On Thursday, sir? The time is very short.
On Thursday, sir? That’s extremely soon.
My father Capulet will have it so,
And I am nothing slow to slack his haste.
My father-in-law Capulet wants it that way, and I’m not
at all interested in slowing him down.
You say you do not know the lady’s mind.
Uneven is the course. I like it not.
You say you don’t know what Juliet wants. That’s a
treacherous road. I don’t like it.
* * * * *
10 * * * *
Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt’s death,
And therefore have I little talked of love,
For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous
That she do give her sorrow so much sway,
And in his wisdom hastes our marriage
To stop the inundation of her tears—
Which, too much minded by herself alone,
May be put from her by society.
Now do you know the reason of this haste.
She’s grieving too much over Tybalt’s death, so I
haven’t talked to her about love. Romantic love can’t flourish during times
of mourning. Now, sir, her father thinks it’s dangerous that she has given
herself so fully to sorrow. In his wisdom, he’s rushing our marriage in order
to stop her tears. She is alone all the time and thinking too much of her
grief. Some company might help her to stop crying. Now you know the reason
for this hurry to the wedding.
FRIAR LAWRENCE (aside) I would I knew not why it
should be slowed.—
Look, sir, here comes the lady toward my cell.
FRIAR LAWRENCE (to himself) I wish I didn’t
know the reason why it should be slowed down. Look, sir, here comes the lady
toward my cell.
Happily met, my lady and my wife.
I’m happy to see you, my lady and my wife.
That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.
That might be, sir, when I’m married.
That “may be” must be, love, on Thursday next.
That “may be” must be, love, on Thursday.
What must be shall be.
What must be will be.
That’s a certain text.
That’s a certain truth.
Come you to make confession to this Father?
Have you come to make confession to Father Lawrence?
To answer that, I should confess to you.
If I answered that, I’d be confessing to you.
Do not deny to him that you love me.
Don’t deny to him that you love me.
I will confess to you that I love him.
I’ll confess to you that I love him.
So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.
You will also confess, I’m sure, that you love me.
If I do so, it will be of more price
Being spoke behind your back than to your face.
If I do so, it will be worth more if I say it behind
your back than if I say it to your face.
Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears.
Poor dear, your face has been abused by so many tears.
The tears have got small victory by that,
For it was bad enough before their spite.
The tears haven’t won much, since my face wasn’t all
that nice before I started to cry.
Thou wrong’st it more than tears with that report.
Now you’re abusing your face to say something untrue
like that about it.
That is no slander, sir, which is a truth,
And what I spake, I spake it to my face.
It is no lie, sir. It’s the truth. And what I said, I
said to my face.
Thy face is mine, and thou hast slandered it.
Your face is mine, and you have slandered it.
It may be so, for it is not mine own.—
Are you at leisure, holy Father, now,
Or shall I come to you at evening mass?
That may be true, since my face is not my own.—(to FRIAR LAWRENCE) Are you free, Father, or should I come
to you at evening mass?
My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.—
My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
I have time, my sad daughter. (to
PARIS) My lord, we must ask you for some time
God shield I should disturb devotion!—
Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye. (kisses her) Till then, adieu, and keep this holy
God forbid that I should intrude on confession! Juliet,
I will wake you early on Thursday. (kissing her)
Until then, good-bye, and keep this holy kiss.
O, shut the door! And when thou hast done so,
Come weep with me, past hope, past cure, past help.
Oh, shut the door! And when you’ve done that, come weep
with me. My situation is beyond hope, beyond cure, beyond help!
* * * *
O Juliet, I already know thy grief.
It strains me past the compass of my wits.
I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this county.
Oh, Juliet, I already know why you’re so sad. It’s too
difficult a problem for me to know how to solve. I’ve heard that on the
coming Thursday you must marry this count, and nothing can delay it.
* * * * *
55 * * * *
60 * * * *
Tell me not, Friar, that thou hear’st of this,
Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it.
If in thy wisdom thou canst give no help,
Do thou but call my resolution wise,
And with this knife I’ll help it presently. (shows him a knife)
God joined my heart and Romeo’s, thou our hands.
And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo sealed,
Shall be the label to another deed,
Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
Turn to another, this shall slay them both.
Therefore out of thy long-experienced time,
Give me some present counsel, or, behold,
‘Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that
Which the commission of thy years and art
Could to no issue of true honor bring.
Be not so long to speak. I long to die
If what thou speak’st speak not of remedy.
Don’t tell me, Friar, that you’ve heard all this unless
you can tell me how I can prevent it. If with all your wisdom even you can’t
help, then you must agree that my solution is wise, and that this knife is
the key to the solution (JULIET reveals a knife).
