Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Roger Apfelbaum
Not Peer Reviewed

Romeo and Juliet (Folio 1, 1623)


Rom. He ieasts at Scarres that neuer felt a wound,
795But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the East, and Iuliet is the Sunne,
Arise faire Sun and kill the enuious Moone,
Who is already sicke and pale with griefe,
That thou her Maid art far more faire then she:
800Be not her Maid since she is enuious,
Her Vestal liuery is but sicke and greene,
And none but fooles do weare it, cast it off:
It is my Lady, O it is my Loue, O that she knew she were,
She speakes, yet she sayes nothing, what of that?
805Her eye discourses, I will answere it:
I am too bold 'tis not to me she speakes:
Two of the fairest starres in all the Heauen,
Hauing some businesse do entreat her eyes,
To twinckle in their Spheres till they returne.
810What if her eyes were there, they in her head,
The brightnesse of her cheeke would shame those starres,
As day-light doth a Lampe, her eye in heauen,
Would through the ayrie Region streame so bright,
That Birds would sing, and thinke it were not night:
815See how she leanes her cheeke vpon her hand.
O that I were a Gloue vpon that hand,
That I might touch that cheeke.
Iul. Ay me.
Rom. She speakes.
Oh speake againe bright Angell, for thou art
As glorious to this night being ore my head,
As is a winged messenger of heauen
Vnto the white vpturned wondring eyes
Of mortalls that fall backe to gaze on him,
825When he bestrides the lazie puffing Cloudes,
And sailes vpon the bosome of the ayre.
Iul. O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
Denie thy Father and refuse thy name:
Or if thou wilt not, be but sworne my Loue,
830And Ile no longer be a Capulet.
Rom. Shall I heare more, or shall I speake at this?
Iu. 'Tis but thy name that is my Enemy:
Thou art thy selfe, though not a Mountague,
What's Mountague? it is nor hand nor foote,
835Nor arme, nor face, O be some other name
Belonging to a man.
What? in a names that which we call a Rose,
By any other word would smell as sweete,
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo cal'd,
840Retaine that deare perfection which he owes,
Without that title Romeo, doffe thy name,
And for thy name which is no part of thee,
Take all my selfe.
Rom. I take thee at thy word:
845Call me but Loue, and Ile be new baptiz'd,
Hence foorth I neuer will be Romeo.
Iuli. What man art thou, that thus bescreen'd in night
So stumblest on my counsell?
Rom. By a name,
850I know not how to tell thee who I am:
My name deare Saint, is hatefull to my selfe,
Because it is an Enemy to thee,
Had I it written, I would teare the word.
Iuli. My eares haue yet not drunke a hundred words
855Of thy tongues vttering, yet I know the sound.
Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?
Rom. Neither faire Maid, if either thee dislike.
Iul. How cam'st thou hither.
Tell me, and wherefore?
860The Orchard walls are high, and hard to climbe,
And the place death, considering who thou art,
If any of my kinsmen find thee here,
Rom. With Loues light wings
Did I ore-perch these Walls,
865For stony limits cannot hold Loue out,
And what Loue can do, that dares Loue attempt:
Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.
Iul. If they do see thee, they will murther thee.
Rom. Alacke there lies more perill in thine eye,
870Then twenty of their Swords, looke thou but sweete,
And I am proofe against their enmity.
Iul. I would not for the world they saw thee here.
Rom. I haue nights cloake to hide me from their eyes
And but thou loue me, let them finde me here,
875My life were better ended by their hate,
Then death proroged wanting of thy Loue.
Iul. By whose direction found'st thou out this place?
Rom. By Loue that first did promp me to enquire,
He lent me counsell, and I lent him eyes,
880I am no Pylot, yet wert thou as far
As that vast-shore-washet with the farthest Sea,
I should aduenture for such Marchandise.
Iul. Thou knowest the maske of night is on my face,
Else would a Maiden blush bepaint my cheeke,
885For that which thou hast heard me speake to night,
Faine would I dwell on forme, faine, faine, denie
What I haue spoke, but farewell Complement,
Doest thou Loue? I know thou wilt say I,
And I will take thy word, yet if thou swear'st,
890Thou maiest proue false: at Louers periuries
They say Ioue laught, oh gentle Romeo,
If thou dost Loue, pronounce it faithfully:
Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly wonne,
Ile frowne and be peruerse, and say thee nay,
895So thou wilt wooe: But else not for the world.
