Romeo and Juliet Side by Side

This page contains explicit language. Viewer discretion is advised.

Translations are on the left side with the original is on the right side.

  1. Act 1
    1. Prologue
    2. Scene 1
    3. Scene 2
    4. Scene 3
    5. Scene 4
    6. Scene 5
  2. Act 2

romeo and juliet
Created by Bradley Mickna

Romeo and Juliet

Act 1


Enter Chorus Enter Chorus
Chorus Chorus
Two Lord’s Houses Two households, both alike in dignity,
In Verona, Italy is where we start In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
An old fight still causes mischiefs From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
And civilians kill other civilians Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
Born into these 2 families, From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of doomed lovers commit suicide A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;
Their terrible fate, Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
And their death, end their parents fight Do with their death bury their parents’ strife.
The path that led to their doomed love, The fearful passage of their death-mark’d love,
And the continued feud, And the continuance of their parents’ rage,
That only the death could end, Which, but their children’s end, nought could remove,
is the story we will tell over the next 2 hours. Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage;
If you listen patiently, The which if you with patient ears attend,
We will fill in the blanks of this tale. What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

Scene 1.Verona. A public place.

Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers
Gregory I am done taking shit from the montagues Gregory, o’ my word, we’ll not carry coals.
No cause then they will offend you. No, for then we should be colliers.
If we are offended, then we can fight them. I mean, an we be in choler, we’ll draw.
Yeah? Just don’t stick out your neck to be hanged. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o’ the collar.
I will attack quickly when provoked. I strike quickly, being moved.
But you do take a minute to be provoked. But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
A lowly Montague ass would drive me to a fight A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
To drive you is to cause you to run. To be brave is to stand and fight! To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand:
So you are driven to run away! therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn’st away.
That Montague will motivate me to fight: And I will A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will
stand against the wall with a Montague, male or female. take the wall of any man or maid of Montague’s.
Then you are a weak warrior; for the weakest is against That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes
the wall. to the wall.
That’s true and that is why women, being weaker True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels,
are pushed up the wall. So I will push are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push
Montague’s men away from the wall, and push his women Montague’s men from the wall, and thrust his maids
up the wall. to the wall.
The fight is only between the masters and the men. The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.
All the same, I will be vicious: when I ‘Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I
have beaten the men, I will point my sword have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the
on the women. maids, and cut off their heads.
You would use your sword on the maids? The heads of the maids?
Of course, either my metal sword or the sword between my legs. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads;
Whatever you think I mean. take it in what sense thou wilt.
They know which you mean when you penetrate them. They must take it in sense that feel it.
And I will penetrate them until I can no longer stand and Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and
Everyone knows I have a pretty piece of flesh. ’tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.
If a flesh sword is supposed to be wet and active as a fish, then we know your dry shriveled dick ‘Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou
Is pretty terrible. Draw your sword. Here come hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes
two Montague men. two of the house of the Montagues.
My sword is out: Go fight, I have your back. My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.
Yeah? By running away? How! turn thy back and run?
Don’t worry about me. Fear me not.
Of course I worry about you. No, marry; I fear thee!
Let’s follow the law and make them start it. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
I will frown at them and see how that makes them feel. I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list.
No. I will flip them off. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them;
Which is humiliating if they ignore it. which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.
Um. Did you flip us off? Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
I did point with my middle finger yes. I do bite my thumb, sir.
Did you flip us off? Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
[Aside to GREGORY] Will the cops side with us if I claim to be taunting them? [Aside to GREGORY] Is the law of our side, if I say ay?
No. No.
No, I don’t flip you off but I do raise my middle finger. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I bite my thumb, sir.
Do you wanna fight? Do you quarrel, sir?
Fight? Absolutely not Quarrel sir! no, sir.
If you do wanna fight, let’s do it! My master is as good as yours. If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you.
As good maybe, but not better. No better.
If you say so… Well, sir.
Say our master is better. Here comes one of his knights. Say ‘better:’ here comes one of my master’s kinsmen.
Our master is better!! Yes, better, sir.
You liar. You lie.
If you are really men, fight us. Gregory. Hope you remember how to fight! Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.
They fight They fight
Seperate you idiots! Part, fools!
Put your swords away! You don’t know what you are doing..Put the swords down!! Put up your swords; you know not what you do. Beats down their swords
Are you pointing your sword on these harmless servants? What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
Fight me instead, Benvolio since you know I will win. Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
I want to keep the peace. Put away your sword. I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword,
Or use it to help me break up this fight. Or manage it to part these men with me.
Your sword is out and you are talking of peace. I hate peace. What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word,
Like I hate hell, all Montagues, and you: As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
Fight me coward! Have at thee, coward!
They fight They fight
Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs
