Funny Lines in Act 3 and Scean I of Romeo and Juliet
Romeo and Juliet Translation Human activity 3, Scene 3
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Romeo, come forth. Come along, chiliad fearful man. Affliction is enamoured of thy parts, And thou art wedded to calamity.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Romeo, come here. Come here, you frightened human being. Trouble follows you, and you're married to catastrophe.
ROMEO
Father, what news? What is the Prince'due south doom? What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand That I yet know not?
ROMEO
Father, what's the news? Did the Prince state how I am to be punished? What unknown suffering is coming for me?
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Besides familiar Is my dear son with such sour company. I bring thee tidings of the Prince'due south doom.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
My honey son, you're also familiar with suffering. I do have news for you lot about the Prince's punishment for you.
ROMEO
What less than doomsday is the Prince'southward doom?
ROMEO
Is it anything less than my decease?
FRIAR LAWRENCE
A gentler judgment vanished from his lips: Non torso's death, but body's banishment.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
His judgment was gentler than that. Y'all won't be executed, but will exist banished from Verona.
ROMEO
Ha, banishment! Be merciful, say "decease," For exile hath more terror in his look, Much more than death. Practise not say "banishment."
ROMEO
Banishment! Exist merciful: say "death." Exile is much worse to me than expiry. Don't say "banishment."
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Hence from Verona art thousand banishèd. Be patient, for the world is wide and wide.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
You are banished from Verona. Be patient, the world is big and annihilation can happen.
ROMEO
There is no world without Verona walls But purgatory, torture, hell itself. Hence "banishèd" is banished from the globe, And world's exile is expiry. Then "banishèd," Is death mistermed. Calling death "adjournment," Yard cutt'st my head off with a aureate ax And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.
ROMEO
The world outside Verona's walls is similar purgatory, torture, hell itself. Being banished from Verona is the same as being banished from the earth, and being banished from the world is the same every bit death. Banishment is only a different proper name for decease. So telling me that I'g banished is like cut off my head with a golden ax and smiling while murdering me.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
O mortiferous sin! O rude unthankfulness! Thy mistake our law calls death, but the kind Prince, Taking thy function, hath rushed aside the law, And turned that black discussion "decease" to "banishment." This is honey mercy, and thou seest information technology non.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Oh, deadly sin! Oh, you lot rude, unthankful kid! Your crime is punishable by death, but the Prince in his kindness defended y'all, and bypassed the law by replacing death with banishment. This is mercy, simply you can't see it.
ROMEO
'Tis torture and non mercy. Heaven is here, Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog And piddling mouse, every unworthy thing, Live here in heaven and may look on her, Just Romeo may not. More than validity, More honorable country, more courtship lives In feces flies than Romeo. They may seize On the white wonder of dear Juliet's manus And steal immortal approving from her lips, Who even in pure and vestal modesty, Still blush, every bit thinking their own kisses sin. But Romeo may not. He is banishèd. Flies may do this, but I from this must wing. They are gratis men, just I am banishèd. And sayst grand yet that exile is not death? Hadst thou no poison mixed, no sharp-ground knife, No sudden mean of expiry, though ne'er so hateful, Merely "banishèd" to kill me?—"Banishèd"! O Friar, the damnèd employ that word in hell. Howling attends it. How hast thou the heart, Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, A sin-absolver, and my friend professed, To mangle me with that word "banishèd"?
ROMEO
It's torture, not mercy. Sky is in Verona because this is where Juliet lives. Every cat and dog and little mouse, every unworthy beast, that lives in Verona lives in heaven because it can see her. But I won't be able to. Feces-eating flies volition have more vitality, a more blessed beingness, and more romance than I will. They tin can touch Juliet's white hand and can steal kisses from her sweet lips, which—though she is a pure virgin—blush when they touch each other because they retrieve it's a sin. But Romeo tin't touch her mitt or kiss her. Flies can kiss her, but I must fly from the city. Flies are free, but I've been banished. Do y'all still argue that exile isn't decease? You didn't accept some poisonous substance, a sharpened pocketknife, or another weapon that you lot could accept used to kill me speedily, cipher so disgraceful, other than banishment? Oh Friar, damned souls use the word "banishment" to depict hell. They howl the word. How, as a priest, confessor, and my friend, can you lot take the heart to say to me the word "banished?"
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Thou addicted mad man, hear me a little speak.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
You silly madman, listen to me for a second.
ROMEO
Oh, 1000 wilt speak again of banishment.
ROMEO
Now you lot're just going to talk once again about banishment.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
I'll give thee armor to keep off that discussion— Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy— To comfort thee though thou fine art banishèd.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
I'll protect you from that word by using the cure for arduousness—philosophy—which will condolement you lot even though you've been banished.
ROMEO
Yet "banishèd"? Hang upward philosophy! Unless philosophy tin can make a Juliet, Displant a town, opposite a prince'south doom, It helps non, it prevails not. Talk no more.
ROMEO
In the face up of adjournment, let philosophy be hanged! Unless philosophy tin create a Juliet, move an unabridged boondocks to a new identify, or reverse a prince'south punishment, it can't help me. Terminate talking.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Oh, so I encounter that madmen take no ears.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Ah, I've discovered that madmen are deaf.
