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,
No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east.
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
10
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
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.
JULIET
Yon light is not daylight, I know it, I.
It is some meteor that the sun exhales
To be to thee this night a torchbearer,
15
And light thee on thy way to Mantua.
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.
I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye.
20
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow.
Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat
The vaulty heaven so high above our heads.
I have more care to stay than will to go.
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.