First Citizen (Chris) First Citizen
Everyone strike them. Beat them down. Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down!
Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues! Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!
Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET
What’s that sound? You! Get me my sword! What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!
You need a cane. Why do you want your sword? A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword?
I said my sword! The Old Lord Montague is coming, My sword, I say! Old Montague is come,
And has his sword out to fight me! And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
There is capulet,–Don’t hold me back. Let me fight. Thou villain Capulet,–Hold me not, let me go.
You will not go anywhere if you just want to fight. Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.
Enter PRINCE, with Attendants Enter PRINCE, with Attendants
You rebels who ruin the peace of my city! Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
Who use their swords in neighborhoods– Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,–
Are they not listening? You stop! You animals! Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,
Who use fighting to calm your harmful anger!! That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
Even with some of you bleeding! With purple fountains issuing from your veins,
I will torture any of you who On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Do not drop your weapons to the ground, Throw your mistemper’d weapons to the ground,
And listen to what your prince has to say.. And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
3 street fights started, Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
By you, Capulet, and Montague, By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
That have disturbed the peace all 3 times, Have thrice disturb’d the quiet of our streets,
And have made Verona’s citizens And made Verona’s ancient citizens
Remove their civilian clothes, Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,
And to wield up their sword., To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
Trying to make peace where you spread hate. Canker’d with peace, to part your canker’d hate:
If your men fight in the streets again, If ever you disturb our streets again,
Your lives will pay the price. Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
For now, everyone go away: For this time, all the rest depart away:
Capulet; you come with me: You Capulet; shall go along with me:
And, Montague, come this afternoon, And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
come to the courthouse To know our further pleasure in this case,
to know what I decide. To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.
If you all don’t leave right now, I will put you to death. Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
Who started up this fight? Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?
Tell me nephew, were you here when it started? Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
Capulet’s servants Here were the servants of your adversary,
And your servants were fighting when I got here. And yours, close fighting ere I did approach:
At the moment I pulled out my sword to separate them I drew to part them: in the instant came
The always ready to fight Tybalt, with his sword already out, The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared,
Which, as he talked down about you, Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears,
He swung his sword above his head, He swung about his head and cut the winds,
Which didn’t hurt anyone, but it hissed with his angry words: Who nothing hurt withal hiss’d him in scorn:
While he and I were fighting, While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,
More and more people came from both sides, Came more and more and fought on part and part,
Until the prince came and separated us. Till the prince came, who parted either part.
Where is Romeo? Have you seen him today? O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day?
I am glad he wasn’t in this fight. Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
Madam, one hour before the sun Madam, an hour before the worshipp’d sun
Rose in the east, Peer’d forth the golden window of the east,
I awoke troubled and went for a walk; A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
And underneath the sycamore tree Where, underneath the grove of sycamore
On the city’s west side, That westward rooteth from the city’s side,
I saw your son walking too: So early walking did I see your son:
I started to walk towards him, when he saw me Towards him I made, but he was ware of me
And ran off into the forest: And stole into the covert of the wood:
I knew, based on my own thoughts, I, measuring his affections by my own,
That he wanted to be left alone and That most are busied when they’re most alone,
Followed my instinct to not follow him, Pursued my humour not pursuing his,
And was happy to shun someone who ran from me And gladly shunn’d who gladly fled from me.
He has a been seen there many mornings, Many a morning hath he there been seen,
Crying onto the fresh morning dew. With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew.
Adding more clouds using his sighs; Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;
But as soon as the cheer from the sun But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
begins to show in the east Should in the furthest east begin to draw
To remove the curtain of night, The shady curtains from Aurora’s bed,
My son returns home, Away from the light steals home my heavy son,
And goes to his bedroom, And private in his chamber pens himself,
Closes the blinds on his windows, to block light out Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out
To continue to exist in his fake night: And makes himself an artificial night:
Dark thoughts will continue in his head, Black and portentous must this humour prove,
Unless he gets some good advice. Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
Noble uncle, do you know why he’s upset? My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
I don’t know and he won’t tell me. I neither know it nor can learn of him.
Have you asked him? Have you importuned him by any means?
I have and so have many other people: Both by myself and many other friends:
But he, giving himself emotional advice, But he, his own affections’ counsellor,
Is keeping to himself –I cannot say how much– Is to himself–I will not say how true–
But only he knows what is so secret, But to himself so secret and so close,
He is so far from helping himself, So far from sounding and discovery,
Like a flower bud, As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
He needs to open up to the world, Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
And see the sun for once. Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.
If we knew what was wrong. Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow.
