Romeo and Juliet Act 2 Scene 5
Capulet's orchard. Noon.
The Original
Plain Modern English
Enter Juliet.
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 glide than the sun's beams,
Driving back shadows over louring 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 would 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.
O God, she comes!
Juliet
The clock struck nine when I sent the Nurse.
She promised to be back in half an hour.
Maybe she can't find him — no, that can't be it.
Oh, she's so slow! Love's messengers should be thoughts,
which glide ten times faster than sunbeams
driving the shadows back over gloomy hills.
That's why swift-winged doves pull love's chariot,
and why wind-fast Cupid has wings.
The sun has now reached the highest point
of its daily journey — and from nine to twelve
is three long hours, and still she isn't here.
If she had feelings and warm young blood,
she'd move as fast as a ball —
my words would throw her to my love,
and his would throw her back to me.
But old people often act half dead:
clumsy, slow, heavy, and pale as lead.
Oh God — here she comes!
Enter Nurse and Peter.
Juliet
O honey nurse, what news?
Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
Juliet
Oh, sweet Nurse — what's the news?
Did you meet him? Send your man away.
Nurse
Peter, stay at the gate.
Nurse
Peter, wait at the gate.
Exit Peter.
Juliet
Now, good sweet nurse,—O Lord, why look'st thou sad?
Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news
By playing it to me with so sour a face.
Juliet
Now, sweet Nurse — oh Lord, why do you look sad?
Even if the news is bad, tell it cheerfully.
If it's good, you're ruining the music of it
by playing it with such a sour face.
Nurse
I am a-weary, give me leave awhile:
Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!
Nurse
I'm exhausted. Give me a moment.
Oh, my aching bones! What a trek I've had!
Juliet
I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news:
Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak.
Juliet
I wish you had my bones and I had your news.
Come on, please, speak. Good, good Nurse — speak!
Nurse
Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile?
Do you not see that I am out of breath?
Nurse
Good heavens, what's the rush? Can't you wait a minute?
Can't you see I'm out of breath?
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?
Juliet
How can you be out of breath when you have breath enough
to tell me you're out of breath?
The excuse you're making for the delay
is longer than the story you're delaying.
Is the news good or bad? Just answer that.
Say one or the other and I'll wait for the details.
Just tell me — good or bad?
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?
Nurse
Well, you've made a poor choice. You don't know
how to pick a man. Romeo? No, not him — though his
face is better than any man's, and his leg beats
everyone's. And as for his hand, and foot, and body —
well, they're not worth discussing, but they're
beyond compare. He's not the flower of courtesy,
but I promise you he's as gentle as a lamb. Off you go,
girl — serve God. Have you eaten at home?
Juliet
No, no: but all this did I know before.
What says he of our marriage? what of that?
Juliet
No, no. And I knew all of this already.
What does he say about our marriage? What about that?
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 jaunting up and down!
Nurse
Lord, my head aches! What a head I've got!
It's pounding like it'll break into twenty pieces.
And my back on the other side — oh, my back, my back!
Curse you for sending me running around,
catching my death traipsing up and down!
Juliet
I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.
Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?
Juliet
I really am sorry you're not well.
Sweet, sweet, sweet Nurse — tell me, what does my love say?
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?
Nurse
Your love says, like an honest gentleman — and a
courteous one, and kind, and handsome, and I'll
warrant a virtuous one — where's your mother?
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?'
Juliet
Where's my mother? She's inside.
Where else would she be? What a strange answer!
'Your love says, like an honest gentleman —
where is your mother?'
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.
Nurse
Oh, for heaven's sake!
Are you so worked up? Well, excuse me!
Is this the medicine for my aching bones?
From now on, run your own errands.
Juliet
Here's such a coil! come, what says Romeo?
Juliet
What a fuss! Come on — what does Romeo say?
Nurse
Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
Nurse
Do you have permission to go to confession today?
Juliet
I have.
Juliet
I do.
Nurse
Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' 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.
Nurse
Then hurry off to Friar Laurence's cell.
A husband is waiting there to make you a wife.
There's the blood rushing into your cheeks —
they turn scarlet at the slightest news.
Off to church with you. I have to go another way
to fetch a ladder your love will use
to climb up to your window after dark.
I'm the workhorse who slaves for your pleasure —
but you'll be doing the bearing tonight.
Go on. I'm off to dinner. Hurry to the cell.
Juliet
Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell.
Juliet
Off to great good fortune! Goodbye, honest Nurse.
Exeunt.