ACT 4
[Enter Nurse]
NURSE
Mistress! What, mistress! Juliet! Fast, I warrant her, she:
Hey mistress! Juliet! She’s fast asleep;
Why, lamb! Why, lady! Fie, you slug-a-bed!
Hey, lamb! Hey, lady! You’re a sleepy-head!
Why, love, I say! Madam! Sweet-heart! Why, bride!
Why, love, I say! Madam! Sweetheart! Why, bride!
What, not a word? You take your pennyworths now;
What, not a word? You’re sleeping all you can now;
Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
Sleep for a week; for the next night, I am sure,
The County Paris hath set up his rest,
Count Paris will not want to rest in bed,
That you shall rest but little. God forgive me,
And you won’t get much rest as well. Forgive me,
Marry, and amen, how sound is she asleep!
God bless my soul, how sound asleep is she!
I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam!
I’ll have to wake her up. Madam, madam,
Ay, let the county take you in your bed;
Yes, let Count Paris take you up to bed,
He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be?
He’ll wake you up, for sure. Ain’t that the truth?
[Undraws the curtains]
What, dressed! And in your clothes! And down again!
What, you’re still dressed in clothes! Then laid back down!
I must needs wake you; Lady! Lady! Lady!
I have to wake you. Lady! Lady! Lady!
Alas, alas! Help, help! My lady's dead!
Oh no, oh no! Help, help! My lady’s dead!
O, well-a-day, that ever I was born!
I curse the day that ever I was born!
Some aqua vitae, ho! My lord! My lady!
Bring me some alcohol! My lord! My lady!
[Enter LADY CAPULET]
LADY CAPULET
What noise is here?
What’s causing all this noise?
NURSE
O lamentable day!
Oh tragic day!
LADY CAPULET
What is the matter?
What is the matter?
NURSE
Look, look! O heavy day!
Look! An awful day!
LADY CAPULET
O me, O me! My child, my only life,
Oh no! My child, the reason I’m alive,
Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!
Wake up, look up, or I will die with you!
Help, help! Call help.
Help, help! Call help!
[Enter CAPULET]
CAPULET
For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.
It’s shameful: Juliet’s lord is here; come quickly.
NURSE
She's dead, deceased, she's dead; alack the day!
She’s dead, deceased, she’s dead; this awful day!
LADY CAPULET
Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead!
This awful day, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead!
CAPULET
Ha! Let me see her: out, alas! She's cold:
What! Let me see her: out the way! She’s cold:
Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;
Her blood’s stopped flowing and her joints are stiff;
Life and these lips have long been separated:
The life within her lips has long departed;
Death lies on her like an untimely frost
Death covers her like unexpected frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
That kills the sweetest flower in all the field.
NURSE
O lamentable day!
Oh, dreadful day!
LADY CAPULET
O woful time!
Oh, woeful time!
CAPULET
Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail,
Death, that has taken her to make me cry
Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.
Has left me tongue tied, and I cannot speak.
[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians]
FRIAR LAURENCE
Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
CAPULET
Ready to go, but never to return.
Ready to go, but never to return.
O son! The night before thy wedding-day
Oh son-in-law! The night before your wedding,
Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies,
Death’s killed your wife in sleep. She’s lying there,
Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
Just like a flower that death has just destroyed.
Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir;
Instead of you, Death is my son-in-law
My daughter he hath wedded: I will die,
And heir for Death has married her: I’ll die,
And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's.
And leave my life and everything to Death.
PARIS
Have I thought long to see this morning's face,
I’ve thought so much about this early morning,
And doth it give me such a sight as this?
But why has it shown me a sight like this?
LADY CAPULET
Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!
This cursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!
Most miserable hour that e'er time saw
This is the most unhappy hour that time
In lasting labour of his pilgrimage!
Has ever seen in all eternity!
But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
I only had one poor and loving child
But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
In whom I’d celebrate and draw my comfort,
And cruel death hath catched it from my sight!
But cruel death has snatched her from my sight!
NURSE
O woe! O woful, woful, woful day!
Oh woe! Oh, woeful, woeful, woeful day!
Most lamentable day, most woful day,
Most awful, mournful day, most woeful day
That ever, ever, I did yet behold!
That ever, ever I have lived to see!
O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!
Oh, day! Oh, day! Oh, day! Oh, hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this:
I’ve never seen a day as dark as this:
O woful day, O woful day!
Oh, woeful day, oh, woeful day!
PARIS
Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!
You’ve cheated her! You’ve wrongly killed her, Death!
Most detestable death, by thee beguiled,
You most repugnant Death, you cheated her,
By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!
And by your cruelty, you’ve had her killed!
O love! O life! Not life, but love in death!
There is no life now, for my love is dead!
CAPULET
Despised, distressed, hated, martyred, killed!
I hate you for your insults, Death! You’ve killed her!
Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now
This wretched time, why did you have to happen
To murder, murder our solemnity?
To murder dignity and our sedateness?
O child! O child! My soul, and not my child!
Oh, child! Death, take my soul, but not my child!
Dead art thou! Alack! My child is dead;
You’re dead, I say! Oh no! My child is dead;
And with my child my joys are buried.
And with my child, my joy in life dies too.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Peace, ho, for shame! Confusion's cure lives not
Be quiet, for goodness’ sake! You don’t cure chaos
In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
By shouting in confusion. You and heaven
Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,
Have both made this fair girl; now she’s in heaven,
And all the better is it for the maid:
And that is all the better for the girl.