We would be more willing to help. We would as willingly give cure as know.
Well here he come, if you want; See, where he comes: so please you, step aside;
I will find out what’s bothering him. I’ll know his grievance, or be much denied.
I wish you luck, I would thou wert so happy by thy stay,
To find out what’s wrong. Come on madam, let’s go. To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let’s away.
Good morning, cousin. Good-morrow, cousin.
Is it that early? Is the day so young?
The clock just chimed for 9. But new struck nine.
Oh no! Sadness makes time drag on. Ay me! sad hours seem long.
Was that my dad who just left quickly? Was that my father that went hence so fast?
It was. What is the sadness that drags your days? It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours?
Not having something that makes the day go quickly. Not having that, which, having, makes them short.
Are you in love? In love?
I’m out– Out–
Of love? Of love?
Out of sight of the girl who I am in love with. Out of her favour, where I am in love.
Oh man. That kind of love, that love Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,
which overrules a person and is rough! Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
This love, who has blurred my vision, Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,
has allowed me to see without eyes! Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!
What should we eat? Oh shit! Where did this cut come from? Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?
Nevermind I already know. Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
That came from hate but my pain hurts more it is from love. Here’s much to do with hate, but more with love.
Why does love hurt and is fighting fun! Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
Love comes from nothing! O any thing, of nothing first create!
Love is a heavy air! A serious lie! O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
It is ugly chaos in a beautiful body! Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Love is a lead feather, bright smoke, cold fire, Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire,
sick health! sick health!
Sleep while being awake! Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love I feel does not make me feel loved. This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Do you not laugh at me? Dost thou not laugh?
No Cousin I would rather cry.. No, coz, I rather weep.
Cry? At what? Good heart, at what?
At your heart’s sadness. At thy good heart’s oppression.
Why, that is how true love is. Why, such is love’s transgression.
Though my sadness sits heavily is in my chest, Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
You want to make me talk Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest
To you which will only With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown
make me sadder? Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Love is smoke made sighs. Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;
When the smoke is gone, it burns eyes; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes;
That can only be washed away with tears Being vex’d a sea nourish’d with lovers’ tears:
What else is love?  It is a careful madness, What is it else? a madness most discreet,
It is choking on candy.   A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
Goodbye, cousin. Farewell, my coz.
Wait! I am coming too; Soft! I will go along;
And if you leave, then you will desert me. An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
I can’t do you wrong; I am not myself; Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here;
I am not Romeo, he’s somewhere else. This is not Romeo, he’s some other where.
Even though you’re sad tell me who you love. Tell me in sadness, who is that you love.
Why you want me to whine and tell you? What, shall I groan and tell thee?
Whine? No. Groan! why, no.
But tell me who. But sadly tell me who.
Are you trying to convince a sick man to write his will? Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:
It will just make him feel sicker. Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!
Sadly, I am in love with a woman. In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
I assumed you were in love. I aim’d so near, when I supposed you loved.
A good guess. And she is beautiful. A right good mark-man! And she’s fair I love.
Then cousin you should be able to woo her. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
Well in that guess you miss, she’ll not be won Well, in that hit you miss: she’ll not be hit
With love; she is like the virgin goddess Diana; With Cupid’s arrow; she hath Dian’s wit;
And, she is set to stay chaste, And, in strong proof of chastity well arm’d,
She can avoid Cupid’s arrow . From love’s weak childish bow she lives unharm’d.
She will not be won with words, She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
Or won by appearance, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,
Or won with god that can corrupt a saint: Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold:
She is gorgeous, and the rest of the world suffers O, she is rich in beauty, only poor,
Since she will not pass the beauty to children. That when she dies with beauty dies her store.
So she has already sworn to be a virgin. Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
She has and she is wasting She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste,
Her beauty. She is For beauty starved with her severity
Denying the future her genes. Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
Since she is too smart and beautiful, She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,
It is no shock I am depressed: To merit bliss by making me despair:
She has given up love and because of that She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow
I am now a dead man walking. Do I live dead that live to tell it now.
Listen to me, Just don’t think about her. Be ruled by me, forget to think of her.
Well then teach me how to stop thinking. O, teach me how I should forget to think.
By using your eyes; By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
Look at other beautiful women. Examine other beauties.
But that is the way ‘Tis the way
To realize how beautiful she is: To call hers exquisite, in question more:
The fake smiles women put on, These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows
Are hypnotic to men; Being black put us in mind they hide the fair;
Even if a woman blinds him, a man cannot forget He that is strucken blind cannot forget
The beautiful face: The precious treasure of his eyesight lost:
If you show me a relatively pretty woman, Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
What should she show me? Other than to say, What doth her beauty serve, but as a note
How beautiful Rosaline is? Where I may read who pass’d that passing fair?
Goodbye, you can’t make me forget her.. Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget.
I will prove you wrong or die in your debt. I’ll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
All Exit Exeunt

