Romeo and Juliet, Act 2, Scene 6

So smile the heavens upon this holy act That after-hours with sorrow chide us not.

May the heavens smile on this holy act, so that later hours don't scold us with sorrow.

Amen, amen, but come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy That one short minute gives me in her sight. Do thou but close our hands with holy words, Then love-devouring death do what he dare, It is enough I may but call her mine.

Amen, amen. But let whatever sorrow can come, it cannot outweigh the exchange of joy that one short minute in her sight gives me. Just join our hands with holy words, and then let love-devouring death do what it dares: it is enough that I may call her mine.

These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die; like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite. Therefore love moderately: long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

These violent delights have violent ends, and die at the height of their triumph, like fire and gunpowder, which destroy each other as they kiss. The sweetest honey becomes sickening by its own deliciousness, and in the tasting it ruins the appetite. So love in moderation: that's how long-lasting love behaves. Arriving too fast is as late as arriving too slowly.

Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot Will ne’er wear out the everlasting flint. A lover may bestride the gossamers That idles in the wanton summer air And yet not fall; so light is vanity.

Here comes the lady. Oh, a foot so light will never wear out the everlasting stone. A lover could walk astride the cobwebs that drift in the playful summer air and still not fall; that's how light vanity is.

Good even to my ghostly confessor.

Good evening to my spiritual confessor.

Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.

Romeo will thank you, daughter, for us both.

As much to him, else is his thanks too much.

Then the same greeting to him, or else his thanks is too much.

Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy Be heap’d like mine, and that thy skill be more To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath This neighbour air, and let rich music’s tongue Unfold the imagin’d happiness that both Receive in either by this dear encounter.

Ah, Juliet, if your measure of joy is piled as high as mine, and you have more skill to describe it, then sweeten this nearby air with your breath, and let the tongue of rich music declare the happiness that each of us imagines receiving in the other from this precious meeting.

Conceit more rich in matter than in words, Brags of his substance, not of ornament. They are but beggars that can count their worth; But my true love is grown to such excess, I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.

Imagination that is richer in substance than in words boasts of what it truly has, not of decoration. Only beggars can count up what they are worth; but my true love has grown so great that I cannot add up even half of my wealth.

Come, come with me, and we will make short work, For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone Till holy church incorporate two in one.

Come, come with me, and we'll make this quick, for, with your permission, you two won't be left alone together until holy church has joined the two of you into one.