SCENE V

Juliette's room.

Enter ROMEO and JULIET.

JULIETTE.-Wilt thou leave me already? the day is not yet ready to appear: the nightingale, and not the lark, whose voice penetrated your worries ear; he sings all night there on this pomegranate. Believe me, dear love, it was the nightingale.

ROMÉO.-It is the lark that proclaims the morning, not the nightingale. See, my beloved, these traits of a jealous light through clouds gaping eastward: all the torches of the night are consumed; and the tops of mountains covered in mist rises on tiptoe joyful morning. I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

JULIETTE.-This light is not daylight, I know that, me that's a meteor the sun exhales to serve you torch that night, and enlighten you in your road to Mantua. Remains, it is not necessary for you to go.

ROMÉO.-That surprises me here, they put me to death, I'm glad if you like as well. I will say that this graying is not the eye of the morning, but a pale reflection of the front of Cynthia, and that is not the lark whose accents will hit the vault of heaven, so high above our heads. I'm more inclined to stay than will to partir.-Come, Death, and be welcome; Juliet wants ainsi.-What say you, my love? let us talk, this is not the day.

JULIETTE.-This is the day, this is the day: make haste to leave, go away. It is the lark that sings so fake, rolling sounds so painfully discordant, and a bitterness so unpleasant. It is said that the lark can observe in his song graceful separations; this is not true, since it separates us⁶⁰ . Some say the lark changed eyes with disgusting toad Oh! I wish they had also changed voice because that voice we tear the arms of each other, and drive you out of here by the sounds that call the day. Oh! Now, go away; the sky cleared more.