The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (1022 page)

First Musician

No.

No.

Peter

Then, you’re gonna get it.

I will then give it you soundly.

First Musician

Get what?

What will you give us?

Peter

You’ll get no money, I swear!  You minstrel!

No money, on my faith; but the gleek,--I will give you the minstrel.

First Musician

You are nothing but a servant.

Then will I give you the serving-creature.

Peter

Then, I will serve up a dagger for you.  I will make you sing do-re-mi.  Do you hear me?

Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on your pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you, I'll fa you: do you note me?

First Musician

You can’t make us sing!

An you re us and fa us, you note us.

Second Musician

Please, put away your dagger and stop messing around.

Pray you put up your dagger, and put out your wit.

Peter

You don’t like my joking around?  I will beat you with my jokes.  Answer me this:  Doesn’t music soothe the soul like the song says, “When grief wounds your heart and sadness grips your mind, listen to the silver sound of music.”  What do you say to that?

Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger.--Answer me like men: 'When griping grief the heart doth wound, And doleful dumps the mind oppress, Then music with her silver sound'-- why 'silver sound'? why 'music with her silver sound'?-- What say you, Simon Catling?

First Musician

Because the sound of silver is a happy sound.

Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.

Peter

(To the second Musician.) What do you say, sir?

Pretty!--What say you, Hugh Rebeck?

Second Musician

I think it’s because musicians will play for silver.

I say 'silver sound' because musicians sound for silver.

Peter

That’s a good answer.  (To the third Musician.)  What do you think?

Pretty too!--What say you, James Soundpost?

Third Musician

I have no idea.

Faith, I know not what to say.

Peter

Well, I’ll tell you.  You’re the singer, for heaven’s sake.  If it were not for music, you would have no songs to sing.  “Music with her silver sound makes you feel fine.”

O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will say for you. It is 'music with her silver sound' because musicians have no gold for sounding:-- 'Then music with her silver sound With speedy help doth lend redress.'

(Exit Peter.)

First Musician

What a crazy man!

What a pestilent knave is this same!

Second Musician

Don’t worry about him.  Come on.  We’ll wait for the mourners and stay for dinner.

Hang him, Jack!--Come, we'll in here; tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner.

(Exit all.)

Scene I:  A street in Mantua.

(Enter Romeo.)

Romeo

If my dreams are correct, I am going to hear some good news today.  My heart is light, and I feel cheerful today.  I dreamed my lady came and found me dead.  She revived me with her kisses.  Then, I became an emperor.  Oh, how wonderful it would be to have my love with me, when just thinking about her fills me with joy.

If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand; My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. I dreamt my lady came and found me dead,-- Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave to think!-- And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips, That I reviv'd, and was an emperor. Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd, When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!

(Enter Balthasar.)

Hey Balthasar!  How are you?  Any news from Verona?  Did you bring me letters from the friar?  How is my lady?  Is my father okay?  How is Juliet?  Nothing can be wrong, if she is well.

News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar? Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar? How doth my lady? Is my father well? How fares my Juliet? that I ask again; For nothing can be ill if she be well.

Balthasar

She is well and nothing is wrong, except her body is in Capulet’s tomb.  She is with the angels.  I saw her laid to rest in her family’s vault.  So, I came to tell you.  I’m sorry to have to tell you such bad news, but I thought you’d want to know.

Then she is well, and nothing can be ill: Her body sleeps in Capel's monument, And her immortal part with angels lives. I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault, And presently took post to tell it you: O, pardon me for bringing these ill news, Since you did leave it for my office, sir.

Romeo

Are you sure?  Then, I curse the stars.  Get me some ink and paper, and hire some horses.  I will leave here tonight.

Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!-- Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, And hire post-horses. I will hence to-night.

Balthasar

Please, sir, think it through.  You are not thinking clearly.  You are going to get into trouble.

I do beseech you, sir, have patience: Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure.

Romeo

Don’t worry about me.  Just go get the things I need.  Do you have any letters from the friar?

Tush, thou art deceiv'd: Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do. Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?

Balthasar

No, my lord.

No, my good lord.

