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Get translations of every Shakespeare play at www.litcharts.com70BENVOLIOI do but keep the peace. Put up thy sword,Or manage it to part these men with me.BENVOLIOI’m just trying to keep the peace. Put away your sword, orelse use it to help me stop this fighting.TYBALTWhat, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word,As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee.Have at thee, coward!TYBALTYou hold your sword drawn out, and say “peace?” I hatethat word, just as I hate hell, all Montagues, and you. Nowlet's fight, you coward!CITIZENSClubs, bills, and partisans! Strike! Beat them down!Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!CITIZENSBeat them down with your clubs, spears, and axes. Hitthem! Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!BENVOLIO and TYBALT fight. Other Montagues and Capulets enterand also start fighting. Veronese CITIZENS enter, carrying clubs.CAPULETWhat noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!CAPULET, in a sleeping gown, enters with LADY CAPULET.75859095100CAPULETWhat is this noise? Give me my long sword. Now!CAPULET, in his nightgown, and LADY CAPULET enter.LADY CAPULETA crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a sword?LADY CAPULETYou need a crutch! Why are you calling for a sword?CAPULETMy sword, I say! Old Montague is come,And flourishes his blade in spite of me.CAPULETGive me my sword, I said! Old Montague has arrived, andhe’s waving his sword just to spite me.MONTAGUE enters, sword drawn, with LADY MONTAGUE.80BENVOLIO and TYBALT fight. Other Montagues and Capuletsenter and also start fighting. Veronese CITIZENS enter,carrying clubs.MONTAGUE, with his sword out, and LADY MONTAGUEenter.MONTAGUEThou villain Capulet! Hold me not. Let me go.MONTAGUEYou are a villain, Capulet! [LADY MONTAGUE grabs his arm]Let go of me. Don’t stop me.LADY MONTAGUEThou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.LADY MONTAGUEYou’re not taking one step to try to fight an enemy.PRINCERebellious subjects, enemies to peace,Profaners of this neighbor-stainèd steel!—Will they not hear? —What, ho! You men, you beasts,That quench the fire of your pernicious rageWith purple fountains issuing from your veins,On pain of torture, from those bloody handsThrow your mistempered weapons to the ground,And hear the sentence of your movèd prince.Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,Have thrice disturbed the quiet of our streetsAnd made Verona’s ancient CitizensCast by their grave-beseeming ornaments,To wield old partisans in hands as old,Cankered with peace, to part your cankered hate.If ever you disturb our streets again,Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.For this time, all the rest depart away.You, Capulet, shall go along with me,And, Montague, come you this afternoonTo know our farther pleasure in this case,To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.PRINCEYou rebels and enemies of the peace, who curse your ownweapons by turning them on your neighbors.PRINCE ESCALUS enters with his attendants.Everyone exits except MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO.MONTAGUEWho set this ancient quarrel new abroach?Speak, nephew. Were you by when it began? 2017 LitCharts LLC v.001[To himself] Can they not hear me?[To the fighters] Silence! You men, you beasts, who can onlyput out the fire of your anger by spilling fountains of blood.I will torture you unless you drop your weapons from yourbloody hands and listen to me, your enraged Prince.Because of nothing more than a casual word from you,Capulet and Montague, three battles have raged in ourcity’s streets. These battles have forced even Verona’selderly citizens to take off their dignified clothes andjewelry and instead pick up old and rusty spears in order toput an end to your fighting. If any of you Capulets orMontagues disturb the peace in the future, you will pay forit with your lives. Now everyone go home. Capulet, youcome with me in order to hear what else I want from you.Montague, you come this afternoon to old Free-town 6 ,where I deliver my judgments. Everyone else, leave thisplace right now, or I will have you killed.6 Here, Shakespeare literallytranslates the Italian name of thePrince's court "Villa Franca,"mentioned in the source material heused for this play.PRINCE ESCALUS enters with his attendants.Everyone exits except MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, andBENVOLIO.MONTAGUEWho stirred this old feud up again? Tell me, nephew. Wereyou around when the fight began?Page 4

