[Stage] The Nurse enters.
Nurse(奶妈)
Mistress! What, mistress! Juliet!—Fast, I warrant her,
she.—
Why, lamb! Why, lady! Fie, you slug-a-bed.
Why, love, I say. Madam! Sweet-heart! Why, bride!
What, not a word?
You take your pennyworths now.
Sleep for a week, for the next night, I warrant,
The County Paris hath set up his rest
That you shall rest but little.—God forgive me,
Marry, and amen.
How sound is she asleep!
I must needs wake her.—Madam, madam, madam!
Ay, let the county take you in your bed.
He’ll fright you up, i’ faith. Will it not be?
What, dressed and in your clothes, and down again?
I must needs wake you. Lady, lady, lady!—
Alas, alas! Help, help! My lady’s dead!—
Oh, welladay, that ever I was born!—
Some aqua vitae, ho!—My lord! My lady!
[Stage] Lady Capulet enters.
Lady Capulet(凯普莱特夫人)
What noise is here?
Nurse(奶妈)
O lamentable day!
Lady Capulet(凯普莱特夫人)
What is the matter?
Nurse(奶妈)
Look, look. O heavy day!
Lady Capulet(凯普莱特夫人)
O me, O me! My child, my only life,
Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!—
Help, help! Call help.
[Stage] Capulet enters.
Capulet(凯普莱特)
For shame, bring Juliet forth. Her lord is come.
Nurse(奶妈)
She’s dead, deceased, she’s dead. Alack the day!
Lady Capulet(凯普莱特夫人)
Alack the day. She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead!
Capulet(凯普莱特)
Ha? Let me see her. Out, alas! She’s cold.
Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff.
Life and these lips have long been separated.
Death lies on her like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
Nurse(奶妈)
O lamentable day!
Lady Capulet(凯普莱特夫人)
O woeful time.
Capulet(凯普莱特)
Death, that hath ta’en her hence to make me wail,
Ties up my tongue and will not let me speak.
Friar Lawrence(劳伦斯神父)
Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
[Stage] Friar Lawrence and Paris enter with Musicians.
Capulet(凯普莱特)
Ready to go, but never to return.
O son! The night before thy wedding day
Hath death lain with thy wife. There she lies,
Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
Death is my son-in-law. Death is my heir.
My daughter he hath wedded. I will die,
And leave him all. Life, living, all is Death’s.
Paris(帕里斯)
Have I thought long to see this morning’s face,
And doth it give me such a sight as this?
Lady Capulet(凯普莱特夫人)
Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!
Most miserable hour that e’er time saw
In lasting labor of his pilgrimage.
But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
And cruel death hath catched it from my sight!
Nurse(奶妈)
O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day!
Most lamentable day, most woeful day
That ever, ever, I did yet behold!
O day, O day, O day, O hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this.
O woeful day, O woeful day!
Paris(帕里斯)
Beguiled, divorcèd, wrongèd, spited, slain!
Most detestable Death, by thee beguiled,
By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown!
O love! O life! Not life, but love in death.
Capulet(凯普莱特)
Despised, distressèd, hated, martyred, killed!
Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now
To murder, murder our solemnity?
O child, O child! My soul, and not my child!
Dead art thou! Alack, my child is dead,
And with my child my joys are buried.
Friar Lawrence(劳伦斯神父)
Peace, ho, for shame! Confusion’s cure lives not
In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
Had part in this fair maid. Now heaven hath all,
And all the better is it for the maid.
Your part in her you could not keep from death,
But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
The most you sought was her promotion,
For ’twas your heaven she should be advanced.
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
Oh, in this love, you love your child so ill
That you run mad, seeing that she is well.
She’s not well married that lives married long,
But she’s best married that dies married young.
Dry up your tears and stick your rosemary
On this fair corse, and, as the custom is,
And in her best array, bear her to church.
For though some nature bids us all lament,
Yet nature’s tears are reason’s merriment.
Capulet(凯普莱特)
All things that we ordained festival
Turn from their office to black funeral.
Our instruments to melancholy bells,
Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast.
Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change,
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
And all things change them to the contrary.
Friar Lawrence(劳伦斯神父)
Sir, go you in, and, madam, go with him;
And go, Sir Paris. Every one prepare
To follow this fair corse unto her grave.
The heavens do lour upon you for some ill.
Move them no more by crossing their high will.
[Stage] Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris, and Friar Lawrence exit.
First Musician(第一个乐师)
Faith, we may put up our pipes and be gone.
Nurse(奶妈)
Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up,
For, well you know, this is a pitiful case.
[Stage] The Nurse exits.
First Musician(第一个乐师)
Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.
[Stage] Peter enters.
Peter(彼特)
Musicians, O musicians, “Heart’s Ease,” “Heart’s Ease.”
O, an you will have me live, play “Heart’s Ease.”
First Musician(第一个乐师)
Why “Heart’s ease?”
Peter(彼特)
O musicians, because my heart itself plays “My Heart is
Full.” O, play me some merry dump to comfort me.
First Musician(第一个乐师)
Not a dump, we. ‘Tis no time to play now.
Peter(彼特)
You will not then?
First Musician(第一个乐师)
No.
Peter(彼特)
I will then give it you soundly.
First Musician(第一个乐师)
What will you give us?
Peter(彼特)
No money, on my faith, but the gleek. I will give you
the minstrel.
First Musician(第一个乐师)
Then I will give you the serving creature.
Peter(彼特)
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(第一个乐师)
An you re us and fa us, you note us.
Second Musician(第二个乐师)
Pray you, put up your dagger and put out your wit.
Peter(彼特)
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(第一个乐师)
Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.
Peter(彼特)
Pretty.—What say you, Hugh Rebeck?
Second Musician(第二个乐师)
I say, “silver sound” because musicians sound for
silver.
Peter(彼特)
Pretty too.—What say you, James Soundpost?
Third Musician(第三个乐师)
Faith, I know not what to say.
Peter(彼特)
Oh, 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.
[Stage] Peter exits.
First Musician(第一个乐师)
What a pestilent knave is this same!
Second Musician(第二个乐师)
Hang him, jack! Come, we’ll in here, tarry for the
mourners, and stay dinner.
[Stage] They exit.