Original Text |
Translated Text |
| Source: Folger Shakespeare Library |
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NURSE, approaching the bed
Mistress! What, mistress! Juliet!—Fast, I warrant
her, she—
Why, lamb, why, lady! Fie, you slugabed!
Why, love, I say! Madam! Sweetheart! Why, bride!—
What, not a word?—You take your pennyworths 5
now.
Sleep for a week, for the next night, I warrant,
The County Paris hath set up his rest
That you shall rest but little.—God forgive me,
Marry, and amen! How sound is she asleep! 10
I needs must wake her.—Madam, madam, madam!
Ay, let the County take you in your bed,
He’ll fright you up, i’ faith.—Will it not be?
She opens the bed’s curtains.What, dressed, and in your clothes, and down
again? 15
I must needs wake you. Lady, lady, lady!—
Alas, alas! Help, help! My lady’s dead.—
O, weraday, that ever I was born!—
Some aqua vitae, ho!—My lord! My lady! | The Nurse has trouble waking Juliet, which of course inspires her to make a couple of sex jokes. She says Juliet better rest up now, because the Count won't let her rest after the wedding. Then she suggest bringing the Count in to have sex with Juliet—that'd wake up! Finally the Nurse opens the bed curtains and realizes that the bride's case of cold feet has gone a little too far. She screams for Lord and Lady Capulet. |
Enter Lady Capulet. LADY CAPULET
What noise is here? 20 NURSE O lamentable day! LADY CAPULET
What is the matter? NURSE Look, look!—O heavy day! LADY CAPULET
O me! O me! My child, my only life,
Revive, look up, or I will die with thee. 25
Help, help! Call help. | Lady Capulet arrives first and is horrified. If Juliet doesn't wake up she says she'll die with her. |
Enter Capulet. CAPULET
For shame, bring Juliet forth. Her lord is come. NURSE
She’s dead, deceased. She’s dead, alack the day! LADY CAPULET
Alack the day, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead. CAPULET
Ha, let me see her! Out, alas, she’s cold. 30
Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff.
Life and these lips have long been separated.
Death lies on her like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. NURSE
O lamentable day! 35 LADY CAPULET O woeful time! CAPULET
Death, that hath ta’en her hence to make me wail,
Ties up my tongue and will not let me speak. | Capulet enters, complaining that Juliet is taking too long to get ready. When he realizes she's dead, and her body is cold, he doesn't know what to say. He says that death, which took Juliet, took his words as well. |
Enter Friar Lawrence and the County Paris, with
Musicians. FRIAR LAWRENCE
Come, is the bride ready to go to church? | Friar Lawrence arrives on the scene and plays dumb. |
CAPULET
Ready to go, but never to return.— 40
O son, the night before thy wedding day
Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies,
Flower as she was, deflowerèd by him.
Death is my son-in-law; Death is my heir.
My daughter he hath wedded. I will die 45
And leave him all. Life, living, all is Death’s. PARIS
Have I thought long to see this morning’s face,
And doth it give me such a sight as this? LADY CAPULET
Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!
Most miserable hour that e’er time saw 50
In lasting labor of his pilgrimage!
But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
And cruel death hath catched it from my sight! NURSE
O woe, O woeful, woeful, woeful day! 55
Most lamentable day, most woeful day
That ever, ever I did yet behold!
O day, O day, O day, O hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this!
O woeful day, O woeful day! 60 PARIS
Beguiled, divorcèd, wrongèd, spited, slain!
Most detestable death, by thee beguiled,
By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown!
O love! O life! Not life, but love in death! CAPULET
Despised, distressèd, hated, martyred, killed! 65
Uncomfortable time, why cam’st thou now
To murder, murder our solemnity?
O child! O child! My soul and not my child!
Dead art thou! Alack, my child is dead,
And with my child my joys are burièd. 70 | Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris, and the Nurse all take turns lamenting Juliet's death. |
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Peace, ho, for shame! Confusion’s cure lives not
In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
Had part in this fair maid. Now heaven hath all,
And all the better is it for the maid.
