Act 1, Scene 2

Original Text

SCENE II. The same. The garden of Julia's house. Enter Julia and Lucetta.

Modern English

Scene 2. The same city. The garden of Julia's house. Julia and Lucetta enter.

Original Text

JULIA. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love? LUCETTA. Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheedfully.

Modern English

JULIA. Tell me, Lucetta — now that we're alone — would you actually advise me to fall in love? LUCETTA. Yes, my lady, as long as you don't stumble in blindly.

Original Text

JULIA. Of all the fair resort of gentlemen That every day with parle encounter me, In thy opinion which is worthiest love? LUCETTA. Please you, repeat their names, I'll show my mind According to my shallow simple skill.

Modern English

JULIA. Of all the eligible gentlemen who come to pay their respects to me every day, which one do you think is most worth loving? LUCETTA. If you'll run through their names, I'll give you my honest opinion — for whatever that's worth, coming from someone as ordinary as me.

Original Text

JULIA. What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour? LUCETTA. As of a knight well-spoken, neat, and fine; But, were I you, he never should be mine.

Modern English

JULIA. What do you think of the handsome Sir Eglamour? LUCETTA. A fine knight — well-spoken, polished, and charming. But if I were you, I'd never give him my heart.

Original Text

JULIA. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio? LUCETTA. Well of his wealth; but of himself, so-so.

Modern English

JULIA. What do you think of the wealthy Mercatio? LUCETTA. His money is impressive enough. The man himself — not so much.

Original Text

JULIA. What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus? LUCETTA. Lord, Lord, to see what folly reigns in us!

Modern English

JULIA. What do you think of the sweet Proteus? LUCETTA. Lord, lord — isn't it something, the foolishness love plants in us!

Original Text

JULIA. How now? What means this passion at his name? LUCETTA. Pardon, dear madam, 'tis a passing shame That I, unworthy body as I am, Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.

Modern English

JULIA. What? Why do you react like that at his name? LUCETTA. Forgive me, dear madam — it's rather embarrassing that someone as lowly as I am should have the nerve to pass judgment on fine gentlemen.

Original Text

JULIA. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest? LUCETTA. Then thus: of many good I think him best.

Modern English

JULIA. Why won't you speak about Proteus the same way you spoke about the others? LUCETTA. All right, then. Among many good men, I think him the best.

Original Text

JULIA. Your reason? LUCETTA. I have no other but a woman's reason: I think him so because I think him so. JULIA. And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him? LUCETTA. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.

Modern English

JULIA. Your reason? LUCETTA. I have no better reason than a woman's reason: I think so because I think so. JULIA. And would you have me throw my love at him? LUCETTA. Yes — if you believed your love wouldn't be wasted.

Original Text

JULIA. Why, he of all the rest hath never moved me. LUCETTA. Yet he of all the rest I think best loves ye. JULIA. His little speaking shows his love but small. LUCETTA. Fire that's closest kept burns most of all. JULIA. They do not love that do not show their love. LUCETTA. O, they love least that let men know their love.

Modern English

JULIA. But he's never once made the slightest move toward me. LUCETTA. And yet, of all of them, I believe he loves you most. JULIA. A man who speaks so little can hardly love very much. LUCETTA. The fire that's most carefully banked burns the hottest. JULIA. People who don't show their love don't have any. LUCETTA. Oh, the ones who broadcast their love love the least of all.

Original Text

JULIA. I would I knew his mind. LUCETTA. Peruse this paper, madam. [_Gives her a letter._] JULIA. _To Julia_—Say, from whom? LUCETTA. That the contents will show.

Modern English

JULIA. I wish I knew what was in his heart. LUCETTA. Read this, my lady. [_Gives her a letter._] JULIA. "To Julia" — but tell me, who sent it? LUCETTA. The contents will tell you that.

Original Text

JULIA. Say, say, who gave it thee? LUCETTA. Sir Valentine's page, and sent, I think, from Proteus. He would have given it you, but I, being in the way, Did in your name receive it. Pardon the fault, I pray.

Modern English

JULIA. Just tell me — who gave it to you? LUCETTA. Valentine's page, and sent, I believe, from Proteus. He meant to give it to you directly, but I was there, so I took it in your name. I hope you'll forgive me.

