Romeo and Juliet Act 4 Scene 3
Juliet's chamber. Night.
The Original
Plain Modern English
Enter Juliet and the Nurse.
Juliet
Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse,
I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night,
For I have need of many orisons
To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin.
Juliet
Yes, those clothes are best. But, dear Nurse,
please leave me alone tonight.
I need to say a great many prayers
to persuade heaven to smile on my situation —
which, as you know, is troubled and full of sin.
Enter Lady Capulet.
Lady Capulet
What, are you busy, ho? need you my help?
Lady Capulet
Are you busy? Do you need my help?
Juliet
No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries
As are behoveful for our state to-morrow:
So please you, let me now be left alone,
And let the nurse this night sit up with you;
For, I am sure, you have your hands full all,
In this so sudden business.
Juliet
No, madam. We've picked out everything
suitable for tomorrow.
So please, let me be left alone now,
and let the Nurse sit up with you tonight.
I'm sure you've all got your hands full
with this sudden business.
Lady Capulet
Good night:
Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.
Lady Capulet
Good night.
Get to bed and rest — you need it.
Exeunt Lady Capulet and the Nurse.
Juliet
Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life:
I'll call them back again to comfort me:
Nurse! What should she do here?
My dismal scene I needs must act alone.
Come, vial.
What if this mixture do not work at all?
Shall I be married then to-morrow morning?
No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there.
Juliet
Goodbye. God knows when we'll meet again.
A faint cold fear is running through my veins
that almost freezes the warmth of life itself.
I'll call them back to comfort me —
Nurse! — No. What would she do here?
This grim scene I have to play alone.
Come here, vial.
What if this mixture doesn't work at all?
Will I be married tomorrow morning, then?
No, no — this will prevent that. Lie there.
She lays down her dagger.
Juliet
What if it be a poison, which the friar
Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,
Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,
Because he married me before to Romeo?
I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not,
For he hath still been tried a holy man.
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Romeo
Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!
Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault,
To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
Or, if I live, is it not very like,
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,—
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
Where, for these many hundred years, the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are packed:
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,
At some hours in the night spirits resort;—
Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
So early waking, what with loathsome smells,
And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:—
O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
Environed with all these hideous fears?
And madly play with my forefather's joints?
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,
As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?
O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay!
Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.
Juliet
What if it's really a poison, which the Friar
has cleverly given me to kill me,
in case this marriage disgraces him
because he already married me to Romeo?
I'm afraid it might be — and yet it shouldn't be,
because he's always proved to be a holy man.
What if, once I'm laid in the tomb,
I wake up before Romeo
comes to rescue me? That's a terrifying thought.
Won't I suffocate in that vault,
where no clean air ever reaches through the foul entrance,
and choke to death there before Romeo arrives?
Or if I survive — isn't it very likely
that the horrible idea of death and darkness,
combined with the terror of the place —
a vault, an ancient container
where for hundreds of years the bones
of all my buried ancestors are packed together;
where bloody Tybalt, only just buried,
lies rotting in his shroud; where, they say,
spirits gather at certain hours of the night —
isn't it likely that I,
waking up too early, with the disgusting smells
and shrieks like mandrake roots torn from the ground,
which drive living people mad just to hear —
oh, if I wake, won't I lose my mind,
surrounded by all these hideous terrors?
Won't I madly play with my ancestors' bones,
and pull mangled Tybalt out of his shroud,
and in that frenzy take some great ancestor's bone
and use it like a club to smash out my own desperate brains?
Oh, look! I think I can see my cousin's ghost
hunting for Romeo, who ran him through
on the point of a sword. Stop, Tybalt, stop!
Romeo, I'm coming! I drink this to you.
She falls onto her bed, inside the curtains.