ROMEO
How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?
ROMEO
Why should madmen hear, when wise men tin't come across?
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Let me discuss your situation with y'all.
ROMEO
K canst not speak of that thou dost not feel. Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, An 60 minutes but married, Tybalt murderèd, Doting like me, and like me banishèd, Then mightst thou speak, and then mightst thou tear thy hair And autumn upon the ground, as I practise now, Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
ROMEO
Yous can't talk nearly something yous don't feel. If you were every bit young as I am, in dearest with Juliet, married to her for but an 60 minutes, and had murdered Tybalt ...If you loved her equally I do and were banished as I am, then yous could talk about it. Though instead you might tear out your pilus and autumn to the ground the way I do right at present [He falls on the ground] in club to measure out out your grave.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Arise. Ane knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Get up. Someone's knocking. Hibernate, good Romeo.
Knocking sounds from offstage.
ROMEO
Non I, unless the breath of heartsick groans, Mistlike, infold me from the search of eyes.
ROMEO
The merely way I'll hibernate is if my heartsick groans produce a mist that covers me from people's searching optics.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Hark, how they knock!—Who's at that place?—Romeo, arise. Thou wilt be taken.—Stay awhile.—Stand up.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
They knock again!—Who'south there?—Romeo, stand upward. They'll grab you.— Agree on a moment.—Romeo, stand up.
Run to my study.—By and by!—God'south will, What simpleness is this!—I come, I come up.
Hide in my study.—Just a minute—For the dearest of God, don't be so stupid! I'chiliad coming. I'm coming.
Who knocks and then hard? Whence come you? What's your will?
Who is information technology that is knocking so difficult? Where do you come from? What practise you want?
NURSE
[From inside] Let me come in, and yous shall know my errand. I come up from Lady Juliet.
NURSE
[From offstage] Permit me in, and I'll tell you why I'm here. I come up from Lady Juliet.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
[Opens the door] Welcome so.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
[Opening the door] Welcome, and then.
NURSE
O holy Friar, O, tell me, holy Friar, Where is my lady'south lord? Where'due south Romeo?
NURSE
Oh, holy Friar. Oh, tell me, holy Friar, where is my lady's married man? Where's Romeo?
FRIAR LAWRENCE
At that place on the ground, with his own tears made drunkard.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
There, on the ground, drunk on his own tears.
NURSE
Oh, he is even in my mistress' case, Only in her example. O woeful sympathy, Piteous predicament! Yet lies she, Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. Stand up up, stand up. Stand, an you be a man. For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand. Why should you autumn into and so deep an O?
NURSE
He's interim like Juliet, exactly like her. Oh awful sympathy! What a dreadful predicament! She's lying on the ground merely similar him, blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. Stand up. Stand. Stand if you're a homo. For Juliet's sake, for her sake, ascent and stand. Why practise you moan so terribly?
NURSE
Ah sir, ah sir. Death's the end of all.
NURSE
Well, sir, well. Death comes for everybody.
ROMEO
Spakest yard of Juliet? How is it with her? Doth she not recall me an old murderer, Now I have stained the childhood of our joy With blood removed but footling from her own? Where is she? And how doth she? And what says My curtained lady to our canceled love?
ROMEO
What of Juliet? How is she? Does she retrieve that I'g a cold-blooded murderer because I corrupted our newfound love by killing her relative? Where is she? How is she? What does my wife say nigh our love?
NURSE
Oh, she says nix, sir, but weeps and weeps, And at present falls on her bed, so starts up, And "Tybalt" calls, and and so on Romeo cries, And and so down falls again.
NURSE
Oh, she says cypher, sir. Instead she weeps and weeps. She falls on her bed, and then starts to get up, so calls out Tybalt'south name then your name, and then she falls back downward on the bed.