Original Text

JULIA. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker! Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines? To whisper and conspire against my youth? Now trust me, 'tis an office of great worth, And you an officer fit for the place. There, take the paper; see it be returned, Or else return no more into my sight. LUCETTA. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.

Modern English

JULIA. Well! By my honor — what a fine go-between you make! How dare you harbor these scandalous letters? Whispering and scheming behind my back? Let me tell you, that's a very important office — and you're clearly perfectly suited for it. Here — take your letter back, and see it returned to whoever sent it. Otherwise, don't come back in front of me. LUCETTA. Going to bat for love deserves better than hatred.

Original Text

JULIA. Will ye be gone? LUCETTA. That you may ruminate. [_Exit._]

Modern English

JULIA. Will you please just go? LUCETTA. So you can think it over. [_Exit._]

Original Text

JULIA. And yet I would I had o'erlooked the letter. It were a shame to call her back again And pray her to a fault for which I chid her. What fool is she, that knows I am a maid And would not force the letter to my view, Since maids in modesty say "No" to that Which they would have the profferer construe "Ay". Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love That like a testy babe will scratch the nurse And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod! How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence, When willingly I would have had her here! How angerly I taught my brow to frown, When inward joy enforced my heart to smile! My penance is to call Lucetta back And ask remission for my folly past. What ho! Lucetta!

Modern English

JULIA. And yet — I wish I'd read that letter. It would be shameful to call her back now and beg her to repeat the very offense I just scolded her for. What kind of fool is she? She knows I'm a proper young lady — she should have forced the letter into my hands, because everyone knows that when girls say "no" out of modesty, what they actually mean the sender to hear is "yes." Oh, this ridiculous love — what a wayward thing it is, like a cranky child who scratches the nurse and then, moments later, crawls back and kisses her hand. How sharply I drove Lucetta away when what I really wanted was to keep her here! How fiercely I trained my face into a frown when my heart inside was forcing me to smile! My penance now is to call Lucetta back and ask her to forgive my foolishness. Lucetta! Lucetta, come here!

Original Text

Enter Lucetta. LUCETTA. What would your ladyship? JULIA. Is 't near dinner time? LUCETTA. I would it were, That you might kill your stomach on your meat And not upon your maid. [_Drops and picks up the letter._]

Modern English

Lucetta enters. LUCETTA. What does your ladyship want? JULIA. Is it nearly dinnertime? LUCETTA. I wish it were — then you could take out your appetite on your food instead of on your maid. [_Drops and picks up the letter._]

Original Text

JULIA. What is't that you took up so gingerly? LUCETTA. Nothing. JULIA. Why didst thou stoop, then? LUCETTA. To take a paper up that I let fall. JULIA. And is that paper nothing? LUCETTA. Nothing concerning me. JULIA. Then let it lie for those that it concerns. LUCETTA. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns, Unless it have a false interpreter.

Modern English

JULIA. What was that you picked up so carefully just now? LUCETTA. Nothing. JULIA. Then why did you bend down for it? LUCETTA. To pick up a paper I dropped. JULIA. And that paper is nothing? LUCETTA. Nothing that concerns me. JULIA. Then leave it there for whoever it does concern. LUCETTA. My lady, it won't stay where it concerns that person unless there's someone to read it the wrong way.

Original Text

JULIA. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme. LUCETTA. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune. Give me a note. Your ladyship can set— JULIA. As little by such toys as may be possible. Best sing it to the tune of "Light o' Love". LUCETTA. It is too heavy for so light a tune. JULIA. Heavy? Belike it hath some burden then? LUCETTA. Ay, and melodious were it, would you sing it. JULIA. And why not you? LUCETTA. I cannot reach so high.

Modern English

JULIA. Some admirer of yours has written you a love poem. LUCETTA. So I could set it to music, my lady, and sing it. Give me a key — your ladyship is skilled enough to— JULIA. To care as little as possible about such trifles. You'd best sing it to the tune of "Light o' Love." LUCETTA. It's too heavy a matter for so light a tune. JULIA. Heavy? Then I suppose it carries quite a burden? LUCETTA. Yes — and it would sound beautiful, if only you'd sing it. JULIA. Why don't you sing it? LUCETTA. I can't reach those high notes.