SCENE 2. A street.

Montague will be punished same as me But Montague is bound as well as I,
But it will not be harsh, In penalty alike; and ’tis not hard, I think,
Since he and I are the old men to keep peace. For men so old as we to keep the peace.
Both of you are honorable men; Of honourable reckoning are you both;
It is sad you two have been enemies for so long. And pity ’tis you lived at odds so long.
But back to our original conversation, what do you think of my idea? But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
I will say what I have said before: But saying o’er what I have said before:
My child is still very young; My child is yet a stranger in the world;
She is not even 14 years old, She hath not seen the change of fourteen years,
Let her be single for 2 more summers, Let two more summers wither in their pride,
Then she will be ready to marry. Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
Women younger than her have already had children. Younger than she are happy mothers made.
And they are too young . And too soon marr’d are those so early made.
My other children buried in the ground, except her, The earth hath swallow’d all my hopes but she,
She is my everything: She is the hopeful lady of my earth:
But you can try and woo her. But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
She will do what I say mostly but My will to her consent is but a part;
She also need to make her own choice An she agree, within her scope of choice
As long as she and I agree. Lies my consent and fair according voice.
Tonight I am having a feast, This night I hold an old accustom’d feast,
Where I am inviting many people, Whereto I have invited many a guest,
That I like and you will also be invited, Such as I love; and you, among the store,
The more the merrier. One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
Tonight, we will be in my house At my poor house look to behold this night
With the stars in the sky: Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:
Which is the best time for young men Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
At the end of April When well-apparell’d April on the heel
With winter finally being fully removed Of limping winter treads, even such delight
Women are like flowers that bloom at night. Among fresh female buds shall you this night
In my house we will see all types of men, Inherit at my house; hear all, all see,
And they will all try to woo her: And like her most whose merit most shall be:
But I will only vouch for you. Which on more view, of many mine being one
Many men can ask me for her and I won’t let any have her, May stand in number, though in reckoning none,
Let’s go now. Come, go with me.
To PETER, giving a paper To PETER, giving a paper
Sir, go around Go, sirrah, trudge about
Through all of Verona; find the people Through fair Verona; find those persons out
On the list, and invite them Whose names are written there, and to them say,
To my house to stay awhile. My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.
I must find the people whose names are written here! Also It is written here that a shoemaker make dresses that a seamstress makes shoes, as well as a painter catches fish and a fisherman draws; Anyway I need to find the people written here, and I have no way to read what is written here. I must find someone who is literate.– Here soon! Find them out whose names are written here! It is written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to find those persons whose names are here writ, and can never find what names the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned.–In good time.
Hey, another love can help you get over this one Tut, man, one fire burns out another’s burning,
Like how you worry less about your sadness when your friend is sad; One pain is lessen’d by another’s anguish;
And when you are dizzy from spinning around, just turn the other way; Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;
You can get over this by moving on: One desperate grief cures with another’s languish:
Find someone else to catch your eye, Take thou some new infection to thy eye,
And everything terrible about the other will end. And the rank poison of the old will die.
Drugs should fix that. Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that.
What will it fix? For what, I pray thee?
When you hurt your shin. For your broken shin.
Romeo are you crazy? Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
No I am not crazy but I am thinking more than a mad man; Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is;
I am kept prisoner to my own head without food, Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
I am tortured and beat and… Oh hello sir. Whipp’d and tormented and–God-den, good fellow.
Good after noon, Excuse me can you read? God gi’ god-den. I pray, sir, can you read?
Yes, I can read my future using my misery. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
But you could have learned that without a book, but I mean can you read anything that you see? Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I pray, can you read anything you see?
If I know the language and letters I can. Ay, if I know the letters and the language.
Thanks for being honest, good-bye Ye say honestly: rest you merry!
Wait. Wait. I can read Stay, fellow; I can read.
Reads Reads
‘Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; ‘Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;
County Anselme and his sisters; County Anselme and his sisters;
the lady widow of Vitravio;   the lady widow of Vitravio;  
Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces; Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces;
Mercutio and his brother Valentine; Mercutio and his brother Valentine;
Mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; Mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters;
my fair niece Rosaline; my fair niece Rosaline;
Livia; Livia;
Signior Valentio and his cousin Signior Valentio and his cousin
Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.’ Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.’
That’s alot of people. Where are they invited? A fair assembly: whither should they come?
There. Up.
Where? Whither?
To supper at our house. To supper; to our house.
Whose house? Whose house?
My master’s. My master’s.
Of course. That should have been my first question. Indeed, I should have ask’d you that before.
Now I will tell you, my master is the Now I’ll tell you without asking: my master is the
great rich Capulet; and if you’re not a Montagues, great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house
Please come and have a glass of wine of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine.
Have a good day! Rest you merry!
Exit PETER Exit
Rosaline will be at Capulet’s party At this same ancient feast of Capulet’s
Who you apparently love so much, Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest,
There will also be other beautiful women: With all the admired beauties of Verona:
Let’s go to the party and Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,
Compare her to the women I pick Compare her face with some that I shall show,
And I will make you think your swan, Rosaline, to be a crow. And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
When you love as religiously as I do, When the devout religion of mine eye
You will understand how wrong you are, Maintains such falsehood,
And your tears will burn; then turn tears to fires;
And those who don’t die when drowned, And these, who often drown’d could never die,
These heretics to love, will be burned! Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!
You lie if you think there is anyone more beautiful than Rosaline! Even the sun, that sees all, One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun
Hasn’t seen someone as beautiful as her since the beginning of time. Ne’er saw her match since first the world begun
You only thought she was pretty because no one else was around., Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by,
It is easy to be confident in your eyes when alone: Herself poised with herself in either eye:
But compare her But in that crystal scales let there be weigh’d
Your love, Rosaline to another woman Your lady’s love against some other maid
I find at the party, That I will show you shining at this feast,
And she will be nothing even if you think she is everything now. And she shall scant show well that now shows best.
I will go, not because I believe you, I’ll go along, no such sight to be shown,
But to prove you wrong. But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.
All Exit Exeunt

