The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (1018 page)

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. I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

Juliet

The light you see is not daylight, but some meteor from the sun to light up the night for you to make your way to Mantua.  You still have time; don’t leave.

Yond light is not daylight, I know it, I: It is some meteor that the sun exhales To be to thee this night a torch-bearer And light thee on the way to Mantua: Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not to be gone.

Romeo

Let them take me then and put me to death, if that’s what you want.  I am content to stay with you.  I will agree with you that the approaching light is not morning or the song we here comes from the lark.  I would rather stay than go, no matter what happens.  So, let’s talk.

Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death; I am content, so thou wilt have it so. I'll say yon gray is not the morning's eye, 'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow; 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.

Juliet

No, you’re right.  It is day.  Leave quickly!  It is the lark singing the song that separates us.  I hate the sound.  Some say that the lark and toad traded eyes. I wish they had traded voices, too, since that voice represents our parting.  Now, go.  It is growing lighter and they will be hunting for you.

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: Some say the lark and loathed toad change 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.

Romeo

The more light that comes, the darker we feel.

More light and light,--more dark and dark our woes!

(Enter Nurse.)

Nurse

Madam!

Madam!

Juliet

Nurse?

Nurse?

Nurse

Your mother is coming.  Day is broken.  Look out.

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

(Exit.)

Juliet

You must go out the window.

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

Romeo

Farewell, farewell.  One more kiss, and I’ll go.

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

 (Descends.)

Juliet

Are you gone my love, my life, my friend?  I must hear from you every minute of every day.  It will be years before we are together again.

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

Romeo

Goodbye.  I will send word and my love every chance I get.

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

Juliet

Do you think we will ever meet again?

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

Romeo

I have no doubt.  All these terrible things will be mere memories for us to share in our old age.

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

Juliet

Oh God!  I feel like I am looking at you at the bottom of your tomb.  Either my eyes are playing tricks on me, or you look really pale.

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: Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.

Romeo

Trust me, love, you look pale, too.  Our sadness makes us sick.  Goodbye, goodbye!

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

(Exit Romeo.)

Juliet

Oh strange fate!  What are you doing to him?  If you are fickle, please send him back soon.

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

Lady Capulet

(From inside.)  Hello, daughter!  Are you up?

[Within.] Ho, daughter! are you up?

Juliet

Who is it?  Is it my mother?  She never stays up so late or gets up so early.  What does she want?

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

(Enter Lady Capulet.)

Lady Capulet

What’s wrong, Juliet?

Why, how now, Juliet?

Juliet

I don’t feel well.

Madam, I am not well.

Lady Capulet

Are you still crying over your cousin’s death?  You can’t bring him back with tears.  And, if you could, you couldn’t keep him alive. So, stop crying.  A little grief is okay, but too much is ridiculous.

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

Juliet

I am crying because I feel a great loss.

Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.

Lady Capulet

You feel a loss, but Tybalt feels nothing.

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

Juliet

I feel like I will cry forever.

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

Lady Capulet

You are crying because of Tybalt’s death and because his murderer is still alive.

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

Juliet

What murderer, madam?

What villain, madam?

Lady Capulet

Romeo.

That same villain Romeo.

Juliet

(To herself.)  He is not a murderer or a villain.  God forgive him.  I know I do, with all of my heart.  My heart aches for him.

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

Lady Capulet

Because the murderer is alive.

That is because the traitor murderer lives.

Juliet

Yes, ma’am.  I would kill him myself, if I could put my hands on him.

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

Lady Capulet

Don’t worry.  We will have our revenge.  Don’t cry anymore.  I am going to send someone to Mantua, where Romeo is and have him dealt with.  Then, you’ll feel better.

We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not: 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.

Juliet

I will never be okay, until I see Romeo dead.  If you could find someone to take him a poison, I would mix it myself.  My heart hates to hear his name and not be able to go after him.  I want to take out my frustrations on his body.

 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, 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!

Lady Capulet

If you could find a way, I’ll find the man.  But now, I have some great news.

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

Juliet

I need some good news.  What is it?  Tell me.

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

Lady Capulet

Well, you know you have a very wise father.  He wants to help you get over Tybalt’s death with a joyous occasion you haven’t even thought about.

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

Juliet

Madam, tell me quickly, on what day is it?

Madam, in happy time, what day is that?

Lady Capulet

Thursday morning, you will marry the noble Paris at St. Peter’s Church.

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

Juliet

I will not marry him.  What is the hurry?  He hasn’t even asked me out.  Please, tell my father I would rather marry Romeo, whom you know I hate, than marry Paris.

Now by Saint Peter's Church, and Peter too, He shall not make me there a joyful bride. 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, Rather than Paris:--these are news indeed!

Lady Capulet

Well, here comes your father.  You can tell him yourself and see how he takes it.

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

(Enter Capulet and Nurse.)

Capulet

When the sun sets, dew comes, but on the night of my brother’s son’s death, it rains.  What is wrong now, girl?  Are you still crying?  You must be a fountain with all the tears you’ve shed.  You must calm down.  Have you told her the news?  

When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew; But for the sunset of my brother's son It rains downright.-- How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? Evermore showering? In one little body Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind: For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea, 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! Have you deliver'd to her our decree?

Lady Capulet

Yes sir, I told her.  But she won’t hear of it.  She says no thanks!  I wish she were dead.

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

Capulet

Don’t say that.  I don’t understand.  How can she be so ungrateful?  Does she not have any pride?  Doesn’t she know how blessed she is to be able to marry such a gentleman?

Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife. How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks? Is she not proud? doth she not count her bles'd, Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?

Juliet

I am not proud of whom you have found, but I am thankful that you cared so much to look.  I know you meant it lovingly, but I do not have to love what you did.

Not proud you have; but thankful that you have: Proud can I never be of what I hate; But thankful even for hate that is meant love.

Capulet

What?  What logic are you using?  Proud, and I thank you, and I thank you not.  Regardless of how you feel, you are going to be married Thursday at Saint Peter’s Church, even if I have to drag you there.  Now, get out of here, you sick girl.  

How now, how now, chop-logic! 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, 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!

Lady Capulet

Have you lost your mind?

Fie, fie! what, are you mad?

Juliet

Please, father!  I am begging you!  Hear me out.