Original Text

JULIA. Let's see your song. [_Taking the letter_.] How now, minion! LUCETTA. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out. And yet methinks I do not like this tune. JULIA. You do not? LUCETTA. No, madam, it is too sharp. JULIA. You, minion, are too saucy. LUCETTA. Nay, now you are too flat And mar the concord with too harsh a descant. There wanteth but a mean to fill your song. JULIA. The mean is drowned with your unruly bass. LUCETTA. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.

Modern English

JULIA. Let me see this song of yours. [_Taking the letter._] You little minx! LUCETTA. Hold your tune now — if you mean to sing it through. Though I'm not sure I care for this melody either. JULIA. You don't? LUCETTA. No, my lady — it's too sharp. JULIA. And you, you saucy thing, are too bold. LUCETTA. Now you've gone flat, and you're ruining the harmony with that harsh descant. What's missing is the middle voice to fill the song out. JULIA. The middle voice is drowned out by your reckless bass. LUCETTA. To be fair — I was playing the bass line for Proteus.

Original Text

JULIA. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me. Here is a coil with protestation! [_Tears the letter_.] Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie. You would be fingering them to anger me. LUCETTA. She makes it strange, but she would be best pleased To be so angered with another letter. [_Exit._]

Modern English

JULIA. This nonsense will not bother me any further. What a lot of fuss over a love letter! [_Tears the letter._] Go — get out of here, and let those scraps lie. You'd only be picking at them to provoke me. LUCETTA. [_Aside_] She acts as though she doesn't care. But she'd be perfectly happy to be provoked by another letter just like it. [_Exit._]

Original Text

JULIA. Nay, would I were so angered with the same! O hateful hands, to tear such loving words! Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey And kill the bees that yield it with your stings! I'll kiss each several paper for amends. Look, here is writ _kind Julia_. Unkind Julia! As in revenge of thy ingratitude, I throw thy name against the bruising stones, Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain. And here is writ _love-wounded Proteus_. Poor wounded name, my bosom as a bed Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly healed; And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss. But twice or thrice was _Proteus_ written down. Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away Till I have found each letter in the letter Except mine own name. That some whirlwind bear Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock, And throw it thence into the raging sea. Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ: _Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus, To the sweet Julia._ That I'll tear away; And yet I will not, sith so prettily He couples it to his complaining names. Thus will I fold them one upon another. Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.

Modern English

JULIA. Oh — I wish I were still being provoked by that same one! My hateful hands — to tear apart such loving words! Vicious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey and then sting to death the very bees who made it! I'll kiss every last scrap of paper to make amends. Look — here it says "kind Julia." Unkind Julia! As punishment for your own ingratitude, I'll throw your name down against these unforgiving stones, trampling it like the disdain you showed. And here it says "love-wounded Proteus." Poor wounded name — my heart will be your bed, and lodge you there until your wound has fully healed. Here — I'll tend it with this kiss. But his name "Proteus" was written two or three times over. Stay calm, wind — don't blow a single word away until I've found every letter of his name among these pieces, all except my own name. Let some whirlwind carry that to a jagged, terrifying cliff and fling it out into the roaring sea. Look — here in one line his name appears twice: "Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus, to the sweet Julia." I'll tear that bit away. And yet — I won't. He's joined it so tenderly to the names of his own longing. I'll fold these pieces together, one on top of another. Now — kiss, embrace, struggle all you like.

Original Text

Enter Lucetta. LUCETTA. Madam, dinner is ready, and your father stays. JULIA. Well, let us go. LUCETTA. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here? JULIA. If you respect them, best to take them up. LUCETTA. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down. Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold. [_Picks up pieces of the letter._] JULIA. I see you have a month's mind to them. LUCETTA. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see; I see things too, although you judge I wink. JULIA. Come, come, will't please you go? [_Exeunt._]

Modern English

Lucetta enters. LUCETTA. My lady, dinner is served, and your father is waiting. JULIA. Right. Let's go then. LUCETTA. Are we just going to leave these scraps lying here like little tattletales? JULIA. If you care about them, you'd better pick them up. LUCETTA. Well, last time I picked them up, I got in trouble for it. Still — they can't stay here on the cold ground. [_Picks up pieces of the letter._] JULIA. I see you have quite a fondness for them. LUCETTA. You may say what you like about what you see, my lady. I see things too — even when you think I have my eyes shut. JULIA. Come on, come on — shall we go? [_Exeunt._]

The Two Gentlemen of Verona

Act 1, Scene 2

Act 1, Scene 2