SCENE 3. A room in Capulet’s house.

Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse
Nurse, where’s my daughter? Nurse go get her. Nurse, where’s my daughter? call her forth to me.
Nurse Nurse
I swear on my virginity I had when I was twelve, Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old,
I asked her to come. What is it girl? I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird!
What the hell! Where is she? God forbid! Where’s this girl? What, Juliet!
Oh who is calling me? How now! who calls?
Nurse Nurse
Your mother. Your mother.
I’m here. Madam, I am here.
What do you want? What is your will?
I need to talk to you:–Nurse, can you leave, This is the matter:–Nurse, give leave awhile,
We must talk in private:–nurse, come back; We must talk in secret:–nurse, come back again;
I remembered, we need your opinion. I have remember’d me, thou’s hear our counsel.
You know how important my daughter’s age is. Thou know’st my daughter’s of a pretty age.
Nurse Nurse
I know how old she is to the hour. Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
Well she is almost fourteen. She’s not fourteen.
Nurse Nurse
I will bet 14 of my teeth,– I’ll lay fourteen of my teeth,–
Though I only have 4 teeth– And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four–
That she is almost 14 years old. How long is it She is not fourteen. How long is it now
Til August 1st? To Lammas-tide?
2 weeks and a few days. A fortnight and odd days.
Nurse Nurse
Either way, Even or odd, of all days in the year,
She will be fourteen on July 31st. Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen.
Susan who is gone and Juliet Susan and she–God rest all Christian souls!–
Were the same age: and Susan is with God; Were of an age: well, Susan is with God;
She was too good for me: anyway, She was too good for me: but, as I said,
On July 31st, she will be fourteen On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;
Then she will marry; I remember it well. That shall she, marry; I remember it well.
There was an earthquake eleven years ago; ‘Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;
The same day she stopped breastfeeding,–I never will forget it,– And she was wean’d,–I never shall forget it,–
Of all the days of the year, that day: Of all the days of the year, upon that day:
For I was cleaning my breasts with the herb  wormwood, For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,
Sitting outside under a birdhouse. Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall;
You and you husband were in Mantua:– My lord and you were then at Mantua:–
I remember it all:–but, anyway, Nay, I do bear a brain:–but, as I said,
When your daughter tasted the wormwood When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple
On my breast and realized it was bitter, Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool,
She was irritated and let go of my breast! To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug!
The earthquake then shook the birdhouse: and without any hesitation Shake quoth the dove-house: ’twas no need, I trow,
I ran inside: To bid me trudge:
And that was eleven years ago; And since that time it is eleven years;
And at that point, she could stand, For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood,
And she could walk and run around; She could have run and waddled all about;
And she could before I met her: For even the day before, she broke her brow:
And then my husband–God rest his soul! And then my husband–God be with his soul!
And it was a happy soul, picked up your daughter: A’ was a merry man–took up the child:
“Well” He said to the grumpy child “Did you fall on your face? ‘Yea,’ quoth he, ‘dost thou fall upon thy face?
When you are smarter you will lay on your back; Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;
Will you not, Jule?’ and, by God, Wilt thou not, Jule?’ and, by my holidame,
Juliet left crying and said Yes.’ The pretty wretch left crying and said ‘Ay.’
It is so funny to think about now To see, now, how a jest shall come about!
I swear even in a thousand years, I warrant, an I should live a thousand years,
I will never forget it: ‘Will you not, Jule?’ he said; I never should forget it: ‘Wilt thou not, Jule?’ quoth he;
And, your foolish pretty daughter hesitated and said “Yes” And, pretty fool, it stinted and said ‘Ay.’
Please shut up. Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace.
Nurse Nurse
Of course ma’am: except I can’t stop laughing, Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh,
