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 |
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| Enter ROMEO and
JULIET aloft |
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| ROMEO and JULIET
enter above the stage. |
|
| | JULIET |
| |
Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day. |
| |
It was the nightingale, and not the lark, |
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That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear. |
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Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree. |
| 5 |
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. |
|
| JULIET |
|
Are you going? It's still a long time until daybreak.
Don't be afraid. That sound you heard was the nightingale
, not the lark. Every night the nightingale chirps on that
pomegranate-tree. Believe me, my love, it was the
nightingale. |
|
| | ROMEO |
| |
It was the lark, the herald of the morn, |
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No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks |
| |
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. |
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Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day |
| 10 |
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. |
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I must be gone and live, or stay and die. |
|
| ROMEO |
|
It was the lark, the bird that sings at dawn, not the nightingale.
Look, my love, what are those streaks of light in the clouds parting
in the east? Night is over, and day is coming. If I want to live, I
must go. If I stay, I'll die. |
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| | JULIET |
| |
Yon light is not daylight, I know it, I. |
| |
It is some meteor that the sun exhales |
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To be to thee this night a torchbearer, |
| 15 |
And light thee on thy way to Mantua. |
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Therefore stay yet. Thou need'st not to be gone. |
|
| JULIET |
|
That light is not daylight, I know it. It's some meteor
coming out of the sun to light your way to Mantua. So stay for a
while. You don't have to go yet. |
|
| | ROMEO |
| |
Let me be ta'en. Let me be put to death. |
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I am content, so thou wilt have it so. |
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I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye. |
| 20 |
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow. |
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Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat |
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The vaulty heaven so high above our heads. |
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I have more care to stay than will to go. |
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Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.— |
| 25 |
How is 't, my soul? Let's talk. It is not
day. |
|
| ROMEO |
|
Let me be captured. Let me be put to death. I am content, if
that's the way you want it. I'll say the light
over there isn't morning. I'll say it's
the reflection of the moon. I'll say that sound
isn't the lark ringing in the sky. I want to stay more than
I want to go. Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wants it this way.
How are you, my love? Let's talk. It's not
daylight. |
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Read the complete texts of Shakespeare's plays along with an easy to understand translation.
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