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Act 4, Scene 5


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Original Play

Modern Translation

 

Enter NURSE

The NURSE enters.  

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NURSE
Mistress! What, mistress! Juliet!—Fast, I warrant her, she.—
Why, lamb! Why, lady! Fie, you slug-a-bed.
Why, love, I say. Madam! Sweet-heart! Why, bride!
What, not a word? You take your pennyworths 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!
I must needs 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?
(opens the bed curtains)
What, dressed and in your clothes, and down again?
I must needs wake you. Lady, lady, lady!—
Alas, alas! Help, help! My lady’s dead!—
Oh, welladay, that ever I was born!—
Some aqua vitae, ho!—My lord! My lady!

NURSE
Mistress! Hey, mistress! Juliet! Fast asleep, I bet. Hey, lamb! Hey, lady! Hey, you sleepyhead! Hey, love, I say! Madam! Sweetheart! Hey, bride! What, not a single word to say? Enjoy this last bit of sleep now. Get a week’s worth of sleep, because tonight, I bet, Count Paris will make sure that you don’t get much rest. God forgive me. Indeed, and amen. How sound asleep she is! I have to wake her. Madam, madam, madam! Yeah, let the count take you in your bed. He’ll wake you up, no doubt. Won’t he? (opens the bed curtains) What? Still dressed in your clothes but asleep. I must wake you. Lady, lady, lady! No, no! Help, help! My lady’s dead! Oh curse the day I was born! Hey! Get me some liquor! My lord! My lady!

 

Enter LADY CAPULET

LADY CAPULET enters.

 

 

LADY CAPULET
What noise is here?

LADY CAPULET
What’s with all the noise?

 

NURSE
      O lamentable day!

NURSE
Oh, terrible day!

 

LADY CAPULET
What is the matter?

LADY CAPULET
What’s the matter?

 

NURSE
      Look, look. O heavy day!

NURSE
Look, look! Oh, what an awful day!

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LADY CAPULET
O me, O me! My child, my only life,
Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!—
Help, help! Call help.

LADY CAPULET
Oh no, oh no! My child, my reason for being, come back, look up, or I’ll die with you! Help, help! Call for help.

 

Enter CAPULET

CAPULET enters.  

 

CAPULET
For shame, bring Juliet forth. Her lord is come.

CAPULET
For shame, get Juliet out here. Her bridegroom has arrived.

 

NURSE
She’s dead, deceased, she’s dead. Alack the day!

NURSE
She’s dead, deceased, dead. Curse the day!

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LADY CAPULET
Alack the day. She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead!

LADY CAPULET
Curse the day. She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead!

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CAPULET
Ha? Let me see her. Out, alas! She’s cold.
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.

CAPULET
What? Let me see her. No! She’s cold. Her blood has stopped, and her joints are stiff. Life left her body a long while ago. Death rests on her like an unexpected frost that killed the most beautiful flower.

 

NURSE
O lamentable day!

NURSE
Oh terrible day!

 

LADY CAPULET
      O woeful time.

LADY CAPULET
Oh awful time!




 

CAPULET
Death, that hath ta’en her hence to make me wail,
Ties up my tongue and will not let me speak.

CAPULET
Death, which has taken her away to make me cry, ties up my tongue and will not let me speak.

 

Enter FRIAR LAWRENCE, County PARIS, and MUSICIANS

FRIAR LAWRENCE and PARIS enter with MUSICIANS.  

 

FRIAR LAWRENCE
Come, is the bride ready to go to church?

FRIAR LAWRENCE
Come, is the bride ready to go to church?

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CAPULET
Ready to go, but never to return.
O son! The night before thy wedding day
Hath death lain with thy wife. There she lies,
Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
Death is my son-in-law. Death is my heir.
My daughter he hath wedded. I will die,
And leave him all. Life, living, all is Death’s.

CAPULET
She’s ready to go, but not to return. (to PARIS) Oh son! On the night before your wedding day, death has slept with your wife. There she lies, a flower who was deflowered by death. Death is my son-in-law. Death is my heir. Death has married my daughter. I will die and leave everything to Death. Life, living, it all is now Death’s.