Get translations of every Shakespeare play at BENVOLIOHere were the servants of your adversary,And yours, close fighting ere I did approach.I drew to part them. In the instant cameThe fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared,Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears,He swung about his head and cut the winds,Who, nothing hurt withal, hissed him in scorn.While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,Came more and more and fought on part and part,Till the Prince came, who parted either part.BENVOLIOYour servants were fighting Capulet's servants when Iarrived. I drew my sword to try to stop them. Just then, thereckless Tybalt showed up with his sword drawn. Hetaunted me while swinging his sword through the air, whichmade a hissing sound. As we fought, more and moreCapulets and Montagues showed up to join the battle.Finally, the Prince came and stopped the fighting.LADY MONTAGUEOh, where is Romeo? Saw you him today?Right glad I am he was not at this fray.LADY MONTAGUEOh, where’s Romeo? Have you seen him at all today? I’mhappy he wasn’t around for this fight.BENVOLIOMadam, an hour before the worshipped sunPeered forth the golden window of the east,A troubled mind drove me to walk abroad,Where, underneath the grove of sycamoreThat westward rooteth from this city side,So early walking did I see your son.Towards him I made, but he was ‘ware of meAnd stole into the covert of the wood.I, measuring his affections by my own,Which then most sought where most might not be found,Being one too many by my weary self,Pursued my humor not pursuing his,And gladly shunned who gladly fled from me.BENVOLIOMadam, my mind was troubled this morning, so an hourbefore dawn I went out for a walk. As I walked, I saw yourson beneath the sycamore grove that grows near thewestern edge of the city. I walked toward him, but henoticed me and ran and hid in the woods. I assumed that hemust be feeling the same way I was, and was looking for aplace where he wouldn't be found. So I continued on,following my own inclination to not pursue Romeo and askhim what was on his mind. I was happy to leave Romeoalone as he fled from me. Besides, I was feeling so weary ofcompany that even being with myself was being with onetoo many people.MONTAGUEMany a morning hath he there been seen,With tears augmenting the fresh morning’s dew,Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs.But all so soon as the all-cheering sunShould in the farthest east begin to drawThe shady curtains from Aurora’s bed,Away from light steals home my heavy son,And private in his chamber pens himself,Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out,And makes himself an artificial night.Black and portentous must this humor proveUnless good counsel may the cause remove.MONTAGUEHe’s been seen at that spot on many mornings, his tearsadding to the morning dew and his deep sighs thickeningthe clouds in the sky. Then, as soon as the happy sun beginsto dawn 7 , my unhappy son comes home in order to hidefrom the light. He keeps to himself in his bedroom, shuttinghis windows to keep out the daylight so that he can sit in anartificial night. His bad mood is likely to have a bad result,unless someone can give him good advice and remove thecause of his sadness.BENVOLIOMy noble uncle, do you know the cause?BENVOLIOMy noble uncle, do you know what’s causing his mood?MONTAGUEI neither know it nor can learn of him.MONTAGUEI don’t know. And he refuses to tell me.BENVOLIOHave you importuned him by any means?BENVOLIOHave you done everything possible to get him to explain?MONTAGUEBoth by myself and many other friends.But he, his own affections’ counselor,Is to himself—I will not say how true,But to himself so secret and so close,So far from sounding and discovery,As is the bud bit with an envious worm,Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,Or dedicate his beauty to the same.Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow.We would as willingly give cure as know.MONTAGUEI and many of our friends have tried to speak with him. Buthe insists on sharing his thoughts only with himself, thoughI don’t know how good the advice is that he’s giving himself.He keeps his secrets so completely that he’s like a flowerbud that can’t open to the air or sun, because it’s beenpoisoned from within by the bite of a worm. If we could justfind out the cause of his sadness, we’d try to help him aseagerly as we have tried to figure out why he feels sad.BENVOLIOSee, where he comes. So please you, step aside.I’ll know his grievance or be much denied.BENVOLIOHere he comes. If you don't mind, please leave us alone. I’llmake him either tell me what’s wrong, or else he'll justdecline to tell me over and over again.ROMEO enters. 2017 LitCharts LLC v.0017 In the original text, Shakespearealludes to Aurora, the ancient Romangoddess of the dawn.ROMEO enters.Page 5