To think she would run away and say “Yes” To think it should leave crying and say ‘Ay.’
And also she had a bump on her forehead And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow
As big as a rooster’s balls; A bump as big as a young cockerel’s stone;
And she cried: A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly:
“Well” Said my husband  “Did you fall on your face? ‘Yea,’ quoth my husband,’fall’st upon thy face?
You will be on you back when you are of marrying age. Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;
Will you not, Jule?’ she hesitated and said  ‘Yes.’ Wilt thou not, Jule?’ it stinted and said ‘Ay.’
Please Nurse I am asking you to stop too. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.
Nurse Nurse
Alright, I’m done. God bless you! Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace!
You were the prettiest baby I nursed: Thou wast the prettiest babe that e’er I nursed:
And if I get to see you married, An I might live to see thee married once,
My life will be complete. I have my wish.
Speaking of, marriage is what Marry, that ‘marry’ is the very theme
I wanted to talk about. My daughter, Juliet, I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
What do you think about marriage? How stands your disposition to be married?
I don’t really think about that honor. It is an honour that I dream not of.
Nurse Nurse
An honor! If I wasn’t the only person to nurse you, An honour! were not I thine only nurse,
I would say you had sucked wisdom from my nipple. I would say thou hadst suck’d wisdom from thy teat.
Well, let’s think about marriage, women younger than you Well, think of marriage now; younger than you,
In Verona, women of high standing, Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
Are made already mothers: If I remember, Are made already mothers: by my count,
I was a mother at your age I was your mother much upon these years
And you are still a virgin. After all that is said: That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:
It seems Paris wants you to love him. The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
Nurse Nurse
A man, young lady! He’s a real man A man, young lady! lady, such a man
Of the world–why, he looks sculpted from wax. As all the world–why, he’s a man of wax.
He is prettier than any flower here during the summer. Verona’s summer hath not such a flower.
Nurse Nurse
He is a mighty flower, such a flower. Nay, he’s a flower; in faith, a very flower.
What do you think? Can you love him? What say you? can you love the gentleman?
Tonight you shall see him at the party; This night you shall behold him at our feast;
Read Paris’s face, Read o’er the volume of young Paris’ face,
And find the beauty drawn on it; And find delight writ there with beauty’s pen;
Examine every feature, Examine every married lineament,
And see how they work together, And see how one another lends content
And if you see anything imperfect, And what obscured in this fair volume lies
Look into his eyes. Find written in the margent of his eyes.
His love for you This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
Will make him more beautiful to you: To beautify him, only lacks a cover:
You should feel pride The fish lives in the sea, and ’tis much pride
His appearance matches yours: For fair without the fair within to hide:
Many eyes will be looking at him, That book in many’s eyes doth share the glory,
And his status; That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
So you can gain his status, So shall you share all that he doth possess,
And by having him you won’t be any less. By having him, making yourself no less.
Nurse Nurse
Any less! no, bigger; women tend to increase in size from men, for about 9 months. No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men.
So, can you try to love Paris? Speak briefly, can you like of Paris’ love?
I will try to love him: I’ll look to like, if looking liking move:
But no more But no more deep will I endart mine eye
Than what I have permission to. Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.
Ma’am your guests are here, dinner is all done, you were called for, Juliet was asked for, the nurse scolded in the pantry, and we have so much everything. I must leave; Please, come on. Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight.
We’re coming. We follow thee.
Juliet, don’t forget Paris. Juliet, the county stays.
Nurse Nurse
Go, girl, find a man to make your days and nights happy.   Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
All Exit Exeunt