Your part in her you could not keep from death, 75
But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
The most you sought was her promotion,
For ’twas your heaven she should be advanced;
And weep you now, seeing she is advanced
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself? 80
O, in this love you love your child so ill
That you run mad, seeing that she is well.
She’s not well married that lives married long,
But she’s best married that dies married young.
Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary 85
On this fair corse, and, as the custom is,
And in her best array, bear her to church,
For though fond nature bids us all lament,
Yet nature’s tears are reason’s merriment. | As they're winding down, Friar Lawrence steps in and puts a positive spin on things. He says Juliet's in a better place now. They all wanted her to marry well and jump into a higher social class—that's what they thought would be heaven for her. But now she's really in heaven, and she'll have eternal life. "So hey," he tells them, "dry up those tears, put her in her finest clothes, and let's get her to the tomb. Stat." |
CAPULET
All things that we ordainèd festival 90
Turn from their office to black funeral:
Our instruments to melancholy bells,
Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast,
Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change,
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, 95
And all things change them to the contrary. FRIAR LAWRENCE
Sir, go you in, and, madam, go with him,
And go, Sir Paris. Everyone prepare
To follow this fair corse unto her grave.
The heavens do lour upon you for some ill. 100
Move them no more by crossing their high will. | Lord Capulet laments that all the fun things they had planned will now be dreary. The festival is a funeral; their wedding hymns will be dirges instead. The Friar gives him a pat on the back and encourages everyone, again, to get ready to follow Juliet's corpse to the tomb. |
All but the Nurse and the Musicians exit. FIRST MUSICIAN
Faith, we may put up our pipes and be gone. NURSE
Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up,
For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. FIRST MUSICIAN
Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended. 105 Nurse exits. | The Nurse and the First Musician agree it's time for them to pack up their instruments and leave. |
Enter Peter. PETER Musicians, O musicians, “Heart’s ease,”
“Heart’s ease.” O, an you will have me live, play
“Heart’s ease.” FIRST MUSICIAN Why “Heart’s ease?” PETER O musicians, because my heart itself plays “My 110
heart is full.” O, play me some merry dump to
comfort me. FIRST MUSICIAN Not a dump, we. ’Tis no time to play
now. PETER You will not then? 115 FIRST MUSICIAN No. PETER I will then give it you soundly. FIRST MUSICIAN What will you give us? PETER No money, on my faith, but the gleek. I will give
you the minstrel. 120 FIRST MUSICIAN Then will I give you the
serving-creature. PETER Then will I lay the serving-creature’s dagger on
your pate. I will carry no crochets. I’ll re you, I’ll fa
you. Do you note me? 125 FIRST MUSICIAN An you re us and fa us, you note us. SECOND MUSICIAN Pray you, put up your dagger and
put out your wit. PETER Then have at you with my wit. I will dry-beat
you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. 130
Answer me like men.
Sings. When griping griefs the heart doth wound
And doleful dumps the mind oppress,
Then music with her silver sound—
Why “silver sound”? Why “music with her silver 135
sound”? What say you, Simon Catling? FIRST MUSICIAN Marry, sir, because silver hath a
sweet sound. PETER Prates.—What say you, Hugh Rebeck? SECOND MUSICIAN I say “silver sound” because musicians 140
sound for silver. PETER Prates too.—What say you, James Soundpost? THIRD MUSICIAN Faith, I know not what to say. PETER O, I cry you mercy. You are the singer. I will say
for you. It is “music with her silver sound” because 145
musicians have no gold for sounding:
Sings. Then music with her silver sound
With speedy help doth lend redress.
He exits. FIRST MUSICIAN What a pestilent knave is this same! SECOND MUSICIAN Hang him, Jack. Come, we’ll in 150
here, tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. They exit. | Before the musicians can leave, Peter comes in and demands they play him a song. They don't think it's the right time for playing, so they say no, at which point he starts threatening them. Finally, Peter sings a riddle and makes each of the musicians guess at the answer. When none of them get it right, he tells them the answer and leaves. The musicians call him a pain-in-the-butt and go in search of some dinner. |