In truth faire Mountague I am too fond:
And therefore thou maiest thinke my behauiour light,
But trust me Gentleman, Ile proue more true,
Then those that haue coying to be strange,
900I should haue beene more strange, I must confesse,
But that thou ouer heard'st ere I was ware
My true Loues passion, therefore pardon me,
And not impute this yeelding to light Loue,
Which the darke night hath so discouered.
905Rom. Lady, by yonder Moone I vow,
That tips with siluer all these Fruite tree tops.
Iul. O sweare not by the Moone, th'inconstant Moone,
That monethly changes in her circled Orbe,
Least that thy Loue proue likewise variable.
910Rom. What shall I sweare by?
Iul. Do not sweare at all:
Or if thou wilt sweare by thy gratious selfe,
Which is the God of my Idolatry,
And Ile beleeue thee.
915Rom. If my hearts deare loue.
Iuli. Well do not sweare, although I ioy in thee:
I haue no ioy of this contract to night,
It is too rash, too vnaduis'd, too sudden,
Too like the lightning which doth cease to be
920Ere, one can say, it lightens, Sweete good night:
This bud of Loue by Summers ripening breath,
May proue a beautious Flower when next we meete:
Goodnight, goodnight, as sweete repose and rest,
Come to thy heart, as that within my brest.
925Rom. O wilt thou leaue me so vnsatisfied?
Iuli. What satisfaction can'st thou haue to night?
Ro. Th'exchange of thy Loues faithfull vow for mine.
Iul. I gaue thee mine before thou did'st request it:
And yet I would it were to giue againe.
930Rom. Would'st thou withdraw it,
For what purpose Loue?
Iul. But to be franke and giue it thee againe,
And yet I wish but for the thing I haue,
My bounty is as boundlesse as the Sea,
935My Loue as deepe, the more I giue to thee
The more I haue, for both are Infinite:
I heare some noyse within deare Loue adue:
Cals within.
Anon good Nurse, sweet Mountague be true:
940Stay but a little, I will come againe.
Rom. O blessed blessed night, I am afear'd
Being in night, all this is but a dreame,
Too flattering sweet to be substantiall.
Iul. Three words deare Romeo,
945And goodnight indeed,
If that thy bent of Loue be Honourable,
Thy purpose marriage, send me word to morrow,
By one that Ile procure to come to thee,
Where and what time thou wilt performe the right,
950And all my Fortunes at thy foote Ile lay,
And follow thee my Lord throughout the world.
Within: Madam.
I come, anon: but if thou meanest not well,
I do beseech theee
Within: Madam.
955(By and by I come)
To cease thy strife, and leaue me to my griefe,
To morrow will I send.
Rom. So thriue my soule.
Iu. A thousand times goodnight.
Exit.
960Rome. A thousand times the worse to want thy light,
Loue goes toward Loue as school-boyes frõ thier books
But Loue frõ Loue, towards schoole with heauie lookes.
Enter Iuliet agaaine.
Iul. Hist Romeo hist: O for a Falkners voice,
965To lure this Tassell gentle backe againe,
Bondage is hoarse, and may not speake aloud,
Else would I teare the Caue where Eccho lies,
And make her ayrie tongue more hoarse, then
With repetition of my Romeo.
970Rom. It is my soule that calls vpon my name.
How siluer sweet, sound Louers tongues by night,
Like softest Musicke to attending eares.
Iul. Romeo.
Rom. My Neece.
975Iul. What a clock to morrow
Shall I send to thee?
Rom. By the houre of nine.
Iul. I will not faile, 'tis twenty yeares till then,
I haue forgot why I did call thee backe.
980Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it.
Iul. I shall forget, to haue thee still stand there,
Remembring how I Loue thy company.
Rom. And Ile still stay, to haue thee still forget,
Forgetting any other home but this.
985Iul. 'Tis almost morning, I would haue thee gone,
And yet no further then a wantons Bird,
That let's it hop a little from his hand,
Like a poore prisoner in his twisted Gyues,
And with a silken thred plucks it backe againe,
990So louing Iealous of his liberty.
Rom. I would I were thy Bird.
Iul. Sweet so would I,
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing:
Good night, good night.
995Rom. Parting is such sweete sorrow,
That I shall say goodnight, till it be morrow.
Iul. Sleepe dwell vpon thine eyes, peace in thy brest.
Rom. Would I were sleepe and peace so sweet to rest,
The gray ey'd morne smiles on the frowning night,
1000Checkring the Easterne Clouds with streakes of light,
And darknesse fleckel'd like a drunkard reeles,
From forth dayes pathway, made by Titans wheeles.
Hence will I to my ghostly Fries close Cell,
His helpe to craue, and my deare hap to tell.
Exit.