SCENE 4. A street.

Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others
What is our excuse for being here? What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
Or should we go in unapologetically? Or shall we on without a apology?
We don’t need any excuse: The date is out of such prolixity:
No Cupid will sneak us in We’ll have no Cupid hoodwink’d with a scarf,
Bearing his bow, Bearing a Tartar’s painted bow of lath,
Keeping the ladies away; Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;
And no entrance speech Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
To prompt us: After the prompter, for our entrance:
They can use what they like to judge us; But let them measure us by what they will;
Then we will dance a few songs and leave. We’ll measure them a measure, and be gone.
Give me the flashlight: I am not up for partying; Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling;
So I don’t ruin it for you I will stay outside. Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
No you have to dance. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
I don’t dance, you dance Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes
Very well: My shoes become heavy With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead
And plant me in one spot. So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
You are a lover; see if you can borrow Cupid’s wings, You are a lover; borrow Cupid’s wings,
And dance with the rest of us. And soar with them above a common bound.
I am still too hurt by cupid’s arrow I am too sore enpierced with his shaft
To use his feather and on the ground To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,
I can’t even jump from sadness: I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:
Love’s burden is heavy on my shoulders. Under love’s heavy burden do I sink.
And you should be heavy on love’s shoulders then! And, to sink in it, should you burden love;
You are too sad for such a wonderful thing. Too great oppression for a tender thing.
Is love wonderful? it is rough, Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,
Rude and wild, and it hurts like thorns. Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
If love is rough with you, be rough with love; If love be rough with you, be rough with love;
Hurt love for hurting you, and you can beat love. Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
Give me a mask: Give me a case to put my visage in:
A cover for a mask! What do I care? A visor for a visor! what care I
Who cares about imperfections? What curious eye doth quote deformities?
All the women should blush at me. Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.
Let’s knock and go in, Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in,
Come on stand up. But every man betake him to his legs.
I will stay outside: Let light women A torch for me: let wantons light of heart
Dance, Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels,
While I stay still like an old man; For I am proverb’d with a grandsire phrase;
I will keep watch. I’ll be a candle-holder, and look on.
Love isn’t fair so I am done. The game was ne’er so fair, and I am done.
Psh, You boring mouse, police are out: Tut, dun’s the mouse, the constable’s own word:
If you are lame, we will pull you from the swamp If thou art dun, we’ll draw thee from the mire
Of this love, where you are stuck Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick’st
Up to the ears. Come on it is getting late! Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!
No it is already late. Nay, that’s not so.
I mean, it is late compared to the start of the party I mean, sir, in delay
Our lamps are going out like the sun at dusk. We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
You know what we mean, for you understand us Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
Most other times. Five times in that ere once in our five wits.
I know it is supposed to be fun going to this party; And we mean well in going to this mask;
But it isn’t a good idea. But ’tis no wit to go.
Why, may I ask? Why, may one ask?
I had a dream. I dream’d a dream to-night.
So did I. And so did I.
Well, what was yours? Well, what was yours?
That dreamers often lie. That dreamers often lie.
In bed asleep, where their dreams are true. In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.
Well, then, I see Queen Mab has been with you. O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
She is a nurse to fairies, and she is She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes
no bigger than a crystal In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
For someone’s finger, On the fore-finger of an alderman,
She has a carriage drawn by skeletons Drawn with a team of little atomies