Your part in her you could not keep from death,
There’s nothing you could do to stop her dying,
But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
But heaven keeps her in eternal life.
The most you sought was her promotion;
The most you wanted was her social climbing,
For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced:
And marrying well, she would reach your heaven.
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced
But now you cry as you see she’s ascended
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
Above the clouds and up to highest heaven?
O, in this love, you love your child so ill,
If this is love, you love your child so badly,
That you run mad, seeing that she is well:
By being mad, when she is well in heaven.
She's not well married that lives married long;
It’s not a happy marriage when it’s long;
But she's best married that dies married young.
It’s better, when you’re married, dying young.
Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary
Dry up your tears, and place your rosemary plant
On this fair corse; and, as the custom is,
Upon this lovely corpse; and per the custom,
In all her best array bear her to church:
Dressed in her finest clothes, take her to church.
For though fond nature bids us an lament,
But though our human nature makes us cry,
Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.
We should be glad to know the reason why.
CAPULET
All things that we ordained festival,
All of our preparations for the wedding
Turn from their office to black funeral;
Must be converted for the funeral.
Our instruments to melancholy bells,
Our instruments are now just tolling bells,
Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast,
Our wedding banquet now a funeral feast,
Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change,
Our hymns of celebration now laments,
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
Our bridal flowers now thrown upon the coffin,
And all things change them to the contrary.
All plans we had are flipped upon their head.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him;
Sir, go inside, and, madam, go with him;
And go, Sir Paris; every one prepare
And leave, Sir Paris; everyone prepare
To follow this fair corse unto her grave:
To follow this fair corpse out to her grave:
The heavens do lour upon you for some ill;
The heavens are angry at you for a reason;
Move them no more by crossing their high will.
Don’t make them angrier through disobedience.
[Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and FRIAR LAURENCE]
FIRST MUSICIAN
Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone.
Let’s put our instruments away, and leave.
NURSE
Honest goodfellows, ah, put up, put up;
Good gentlemen, yes, put your pipes away,
For, well you know, this is a pitiful case.
For you can see this case is pitiful.
[Exit]
FIRST MUSICIAN
Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.
I can, although my pipe case can be mended.
[Enter PETER]
PETER
Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease, Heart's
Musicians, play the tune, “Heart’s ease, Heart’s
ease:' O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.'
ease.” Oh, if you want me to live, play “Heart’s ease.”
FIRST MUSICIAN
Why 'Heart's ease?'
Why “Heart’s ease”?
PETER
O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'My
Oh musicians, because my heart is playing the tune, “My
heart is full of woe:' O, play me some merry dump,
heart is full of woe.” So, play a happy mournful tune
to comfort me.
to cheer me up.
FIRST MUSICIAN
Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now.
We won’t play a mournful tune; now is not the time.
PETER
You will not, then?
You won’t play it, then?
FIRST MUSICIAN
No.
No.
PETER
I will then give it you soundly.
Then I’ll compensate you appropriately.
FIRST MUSICIAN
What will you give us?
What will you give us?
PETER
No money, on my faith, but the gleek;
No money, I assure you, just a jibe;
I will give you the minstrel.
And I will call you rogues.
FIRST MUSICIAN
Then I will give you the serving-creature.
Then I’ll call you a lowly servant.
PETER
Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on
Then I will stab this lowly servant’s dagger in
your pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you,
your neck. I won’t play tunes, but I will chop
I'll fa you; do you note me?
and slice you: do you hear my tune?
FIRST MUSICIAN
An you re us and fa us, you note us.
If you sing notes to us, you’re singing songs.
SECOND MUSICIAN
Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
Come on, put your dagger away and stop this war of words.
PETER
Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you
Then I’ll attack you with my wit! I’ll beat you up
with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger.
with my strong intelligence, and put my iron dagger away.
Answer me like men:
Answer me like men:
'When griping grief the heart doth wound,
“When grief has left your heart a wound
And doleful dumps the mind oppress,
And sadness makes a tired mind
Then music with her silver sound'--
Then music with a silver sound” –
why 'silver sound'? Why 'music with her silver
why say “silver sound?” Why “music with a silver
sound'? What say you, Simon Catling?
sound? Do you think, Simon Catling?
MUSICIAN
Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.
Well, sir, because silver has a sweet sound.
PETER
Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck?
Good call! What do you think, Hugh Rebeck?
SECOND MUSICIAN
I say 'silver sound,' because musicians sound for silver.
I say “silver sound,” because musicians play for silver coins.
PETER
Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost?
Another good one! What do you think, James Soundpost?
THIRD MUSICIAN
Faith, I know not what to say.
In truth, I don’t know what to say.
PETER
O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will say
I beg your pardon; I forget you are just the stupid singer. I’ll
for you. It is 'music with her silver sound,'
speak for you. It is, “music with a silver sound,”
because musicians have no gold for sounding:
because musicians don’t earn gold by playing music:
'Then music with her silver sound
“Then music with a silver sound,
With speedy help doth lend redress.'
Will quickly leave your pains behind.”
[Exit]
FIRST MUSICIAN
What a pestilent knave is this same!
What an irritating twerp he is!
SECOND MUSICIAN
Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for the
Sod him, Jack! Come on, we’ll go in here; wait for the
mourners, and stay dinner.
mourners to return, then stay for dinner.
[Exeunt]