God joined my heart to Romeo’s, and you joined our hands. Before my hand or
heart—which are bound to Romeo—are given to another man, I’ll use this knife
to kill myself. So either use your long experience and education to give me
some advice about what to do, or watch as I use this knife like a judge to
honorably resolve the extreme situation in which I’m caught. Don’t wait long
to speak. I want to die if what you say isn’t a solution.
70 * * * *
Hold, daughter. I do spy a kind of hope,
Which craves as desperate an execution
As that is desperate which we would prevent.
If, rather than to marry County Paris,
Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,
Then is it likely thou wilt undertake
A thing like death to chide away this shame,
That copest with death himself to ’scape from it.
An if thou darest, I’ll give thee remedy.
Wait, daughter, I see a ray of hope. But it will
require an act as desperate as the situation we want to avoid. If you have
the willpower to kill yourself rather than marry Count Paris, then you’ll
likely agree to experience something like death to escape this problem. You
can wrestle with death itself in order to escape from death. If you dare to
do it, I’ll give you the solution.
80 * * * *
85 * * * *
O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower;
Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk
Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears;
Or shut me nightly in a charnel house,
O’ercovered quite with dead men’s rattling bones,
With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls;
Or bid me go into a new-made grave
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud—
Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble—
And I will do it without fear or doubt,
To live an unstained wife to my sweet love.
To avoid marrying Paris I’d jump from the top of a
tower; or walk down thief-infested alleys; or sit among a nest of serpents;
or be chained up up with wild bears; or be shut up every night in a crypt
full of rattling bones, stinking flesh, and skulls without jawbones; or climb
into a freshly dug grave and hide beneath the shroud of a dead man. All those
things make me tremble when I hear them said, but I’ll do them without fear
or dread in order to be a pure wife to my sweet love.
Hold, then. Go home, be merry. Give consent
To marry Paris. Wednesday is tomorrow.
Tomorrow night look that thou lie alone.
Let not the Nurse lie with thee in thy chamber. (shows her a vial)
Take thou this vial, being then in bed,
And this distillèd liquor drink thou off,
When presently through all thy veins shall run
A cold and drowsy humor, for no pulse
Shall keep his native progress, but surcease.
No warmth, no breath shall testify thou livest.
The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
To wanny ashes, thy eyes’ windows fall
Like death when he shuts up the day of life.
Each part, deprived of supple government,
Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death.
And in this borrowed likeness of shrunk death
Thou shalt continue two and forty hours,
And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes
To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead.
Then, as the manner of our country is,
In thy best robes uncovered on the bier
Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault
Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.
In the meantime, against thou shalt awake,
Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift,
And hither shall he come, and he and I
Will watch thy waking, and that very night
Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
And this shall free thee from this present shame,
If no inconstant toy, nor womanish fear,
Abate thy valor in the acting it.
Be strong, then. Go home, be cheerful, and agree to
marry Paris. Tomorrow is Wednesday. Tomorrow night make sure that you go to
sleep alone. Don’t let the Nurse sleep in your bedroom. (shows
JULIET a vial) Drink this liquor when you’re
in bed. A cold, sleepy feeling will then run through your veins, and your
pulse will cease to beat. Your body will go cold, and you’ll stop breathing.
The red of your lips and cheeks will fade to a pale ashy color, and your
eyelids will close just as if you were dead. Your body will lose control over
its own movement, and will become stiff as that of a corpse. You’ll remain in
this simulation of death for forty-two hours, and then you’ll wake as if from
a pleasant sleep. So when the bridegroom comes to wake you from your bed in
the morning, he will think that you are dead. Then, as is the tradition of
our city, you’ll be dressed in your best clothes and placed on an uncovered
funeral platform and carried to the Capulet tomb that holds all of your dead
relatives. Meanwhile, before you wake up, I’ll send word to Romeo of our
plan. He’ll come here, and we’ll keep a watch over you as you wake. That
night, Romeo will take you with him to Mantua. So, as long as you don’t
change your mind or let your womanly fear interfere with your courage, you’ll
be free from the current situation which threatens to force you into sin.
Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear!
Give it to me! Don’t talk to me about fear.
FRIAR LAWRENCE (gives her a vial)
Hold. Get you gone. Be strong and prosperous
In this resolve. I’ll send a friar with speed
To Mantua with my letters to thy lord.
FRIAR LAWRENCE (giving her the vial) Now go.
Be strong and good luck. I’ll send a friar speeding to Mantua with my letter
* * *
Love give me strength, and strength shall help afford.
Farewell, dear Father.
Love gives me strength, and strength the will, help me
follow through on this plan. Goodbye, dear Father.