That lands on men’s noses while they sleep; Athwart men’s noses as they lie asleep;
Her wagon-spokes are made of spiders’ legs, Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders’ legs,
The cover of the wagon is wings of grasshoppers, The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,
And traces of spider’s web, The traces of the smallest spider’s web,
Decorated with moon beams, The collars of the moonshine’s watery beams,
Her whip is cricket’s bone, Her whip of cricket’s bone, the lash of film,
Her driver is a small grey gnat, Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,
No bigger than a little worm Not so big as a round little worm
Off the finger of a lazy woman; Prick’d from the lazy finger of a maid;
Her chariot is an empty hazelnut Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut
Emptied by squirrels or bugs, Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
It is the best from the fairies wagons. Time out o’ mind the fairies’ coachmakers.
And like that she rides around every night And in this state she gallops night by night
Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love; Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love;
Courtmen, that dream of court, O’er courtiers’ knees, that dream on court’sies straight,
Or lawyers who dream of money, O’er lawyers’ fingers, who straight dream on fees,
Or ladies, who dream of being kissed, O’er ladies ‘ lips, who straight on kisses dream,
But if Mab is angry , Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
Then their dreams are tainted: Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:
Or other times for the courtman, Sometime she gallops o’er a courtier’s nose,
He dreams of a new suit; And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
And sometimes she will use an offering pig And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig’s tail
To tickle the sleeping pastor’s nose, Tickling a parson’s nose as a’ lies asleep,
Then he dreams of more offerings: Then dreams, he of another benefice:
Sometimes she gets a soldier’s neck, Sometime she driveth o’er a soldier’s neck,
And he dreams of killing his foes, And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambushes, Spanish blades, Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of alcohol; and then he hears Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon
Drums, and then he wakes, Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
And being scared says a prayer And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two
And sleeps again. It is all Mab And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That mats horses manes in the night, That plats the manes of horses in the night,
And makes the hair stand up, And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,
Hair once untangled, a complete mess: Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:
This is the hag, when women sleep on their backs, This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
Gives her sex dreams and teaches her to create That presses them and learns them first to bear,
And carry a child: Making them women of good carriage:
She is– This is she–
Mercutio Stop! Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
You’re not saying anything Thou talk’st of nothing.
True, I’m talking about dreams, True, I talk of dreams,
Which come from an empty brain, Which are the children of an idle brain,
And are born from nothing but fantasy, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
They are thinner than air Which is as thin of substance as the air
And more consistent than the wind, who And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
Keeps the north cold at the end of summer, Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
And, when the wind is angry, And, being anger’d, puffs away from thence,
It moves more south. Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
This wind, has pulled us off track; This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves;
They are done eating, we need to go in. Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
My mind still worried I fear, too early: for my mind misgives
That something bad Some consequence yet hanging in the stars
Bitterly beginning tonight Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
will happen With this night’s revels and expire the term
That will cause my Of a despised life closed in my breast
My vile and untimely death. By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
But my friends have convinced me, But He, that hath the steerage of my course,
Let’s go! You thirsty gentlemen. Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen.
Play Band!! . Strike, drum.
All Exit Exeunt

SCENE 5. A hall in Capulet’s house.