 

PARIS
Have I thought long to see this morning’s face,
And doth it give me such a sight as this?

PARIS
Have I waited to see this morning for so long, only for it to look like this?

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LADY CAPULET
Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!
Most miserable hour that e’er time saw
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!

LADY CAPULET
Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day! The most miserable hour that ever existed in all of time. I had just one child, one poor child, one poor and loving child. Just one thing to rejoice and find comfort in. Now cruel Death has stolen it from my sight!

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NURSE
O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day!
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!

NURSE
Oh misery! Oh miserable, miserable, miserable day! The saddest day, most miserable day that I ever, ever saw! Oh day! Oh day! Oh day! Oh hateful day! There has never been a day as black as this one. Oh miserable day, Oh miserable day!






 

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.

PARIS
She was tricked, divorced, wronged, spited, killed! Detestable Death tricked her. Cruel, cruel Death murdered her. Oh love! Oh life! There is no life because my love is dead.

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CAPULET
Despised, distressèd, hated, martyred, killed!
Uncomfortable time, why camest 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 buried.

CAPULET
Despised, distressed, hated, martyred, killed! Why did you come now, Death, to murder, murder our joy? Oh child! Oh child! My soul and not my child! You are dead! No! My child is dead. My child will be buried together with my joy.

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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,
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 ye now, seeing she is advanced
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
Oh, 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
On this fair corse, and, as the custom is,
And in her best array, bear her to church.
For though some nature bids us all lament,
Yet nature’s tears are reason’s merriment.

FRIAR LAWRENCE
Quiet, for shame! Your outcries are no cure for confusion. Both you and heaven played a part in giving you your child. Now heaven has her, and she is better off. The part of her that came from you could not stop her from dying, but the part she got from heaven gives her eternal life. The most you could hope for her was that she marry well. Your idea of heaven for her was that she move up the social ladder. Yet now you weep, even though she has risen up above the clouds, all the way to heaven itself? Oh, by mourning her death you love your child so poorly, going mad even though she is well and in heaven. It is better for a girl to die young while her marriage is still fresh and loving than to be married for a long time. Dry your tears, and place your rosemary (editor’s note: rosemary signifies enduring love) on this beautiful corpse. And, as is the custom, put her in her finest clothes and carry her to church. It’s human nature to shed tears, but reason says that we should be joyful.

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CAPULET
All things that we ordained festival
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,
And all things change them to the contrary.

CAPULET
The things that we prepared for the wedding now will be used instead for the funeral. Our music instruments will be exchanged for mourning bells. Our wedding banquet will be instead a sad burial feast. Our celebratory hymns will change to sad funeral dirges. Our bridal flowers will cover a buried corpse. Everything will be used for the purpose opposite that which we expected.

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FRIAR LAWRENCE
Sir, go you in, and, madam, go with him;
And go, Sir Paris. Every one prepare
To follow this fair corse unto her grave.
The heavens do lour upon you for some ill.
Move them no more by crossing their high will.

FRIAR LAWRENCE
Sir, you go in. Madam, go with him. And you too, Sir Paris. Everyone prepare to follow this beautiful corpse to her grave. The heavens hang over you for some unknown reason. Stop fighting heaven’s will and it will no longer move against you.

 

Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and FRIAR LAWRENCE

CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and FRIAR LAWRENCE exit.  

 

FIRST MUSICIAN
Faith, we may put up our pipes and be gone.

FIRST MUSICIAN
I guess we can put our pipes away and leave.




 

NURSE
Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up,
For, well you know, this is a pitiful case.

NURSE
Honest good men, yes, put them away, away. As you know, this is a sad case.

 

Exit

The NURSE exits.  

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FIRST MUSICIAN
Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.

FIRST MUSICIAN
Yes, but this case at least can be mended. (editor’s note: the musician is referring to the case for his flute, which is broken)

 

Enter PETER

PETER enters.  

 

PETER
Musicians, O musicians, “Heart’s Ease,” “Heart’s Ease.” O, an you will have me live, play “Heart’s Ease.”