Get translations of every Shakespeare play at www.litcharts.comMONTAGUEI would thou wert so happy by thy stayTo hear true shrift.—Come, madam, let’s away.MONTAGUEI hope you're lucky enough to hear the true story. Come on,madam, let’s go.BENVOLIOGood morrow, cousin.BENVOLIOGood morning, cousin.MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE exit.160165170175180185190MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE exit.ROMEOIs the day so young?ROMEOIs it still that early?BENVOLIOBut new struck nine.BENVOLIOThe clock has just barely struck nine.ROMEOAy me! Sad hours seem long.Was that my father that went hence so fast?ROMEOOh, my! Time goes by slowly when you’re sad. Was that myfather who just rushed away?BENVOLIOIt was. What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours?BENVOLIOIt was. What sadness is making Romeo's hours so long?ROMEONot having that which, having, makes them short.ROMEOLacking the thing which would make the hours short if I hadit.BENVOLIOIn love?BENVOLIOAre you in love?ROMEOOut.ROMEOOut.BENVOLIOOf love?BENVOLIOSo you’re not in love?ROMEOOut of her favor, where I am in love.ROMEOI am in love. But the one I love does not love me back.BENVOLIOAlas, that love, so gentle in his view,Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!BENVOLIOOh, it is sad how love, which in theory seems like such agentle thing, should in actual experience be so rough!ROMEOAlas, that love, whose view is muffled still,Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!Where shall we dine? —O me! What fray was here?Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.Here’s much to do with hate but more with love.Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate,O anything of nothing first created!O heavy lightness, serious vanity,Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health,Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!This love feel I, that feel no love in this.Dost thou not laugh?ROMEOHow can love, which is supposed to be blind, force you tobe able to do what it wants? Where should we eat?[Noticing blood] Oh my goodness, what fighting happenedhere? No, don’t tell me. I already know: it was somethingthat had a lot to do with hate, but even more to do withlove. Oh, fighting love! Oh, loving hate! Oh, love thatoriginates from nothing! Oh heavy lightness! Seriousfrivolity! Beautiful shapes smashed together to create anugly chaos! Love is like heavy feathers, bright smoke, coldfire, sick health, waking sleep, the opposite of what it is!That’s the love I feel, since no one loves me in return. Areyou laughing?BENVOLIONo, coz, I rather weep.BENVOLIONo, cousin--I'm crying instead.ROMEOGood heart, at what?ROMEOBut why, my good man?BENVOLIOAt thy good heart’s oppression.BENVOLIOBecause of the way love has oppressed your heart.ROMEOWhy, such is love’s transgression.Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,Which thou wilt propagate, to have it pressedWith more of thine. This love that thou hast shownDoth add more grief to too much of mine own.ROMEOThat’s how it it goes with love. My own sadness is a heavyweight on my chest, and now you’re going to add your ownsadness to mine. The love you are showing me is onlyincreasing my grief. Love is like a smoke made out of thesighs of lovers. When the smoke clears, love is a fire burning 2017 LitCharts LLC v.001Page 6

