could keep my love from you, because it gives me strength to do the unthinkable and courage to face your kinsmen.

With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls; For stony limits cannot hold love out: And what love can do, that dares love attempt; Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.

Juliet

If they see you, they will kill you.

If they do see thee, they will murder thee.

Romeo

A harsh look from you would kill me, but twenty of their swords cannot touch me.

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity.

Juliet

I would not have them find you for anything.

I would not for the world they saw thee here.

Romeo

The night hides me from their sight, but if you love me, who cares if they find me?  I would rather die knowing you loved me than live without you.

I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; And, but thou love me, let them find me here. My life were better ended by their hate Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.

Juliet

How did you find me?

By whose direction found'st thou out this place?

Romeo

My love guided me here.  Even though I am not a sailor, I would travel the furthest and most dangerous sea to find you.

By love, that first did prompt me to enquire; He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far As that vast shore wash'd with the furthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise.

Juliet

If the night did not hide my face, you would see me blush.  I did not intend for you to hear my words.  I could deny what I have said, but I can’t.  Do you love me?  I know you will say “yes,” and I will believe you.  You might swear it, and turn out to be a liar.  You know, they say the king of the gods, Jove, laughs when lovers lie to each other.  So don’t lie to me.  If you love me, tell me, but don’t think that I am easy.  Perhaps, I should play hard-to-get, so you have to prove you love me.  However, I’m not that kind of girl.  I am truer than the one who acts evasive.  I probably should have acted that way, but what I have said here tonight is genuine.

Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face; Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. Fain would I dwell on form,fain, fain deny What I have spoke; but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me, I know thou wilt say Ay; And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries, They say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won, I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay, So thou wilt woo: but else, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond; And therefore thou mayst think my 'haviour light: But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be strange. I should have been more strange, I must confess, But that thou overheard'st, ere I was 'ware, My true-love passion: therefore pardon me; And not impute this yielding to light love, Which the dark night hath so discovered.

Romeo

Juliet, I swear by the moon that shines upon these fruit trees…

Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear, That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops,--

Juliet

No, do not swear by the moon, because it is constantly changing.  I don’t want your love to be like the moon.

O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

Romeo

What do you want me to swear by?

What shall I swear by?

Juliet

You don’t have to swear at all.  Your word is good enough.

Do not swear at all; Or if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry, And I'll believe thee.