PETER
Musicians, oh, musicians, play “Heart’s Ease,” “Heart’s Ease.” Oh, if you want me to live, play “Heart’s Ease.”

 

FIRST MUSICIAN
Why “Heart’s ease?”

FIRST MUSICIAN
Why “Heart’s Ease”?

 

PETER
O musicians, because my heart itself plays “My Heart is Full.” O, play me some merry dump to comfort me.

PETER
Oh, musicians, because my heart itself is playing “My Heart is Full of Woe.” Oh, play me some happy mournful tune to comfort me.

 

FIRST MUSICIAN
Not a dump, we. ‘Tis no time to play now.

FIRST MUSICIAN
No, we won’t play a sad song. Now is not the time for it.

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PETER
You will not then?

PETER
You won’t, then?

 

FIRST MUSICIAN
No.

FIRST MUSICIAN
No.

 

PETER
I will then give it you soundly.

PETER
Then I’ll give you something you won’t forget.

 

FIRST MUSICIAN
What will you give us?

FIRST MUSICIAN
What will you give us?

 

PETER
No money, on my faith, but the gleek. I will give you the minstrel.

PETER
Not money, I swear. But I’ll insult you, and call you rogues.

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FIRST MUSICIAN
Then I will give you the serving creature.

FIRST MUSICIAN
Then I’ll call you a lowly servant.

 

PETER
Then will I lay the serving creature’s dagger on your pate. I will carry no crotchets. I’ll re you, I’ll fa you. Do you note me?

PETER
Then I’ll take my serving knife to smack you upside the head. I won’t need to sing. I’ll make you sing. Do you hear me?

 

FIRST MUSICIAN
An you re us and fa us, you note us.

FIRST MUSICIAN
If you make us sing, you’ll hear us.

 

SECOND MUSICIAN
Pray you, put up your dagger and put out your wit.

SECOND MUSICIAN
Please, put away your knife and show some wits.

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PETER
Then have at you with my wit. I will dry-beat you with an iron wit and put up my iron dagger. Answer me like men.
(sings)
When griping grief the heart doth wound
And doleful dumps the mind oppress,
Then music with her silver sound—
(speaks) Why “silver sound”? Why “music with her silver sound”? What say you, Simon Catling?

PETER
I’ll attack you with my wit! I’ll put away my iron dagger and thrash you with my wicked wit. Answer me like men.
(sings)
When grief wounds your heart,
And sadness presses on your mind,
Then music with her silver sound—
(speaks) Why “silver sound”? What does  “music with her silver sound” mean? What do you say, Simon Catling?

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FIRST MUSICIAN
Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.

FIRST MUSICIAN
Well, sir, because silver has a sweet sound.

 

PETER
Pretty.—What say you, Hugh Rebeck?

PETER
A witty reply! What do you say, Hugh Rebeck?

 

SECOND MUSICIAN
I say, “silver sound” because musicians sound for silver.

SECOND MUSICIAN
I say “silver sound,” because musicians play music to earn silver.

 

PETER
Pretty too.—What say you, James Soundpost?

PETER
More wit! What do you say, James Soundpost?

 

THIRD MUSICIAN
Faith, I know not what to say.

THIRD MUSICIAN
Well, I don’t know what to say.

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PETER
Oh, I cry you mercy, you are the singer. I will say for you. It is “music with her silver sound” because musicians have no gold for sounding.

PETER
Oh, I beg your pardon. You’re the singer (editor’s note: singers were considered unintelligent). I’ll answer for you. It is “music with her silver sound,” because musicians will never get rich.




 

(sings)
Then music with her silver sound
With speedy help doth lend redress.

(sings)
Then music with her silver sound
quickly makes you feel all right.

 

Exit PETER

PETER exits.  

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FIRST MUSICIAN
What a pestilent knave is this same!

FIRST MUSICIAN
What an annoying jerk!

 

SECOND MUSICIAN
Hang him, Jack! Come, we’ll in here, tarry for the mourners and stay dinner.

SECOND MUSICIAN
Screw him, Jack! Come on, we’ll go in there, wait for the mourners to return, and stay for dinner.

 

Exeunt

MUSICIANS exit.  

 

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