Get translations of every Shakespeare play at www.litcharts.com195200205210215220225230Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes;Being vexed, a sea nourished with loving tears.What is it else? A madness most discreet,A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.Farewell, my coz.in the lovers' eyes. But if that love is thwarted, then it is asea made out of lovers' tears. What else is love? A wisemadness. A sweet candy that makes you choke. Goodbye,my cousin.BENVOLIOSoft! I will go along.And if you leave me so, you do me wrong.BENVOLIOWait! I’ll come with you. If you leave me behind, you’ll beinsulting me.ROMEOTut, I have lost myself. I am not here.This is not Romeo. He’s some other where.ROMEOOh, I’m not acting like myself. It’s as if I’m not even here.This is not Romeo, he’s somewhere else.BENVOLIOTell me in sadness, who is that you love.BENVOLIOTell me, seriously, who is the one you love?ROMEOWhat, shall I groan and tell thee?ROMEOWhat? Should I cry out the name in a groan of sadness?BENVOLIOGroan! Why, no. But sadly, tell me who.BENVOLIOGroan?! Why, of course not. Just tell me who it is.ROMEOA sick man in sadness makes his will,A word ill urged to one that is so ill.In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.ROMEOYou wouldn’t ask a sick man to “seriously” write out hiswill—it would only make him feel worse. Seriously, cousin, Ido love a woman.BENVOLIOI aimed so near when I supposed you loved.BENVOLIOI figured that out when I guessed you were in love.ROMEOA right good markman! And she’s fair I love.ROMEOThen you have good aim! And the woman I love is beautiful.BENVOLIOA right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.BENVOLIOMy dear cousin, a beautiful target is usually the one that ishit fastest.ROMEOWell, in that hit you miss. She’ll not be hitWith Cupid’s arrow. She hath Dian’s wit.And, in strong proof of chastity well armedFrom love’s weak childish bow, she lives uncharmed.She will not stay the siege of loving terms,Nor bide th’ encounter of assailing eyes,Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold.Oh, she is rich in beauty, only poorThat when she dies, with beauty dies her store.ROMEOWell, now you missed the target. She won’t be hit byCupid’s 8 arrow. She’s like Diana 9 , protected by thearmor of chastity. She is immune to the weak and childisharrows of love. She ignores words of love, refuses to evenlet you look at her with loving eyes, or open her lap toreceive golden gifts that would even tempt a saint. Oh, she’srich in beauty. But she’s also poor, because when she diesher beauty will die along with her.BENVOLIOThen she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?BENVOLIOSo she’s sworn to live her life a virgin?ROMEOShe hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste,For beauty, starved with her severity,Cuts beauty off from all posterity.She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,To merit bliss by making me despair.She hath forsworn to love, and in that vowDo I live dead that live to tell it now.ROMEOShe has, and in doing so she wastes her beauty, because byliving in chastity she ensures that she will never pass herbeauty on to her children. She’s too beautiful, and toosmart, to be allowed to gain entrance to Heaven by makingme despair. She’s sworn never to love, and in that vow hassentenced me to a kind of living death.BENVOLIOBe ruled by me. Forget to think of her.BENVOLIOListen to me. Stop thinking about her.ROMEOO, teach me how I should forget to think!ROMEOOh, then teach me to forget how to think!BENVOLIOBy giving liberty unto thine eyes.Examine other beauties.BENVOLIOBy letting your eyes wander. Take a look at other beautifulgirls. 2017 LitCharts LLC v.0018 Cupid is the ancient Roman god oflove, often depicted as a blind childshooting love arrows.9 Diana was the ancient Romangoddess of the hunt and chastity.Page 7

Get translations of every Shakespeare play at www.litcharts.com235240ROMEO‘Tis the wayTo call hers exquisite, in question more.These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows,Being black, puts us in mind they hide the fair.He that is strucken blind cannot forgetThe precious treasure of his eyesight lost.Show me a mistress that is passing fair;What doth her beauty serve but as a noteWhere I may read who passed that passing fair?Farewell. Thou canst not teach me to forget.ROMEOSuch comparisons will only make her own beauty moreobvious. It will be like the masks that pretty girls wear tohide their faces. When they hide their beauty, they make usthink of it more. A blind man can’t forget the preciouseyesight he lost. Show me any beautiful girl. What good isher beauty, other than a reminder of a girl who is evenmore beautiful? Goodbye. You can’t teach me to forget.BENVOLIOI'll pay that doctrine or else die in debt.BENVOLIOI'll teach you how to forget, or