Romeo

It doesn’t matter, anyway.  Go on and get the horses.  I’ll be with you in a minute.

No matter: get thee gone, And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.

(Exit Balthasar.)

Well, Juliet.  I will be with you tonight.  Now, how will I do it?  I remember an apothecary who lives around here who could give me a poisonous tonic.  He looked worn out with his shabby clothes and thin body.  I remember the crazy things in his shop, and thinking if ever I needed a poison to take my life, this is where I would come.  I need him now.  This is his house, but he is closed.  Hello, pharmacist!

Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night. Let's see for means;--O mischief, thou art swift To enter in the thoughts of desperate men! I do remember an apothecary,-- And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I noted In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, Culling of simples; meagre were his looks, Sharp misery had worn him to the bones; And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, An alligator stuff'd, and other skins Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves A beggarly account of empty boxes, Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds, Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses, Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show. Noting this penury, to myself I said, An if a man did need a poison now, Whose sale is present death in Mantua, Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him. O, this same thought did but forerun my need; And this same needy man must sell it me. As I remember, this should be the house: Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.-- What, ho! apothecary!

(Enter apothecary.)

Apothecary

Who is calling me so loudly?

Who calls so loud?

Romeo

Come here, man.  I see that you are poor, and I have money for a bit of poison that will work quickly and is strong enough to kill a man.  

Come hither, man.--I see that thou art poor; Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have A dram of poison; such soon-speeding gear As will disperse itself through all the veins That the life-weary taker mall fall dead; And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath As violently as hasty powder fir'd Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.

Apothecary

I have some, but Mantuan laws forbid the selling of it.

Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law Is death to any he that utters them.

Romeo

How do you fear death when you are already poor and wretched?  Your cheeks are sunken in with famine and your eyes show signs of starvation.  You look like a beggar.  The world is not your friend, nor the law.  The world will not help you become rich.  It aims to keep you poor.  But, if you break the law, you may have this money.

Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes, Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back, The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law: The world affords no law to make thee rich; Then be not poor, but break it and take this.

Apothecary

Not I, but my poverty, consents.

My poverty, but not my will consents.

Romeo

Then, I pay your poverty.

I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.

Apothecary

Here, put this in any liquid and drink it.  When you drink it all, even if you had the strength of twenty men, you will die.

Put this in any liquid thing you will, And drink it off; and, if you had the strength Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight.

Romeo

Here is your gold, the killer of more men than this poison.  It is more poisonous than what you have given me.  Farewell, and buy some food to put some meat on your bones.  Come on sweet drink, go with me to Juliet’s grave, where I will use you.

There is thy gold; worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murders in this loathsome world Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell: I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. Farewell: buy food and get thyself in flesh.-- Come, cordial and not poison, go with me To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee.

(Exit all.)

Scene II:  Friar Lawrence’s cell.

(Enter Friar John.)

Friar John

Holy Franciscan Friar!  Hello, brother!

Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!

(Enter Friar Lawrence.)

Friar Lawrence

Is that the voice of Friar John of Mantua?  Welcome.  How is Romeo?  Do you have a letter from him?

This same should be the voice of Friar John. Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo? Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.

Friar John

I don’t know.  I have been here visiting the sick.  We were all put into isolation because of the fear of contagion.  So, I haven’t been to Mantua.

Going to find a barefoot brother out, One of our order, to associate me, Here in this city visiting the sick, And finding him, the searchers of the town, Suspecting that we both were in a house Where the infectious pestilence did reign, Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth; So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.

Friar Lawrence

Who took my letters, then?

Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo?

Friar John

No one.  I still have it.  I could not even get a messenger because of the fear of infection.

I could not send it,--here it is again,-- Nor get a messenger to bring it thee, So fearful were they of infection.

Friar Lawrence

Oh, no!  If Romeo did not get the letter, then I fear he is in danger.  Friar John, go now and get me a crowbar.  Bring it back here, quickly.

Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood, The letter was not nice, but full of charge Of dear import; and the neglecting it May do much danger. Friar John, go hence; Get me an iron crow and bring it straight Unto my cell.

Friar John

Okay, I’ll go as fast as I can.

I'll go and bring it thee.