ROMEO
Equally if that name, Shot from the deadly level of a gun, Did murder her, as that proper name'southward cursed manus Murdered her kinsman. O, tell me, Friar, tell me, In what vile office of this anatomy Doth my proper noun guild? Tell me, that I may sack The hateful mansion. [He draws his dagger]
ROMEO
She calls out my name equally if information technology were a bullet that had been shot from a gun and murdered her, just as I murdered her cousin. Tell me, Friar, in what vile role of my body does my name residual? Tell me, and then I tin can cut information technology out of myself. [He draws his dagger]
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Agree thy desperate hand. Fine art chiliad a man? Thy course cries out m art. Thy tears are womanish. Thy wild acts denote The unreasonable fury of a beast. Unseemly woman in a seeming human, And ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! Thou hast amazed me. By my holy social club, I thought thy disposition better tempered. Hast thou slain Tybalt? Wilt one thousand slay thyself, And slay thy lady that in thy life lives By doing damnèd hate upon thyself? Why rails'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? Since birth and sky and earth, all 3 do meet In thee at once, which thou at once wouldst lose? Fie, fie, chiliad shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit, Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all And usest none in that truthful use indeed Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit. Thy noble shape is just a form of wax, Digressing from the valor of a man; Thy dear honey sworn only hollow perjury, Killing that dearest which thousand hast vowed to cherish; Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, Misshapen in the conduct of them both, Similar powder in a skill-less soldier'due south flask, Is prepare afire by thine own ignorance; And thou dismembered with thine own defence. What, rouse thee, human! Thy Juliet is live, For whose dear sake thou wast merely lately expressionless— There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee, But one thousand slew'st Tybalt—there fine art thou happy. The law that threatened death becomes thy friend And turns it to exile—at that place art chiliad happy. A pack of blessings calorie-free upon thy back, Happiness courts thee in her all-time array, But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy honey. Have heed, take heed, for such die miserable. Go, become thee to thy dearest, equally was decreed. Ascend her chamber, hence, and comfort her. But wait k stay not till the scout be set, For then thou canst not laissez passer to Mantua, Where thou shalt alive, till nosotros tin observe a fourth dimension To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, Beg pardon of the Prince, and call thee back With xx hundred thousand times more joy Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.— Go before, Nurse. Commend me to thy lady, And bid her hasten all the house to bed, Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto. Romeo is coming.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Stop! Don't exercise anything out of desperation. Are y'all a man? You look like a human. Simply your tears are womanly . Your wildness is like the irrational fury of a brute. You lot're like an inappropriate woman hiding within a homo, or, even worse, a shameful fauna hiding within a half-man, half-woman! You lot amaze me. Past my holy order, I swear I thought you were stronger and more stable than this. Have y'all killed Tybalt? Will you lot kill yourself, and in performing such a sin also kill your married woman, who shares your life? Why are you ranting nigh your birth, the heavens, and the earth? Yous are fabricated of the joining of all three, and now want nothing to do with them? You lot bring shame to your torso, your love, and your mind. You are blessed with all three, simply like a moneylender yous do non use your body, love, or mind for their true purpose. Without laurels or nobility, your torso is but a wax figure. The beloved that you lot swore is but a hollow lie, since you now threaten to impale the love that you vowed to cherish. Your heed, that key to both your torso and your beloved, has failed to handle both of them. You're like an unskilled soldier who accidentally explodes his own gunpowder because he does non know how to utilise information technology: you lot cease up killing yourself with the very thing meant to protect you. Now get a hold of yourself, man! Your Juliet is live (for whose sake you were simply threatening to kill yourself). That is something to exist happy about. Tybalt tried to impale y'all, but you killed Tybalt. That is something to be happy about. The law that promised death for y'all was mercifully changed into exile—another thing to be happy near. You have been blessed multiple times, and are surrounded by brightest happiness. Simply like a misbehaved and sullen girl, you're pouting most your bad luck and thwarted dear. Now listen to me: those who act the way you are acting now die miserable. Go, be with your dear, as we planned. Climb up to her bedroom and comfort her. But make certain to go out before the watchmen take their positions, considering they volition stop you lot before you can escape to Mantua. You lot'll live in Mantua until we can announce your wedlock publicly, make peace between your families, and beg the Prince to pardon you. And so we'll welcome you lot back with twenty grand times more joy than yous'll feel when leaving. Nurse, get to Juliet before Romeo follows. Give my regards to your lady, and tell her to bustle everybody in her house to bed. Information technology's likely that their sorrow volition make them want to go to sleep, anyhow. Romeo is coming.
NURSE
O Lord, I could accept stayed here all the night To hear practiced counsel. Oh, what learning is! My lord, I'll tell my lady yous will come.
NURSE
Oh Lord, I could stay hither all night listening to good advice similar yours. Didactics is amazing!
[To ROMEO] My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come up.
ROMEO
Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.
ROMEO
Practise that, and tell my love to be ready to scold me.
NURSE
Hither, sir, a band she bid me give yous, sir. [Gives ROMEO JULIET's ring] Hie you, make haste, for it grows very belatedly.
NURSE
Here, sir, have this ring she asked me to give you lot. [She gives ROMEO JULIET'southward ring] Hurry, it'southward getting late.
ROMEO
How well my comfort is revived past this!
ROMEO
This ring lifts my spirits!
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Go hence. Adept night. And here stands all your state: Either be gone before the watch exist set, Or by the suspension of day disguised from hence. Sojourn in Mantua. I'll find out your man, And he shall signify from time to time Every skillful hap to you lot that chances here. Requite me thy hand. 'Tis late. Farewell, adept night.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
Now go. Skillful night. And remember that everything depends on you being out of Verona before the night watch takes its position, or that yous disguise yourself and go out after daybreak. Stay a while in Mantua. I'll find your servant, and every once in a while I'll send you lot news through him well-nigh every adept thing that occurs for you lot hither. Requite me your hand. It'south late. Good day. Skillful dark.
ROMEO
But that a joy past joy calls out on me, It were a grief so brief to part with thee. Farewell.
ROMEO
Even if I didn't take the greatest joy I'll ever experience calling out to me, information technology would still be distressing to leave you in such a hurry. Goodbye.
Source: https://www.litcharts.com/shakescleare/shakespeare-translations/romeo-and-juliet/act-3-scene-3
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