else I'll die owing you thelesson.They exit.They exit.Act 1, Scene 2ShakespeareCAPULET, PARIS, and a servant, PETER, enterCAPULETBut Montague is bound as well as I,In penalty alike. And ’tis not hard, I think,For men so old as we to keep the peace.PARISOf honorable reckoning are you both.5 And pity ’tis you lived at odds so long.But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?101520253035Shakescleare TranslationCAPULET, PARIS, and PETER--a servant--enter.CAPULETMontague has sworn the same oath I have, and is bound bythe same penalty. I don’t think it should be hard for men asold as us to remain peaceful.PARISYou both have honorable reputations. It’s a pity you’vebeen enemies for so long. But, now, my lord: how do yourespond to my request?CAPULETBut saying o’er what I have said before.My child is yet a stranger in the world.She hath not seen the change of fourteen years.Let two more summers wither in their prideEre we may think her ripe to be a bride.CAPULETBy repeating what I’ve said before. My child is still extremelyyoung. She’s not even fourteen years old. Let’s allow twomore summers to pass before we consider her ready formarriage.PARISYounger than she are happy mothers made.PARISGirls who are younger than your daughter have becomehappy mothers.CAPULETAnd too soon marred are those so early made.Earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she.She’s the hopeful lady of my earth.But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart.My will to her consent is but a part.An she agreed within her scope of choice,Lies my consent and fair according voice.This night I hold an old accustomed feast,Whereto I have invited many a guestSuch as I love. And you among the store,One more, most welcome, makes my number more.At my poor house look to behold this nightEarth-treading stars that make dark heaven light.Such comfort as do lusty young men feelWhen well-appareled April on the heelOf limping winter treads. Even such delightAmong fresh fennel buds shall you this nightInherit at my house. Hear all, all see,And like her most whose merit most shall be—Which on more view of many, mine, being one,May stand in number, though in reckoning none,Come, go with me.[To PETER, giving him a paper]Go, sirrah, trudge aboutCAPULETGirls who marry that young grow up too quickly. All of myother children are dead and buried in the earth, so all hopeson this earth rest in her. But you may woo her, kind Paris.Win her love. My permission for you to marry her is onlypart of the bargain; she must also agree to marry you. Thenmy blessing on the marriage will confirm her choice. Thisvery night I’m throwing a party that I’ve hosted for manyyears. I’ve invited many guests, many close friends. I’d liketo invite you as a most welcome guest. At my humble hometonight, you’ll see see young women like stars that walk theearth and light the sky from below. Like all lusty youngmen, you’ll be delighted by the young women who are asfresh as spring flowers. Look at them all, and choosewhichever woman you like best. Amidst all these girls, youmay no longer think that my daughter’s the most beautiful.Come with me. 2017 LitCharts LLC v.001[To PETER, handing him a paper] Go, sir 1 , walk all aroundVerona. Find the people whose names are on this list andtell them they’re invited to my house tonight.1 In the original text, "sirrah" isused as a form of address for a personof lower social rank.Page 8

Get translations of every Shakespeare play at www.litcharts.comThrough fair Verona. Find those persons outWhose names are written there, and to them sayMy house and welcome on their pleasure stay.CAPULET and PARIS exit.4045PETERFind them out whose names are written here? It iswritten, that the shoemaker should meddle with his yardand the tailor with his last, the fisher with his penciland the painter with his nets. But I am sent to findthose persons whose names are here writ, and can neverfind what names the writing person hath here writ. Imust to the learned in good time!CAPULET and PARIS exit.PETERFind the people whose names are on this list? It’s writtenthat shoemakers and tailors should use each others’ too

ROMEO AND JULIET A line-by-line translation Prologue Shakespeare Shakescleare Translation Act 1, Scene 1 Shakespeare Shakescleare Translation The CHORUS enters. The CHORUS enters. CHORUS Two households, both alike in dignity In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.