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Shakespeare on Stage
Folger Shakespeare Library, Twelfth Night. To Jun. 9, 2013.
American Shakespeare Center, The Duchess of Malfi. To Jun. 15, 2013.
American Shakespeare Center, Twelfth Night. To Jun. 16, 2013.
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Romeo and Juliet (Quarto 1, 1597)

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Roger Apfelbaum
Not Peer Reviewed
Enter Romeo alone.
Ro: Shall I goe forward and my heart is here?
Turne backe dull earth and finde thy Center out.
750
Enter Benuolio Mercutio.
Ben: Romeo, my cosen Romeo.
Mer: Doest thou heare he is wise,
Vpon my life he hath stolne him home to bed.
Ben: He came this way, and leapt this Orchard wall.
755Call good Mercutio.
Mer: Call, nay Ile coniure too.
Romeo, madman, humors, passion, liner, appeare thou in
likenes of a sigh: speek but one rime & I am satisfied, cry
760but ay me. Pronounce but Loue and Doue, speake to
my gossip Venus one faire word, one nickname for her
purblinde sonne and heire young Abraham:Cupid hee
that shot so trim when young King Cophetua loued the
begger wench. Hee heares me not. I coniure thee by
Rosalindes bright eye, high forehead, and scarlet lip, her
prettie foote, straight leg, and quiuering thigh, and the
770demaines that there adiacent lie , that in thy likenesse
thou appeare to vs.
Ben:If he doe heare thee thou wilt anger him.
Mer: Tut this cannot anger him, marrie if one shuld
raise a spirit in his Mistris circle of some strange fashion,
775making it there to stand till she had laid it, and coniurde
it downe, that were some spite. My inuocation is faire
and honest, and in his Mistris name I coniure onely but
to raise vp him.
780Ben: Well he hath hid himselfe amongst those trees,
To be conforted with the humerous night,
Blinde in his loue, and best befits the darke.
Mer: If loue be blind, loue will not hit the marke,
Now will he sit vnder a Medler tree,
785And wish his Mistris were that kinde of fruite,
As maides call Medlers when they laugh alone.
Ah Romeo that she were, ah that she were
An open Et cetera, thou a poprin Peare.
Romeo God night, il'e to my trundle bed:
790This field bed is too cold for mee.
Come lets away, for tis but vaine,
791.1To seeke him here that meanes not to be found.