Romeo and Juliet Act II Scene V
Original
Modern
Notes
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SCENE V. Capulet’s Garden.
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SCENE V. Capulet’s Garden.
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[Enter Juliet.]
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[Enter Juliet.]
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JULIET. The clock struck nine when I did send the Nurse, In half an hour she promised to return. Perchance she cannot meet him. That’s not so. O, she is lame. Love’s heralds should be thoughts, Which ten times faster glides than the sun’s beams, Driving back shadows over lowering hills: Therefore do nimble-pinion’d doves draw love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. Now is the sun upon the highmost hill Of this day’s journey, and from nine till twelve Is three long hours, yet she is not come. Had she affections and warm youthful blood, She’d be as swift in motion as a ball; My words would bandy her to my sweet love, And his to me. But old folks, many feign as they were dead; Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.
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JULIET. The clock struck nine when I sent the Nurse; in half an hour she promised to return. Perhaps she cannot meet him. That’s not so. Oh, she is slow. Love’s messengers should be thoughts, which glide ten times faster than the sun’s beams, driving back shadows over darkening hills. Therefore nimble-winged doves draw love’s chariot, and therefore the wind-swift Cupid has wings. Now the sun is upon the highest hill of this day’s journey, and from nine till twelve is three long hours, yet she has not come. If she had feelings and warm youthful blood, she would be as swift in motion as a ball; my words would toss her to my sweet love, and his to me. But old people, many of them act as if they were dead; cumbersome, slow, heavy and pale as lead.
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[Enter Nurse and Peter.]
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[Enter Nurse and Peter.]
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JULIET. O God, she comes. O honey Nurse, what news? Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
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JULIET. Oh God, she comes. Oh sweet Nurse, what news? Have you met with him? Send your man away.
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NURSE. Peter, stay at the gate.
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NURSE. Peter, stay at the gate.
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[Exit Peter.]
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[Exit Peter.]
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JULIET. Now, good sweet Nurse,—O Lord, why look’st thou sad? Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; If good, thou sham’st the music of sweet news By playing it to me with so sour a face.
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JULIET. Now, good sweet Nurse,—Oh Lord, why do you look so sad? Even if the news is sad, still tell it cheerfully; if it is good, you disgrace the music of sweet news by playing it to me with such a sour face.
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NURSE. I am aweary, give me leave awhile; Fie, how my bones ache! What a jaunt have I had!
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NURSE. I am worn out, give me a moment; fie, how my bones ache! What a tiring journey I have had!
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JULIET. I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news: Nay come, I pray thee speak; good, good Nurse, speak.
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JULIET. I wish you had my bones, and I your news. No, come, I beg you, speak; good, good Nurse, speak.
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NURSE. Jesu, what haste? Can you not stay a while? Do you not see that I am out of breath?
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NURSE. Jesus, what haste? Can you not wait a while? Do you not see that I am out of breath?
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JULIET. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath To say to me that thou art out of breath? The excuse that thou dost make in this delay Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. Is thy news good or bad? Answer to that; Say either, and I’ll stay the circumstance. Let me be satisfied, is’t good or bad?
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JULIET. How are you out of breath, when you have breath to say to me that you are out of breath? The excuse you make for this delay is longer than the tale you are postponing. Is your news good or bad? Answer that; say either, and I’ll wait for the details. Let me be satisfied—is it good or bad?
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NURSE. Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man. Romeo? No, not he. Though his face be better than any man’s, yet his leg excels all men’s, and for a hand and a foot, and a body, though they be not to be talked on, yet they are past compare. He is not the flower of courtesy, but I’ll warrant him as gentle as a lamb. Go thy ways, wench, serve God. What, have you dined at home?
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NURSE. Well, you have made a simple choice; you do not know how to choose a man. Romeo? No, not he. Though his face is better than any man’s, yet his leg surpasses all men’s, and as for a hand and a foot and a body, though they are not to be talked of, yet they are beyond compare. He is not the flower of courtesy, but I’ll warrant him as gentle as a lamb. Go your way, girl, serve God. What, have you dined at home?
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JULIET. No, no. But all this did I know before. What says he of our marriage? What of that?
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JULIET. No, no. But all this I knew before. What does he say of our marriage? What of that?
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NURSE. Lord, how my head aches! What a head have I! It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. My back o’ t’other side,—O my back, my back! Beshrew your heart for sending me about To catch my death with jauncing up and down.
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NURSE. Lord, how my head aches! What a head I have! It throbs as if it would fall into twenty pieces. My back on the other side—oh my back, my back! Curse your heart for sending me about to catch my death with trotting up and down.
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JULIET. I’faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. Sweet, sweet, sweet Nurse, tell me, what says my love?
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JULIET. In faith, I am sorry that you are not well. Sweet, sweet, sweet Nurse, tell me, what does my love say?
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NURSE. Your love says like an honest gentleman, And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, And I warrant a virtuous,—Where is your mother?
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NURSE. Your love speaks like an honest gentleman, and a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and I warrant a virtuous one—Where is your mother?
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JULIET. Where is my mother? Why, she is within. Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest. ‘Your love says, like an honest gentleman, ‘Where is your mother?’
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JULIET. Where is my mother? Why, she is inside. Where should she be? How oddly you reply. “Your love says, like an honest gentleman, ‘Where is your mother?’”
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NURSE. O God’s lady dear, Are you so hot? Marry, come up, I trow. Is this the poultice for my aching bones? Henceforward do your messages yourself.
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NURSE. Oh dear lady of God, are you so impatient? Indeed, come now, I think. Is this the poultice for my aching bones? From now on do your messages yourself.
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JULIET. Here’s such a coil. Come, what says Romeo?
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JULIET. Here’s such a fuss. Come, what does Romeo say?
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NURSE. Have you got leave to go to shrift today?
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NURSE. Have you got permission to go to confession today?
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JULIET. I have.
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JULIET. I have.
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NURSE. Then hie you hence to Friar Lawrence’ cell; There stays a husband to make you a wife. Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, They’ll be in scarlet straight at any news. Hie you to church. I must another way, To fetch a ladder by the which your love Must climb a bird’s nest soon when it is dark. I am the drudge, and toil in your delight; But you shall bear the burden soon at night. Go. I’ll to dinner; hie you to the cell.
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NURSE. Then hurry from here to Friar Lawrence’s cell; there waits a husband to make you a wife. Now the wanton blood rises in your cheeks—they’ll be scarlet at once at any news. Hurry to church. I must go another way, to fetch a ladder by which your love must climb to a bird’s nest soon when it is dark. I am the drudge, and toil for your pleasure; but you shall bear the burden soon at night. Go. I’ll go to dinner; hurry to the cell.
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JULIET. Hie to high fortune! Honest Nurse, farewell.
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JULIET. Hurry to high fortune! Honest Nurse, farewell.
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[Exeunt.]
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[They exit.]