Original Text |
Modern Text |
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Enter ROMEO,
MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six
other MASKERS and TORCHBEARERS
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ROMEO, MERCUTIO, and
BENVOLIO enter dressed as maskers, along with five or
six other
MASKERSMaskers are masked partygoers who perform a dance they’ve invented at a party. MASKERS , carrying a drum and torches. |
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ROMEO What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
Or shall we on without apology?
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ROMEO What will we say is our excuse for being here? Or should we enter
without apologizing?
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BENVOLIO The date is out of such prolixity.
We’ll have no Cupid hoodwinked with a scarf,
5Bearing a Tartar’s painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crowkeeper,
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
After the prompter for our entrance.
But let them measure us by what they will.
10We’ll measure them a measure and be gone.
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BENVOLIO It’s out of fashion to give lengthy explanations like
that. We’re not going to introduce our dance by having
someone dress up as Cupid, blindfolded and carrying a toy bow to
frighten the ladies like a scarecrow. Nor are we going to recite a
memorized speech to introduce ourselves. Let them judge us however
they please. We’ll give them a dance and then hit the
road.
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ROMEO Give me a torch. I am not for this ambling.
Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
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ROMEO Give me a torch. I don’t want to dance. I feel sad, so
let me be the one who carries the light.
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MERCUTIO Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
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MERCUTIO No, noble Romeo, you’ve got to dance.
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ROMEO Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes
15With nimble soles. I have a soul of lead
So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
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ROMEO Not me, believe me. You’re wearing dancing shoes with
nimble soles. My soul is made out of lead, and it’s so
heavy it keeps me stuck on the ground so I can’t
move.
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MERCUTIO You are a lover. Borrow Cupid’s wings
And soar with them above a common bound.
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MERCUTIO You’re a lover. Take Cupid’s wings and fly
higher than the average man.
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ROMEO I am too sore enpiercèd with his shaft
20To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe.
Under love’s heavy burden do I sink.
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ROMEO His arrow has pierced me too deeply, so I can’t fly high
with his cheerful feathers. Because this wound keeps me down, I
can’t leap any higher than my dull sadness. I sink under
the heavy weight of love.
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