Internet Shakespeare Editions

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  • Title: Romeo and Juliet (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editor: Roger Apfelbaum
  • ISBN: 1-55058-299-2

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Roger Apfelbaum
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Romeo and Juliet (Folio 1, 1623)

    Enter Mercutio, Benuolio, and men.
    Ben. I pray thee good Mercutio lets retire,
    The day is hot, the Capulets abroad:
    And if we meet, we shal not scape a brawle, for now these
    1435hot dayes, is the mad blood stirring.
    Mer. Thou art like one of these fellowes, that when he
    enters the confines of a Tauerne, claps me his Sword vpon
    the Table, and sayes, God send me no need of thee: and by
    the operation of the second cup, drawes him on the Draw-
    1440er, when indeed there is no need.
    Ben. Am I like such a Fellow?
    Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Iacke in thy mood,
    as any in Italie: and assoone moued to be moodie, and as-
    soone moodie to be mou'd.
    1445Ben. And what too?
    Mer. Nay, and there were two such, we should haue
    none shortly, for one would kill the other: thou, why thou
    wilt quarrell with a man that hath a haire more, or a haire
    lesse in his beard, then thou hast: thou wilt quarrell with a
    1450man for cracking Nuts, hauing no other reason, but be-
    cause thou hast hasell eyes: what eye, but such an eye,
    would spie out such a quarrell? thy head is as full of quar-
    rels, as an egge is full of meat, and yet thy head hath bin
    beaten as addle as an egge for quarreling: thou hast quar-
    1455rel'd with a man for coffing in the street, because he hath
    wakened thy Dog that hath laine asleepe in the Sun. Did'st
    thou not fall out with a Tailor for wearing his new Doub-
    let before Easter? with another, for tying his new shooes
    with old Riband, and yet thou wilt Tutor me from quar-
    Ben. And I were so apt to quarell as thou art, any man
    should buy the Fee-simple of my life, for an houre and a
    Mer. The Fee-simple? O simple.
    Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others.
    Ben. By my head here comes the Capulets.
    Mer. By my heele I care not.
    Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speake to them.
    Gentlemen, Good den, a word with one of you.
    1470Mer. And but one word with one of vs? couple it with
    something, make it a word and a blow.
    Tib. You shall find me apt inough to that sir, and you
    will giue me occasion.
    Mercu. Could you not take some occasion without
    Tib. Mercutio thou consort'st with Romeo.
    Mer. Consort? what dost thou make vs Minstrels? &
    thou make Minstrels of vs, looke to heare nothing but dis-
    cords: heere's my fiddlesticke, heere's that shall make you
    1480daunce. Come consort.
    Ben. We talke here in the publike haunt of men:
    Either withdraw vnto some priuate place,
    Or reason coldly of your greeuances:
    Or else depart, here all eies gaze on vs.
    1485Mer. Mens eyes were made to looke, and let them gaze.
    I will not budge for no mans pleasure I.
    Enter Romeo.
    Tib. Well peace be with you sir, here comes my man.
    Mer. But Ile be hang'd sir if he weare your Liuery.
    1490Marry go before to field, heele be your follower,
    Your worship in that sense, may call him man.
    Tib. Romeo, the loue I beare thee, can affoord
    No better terme then this: Thou art a Villaine.
    Rom. Tibalt, the reason that I haue to loue thee,
    1495Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
    To such a greeting: Villaine am I none;
    Therefore farewell, I see thou know'st me not.
    Tib. Boy, this shall not excuse the iniuries
    That thou hast done me, therefore turne and draw.
    1500Rom. I do protest I neuer iniur'd thee,
    But lou'd thee better then thou can'st deuise:
    Till thou shalt know the reason of my loue,
    And so good Capulet, which name I tender
    As dearely as my owne, be satisfied.
    1505Mer. O calme, dishonourable, vile submission:
    Alla stucatho carries it away.
    Tybalt, you Rat-catcher, will you walke?
    Tib. What woulds thou haue with me?
    Mer. Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine
    1510liues, that I meane to make bold withall, and as you shall
    vse me hereafter dry beate the rest of the eight. Will you
    pluck your Sword out of his Pilcher by the eares? Make
    hast, least mine be about your eares ere it be out.
    Tib. I am for you.
    1515Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy Rapier vp.
    Mer. Come sir, your Passado.
    Rom. Draw Benuolio, beat downe their weapons:
    Gentlemen, for shame forbeare this outrage,
    Tibalt, Mercutio, the Prince expresly hath
    1520Forbidden bandying in Verona streetes.
    Hold Tybalt, good Mercutio.
    Exit Tybalt.
    Mer. I am hurt.
    A plague a both the Houses, I am sped:
    1525Is he gone and hath nothing?
    Ben. What art thou hurt?
    Mer. I, I, a scratch, a scratch, marry 'tis inough,
    Where is my Page? go Villaine fetch a Surgeon.
    Rom. Courage man, the hurt cannot be much.
    1530Mer. No: 'tis not so deepe as a well, nor so wide as a
    Church doore, but 'tis inough, 'twill serue: aske for me to
    morrow, and you shall find me a graue man. I am pepper'd
    I warrant, for this world: a plague a both your houses.
    What, a Dog, a Rat, a Mouse, a Cat to scratch a man to
    1535death: a Braggart, a Rogue, a Villaine, that fights by the
    booke of Arithmeticke, why the deu'le came you be-
    tweene vs? I was hurt vnder your arme.
    Rom. I thought all for the best.
    Mer. Helpe me into some house Benuolio,
    1540Or I shall faint: a plague a both your houses.
    They haue made wormes meat of me,
    I haue it, and soundly to your Houses.
    Rom. This Gentleman the Princes neere Alie,
    My very Friend hath got his mortall hurt
    1545In my behalfe, my reputation stain'd
    With Tibalts slaunder, Tybalt that an houre
    Hath beene my Cozin: O Sweet Iuliet,
    Thy Beauty hath made me Effeminate,
    And in my temper softned Valours steele.
    Enter Benuolio.
    Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, braue Mercutio's is dead,
    That Gallant spirit hath aspir'd the Cloudes,
    Which too vntimely here did scorne the earth.
    Rom. This daies blacke Fate, on mo daies doth depend,
    1555This but begins, the wo others must end.
    Enter Tybalt.
    Ben. Here comes the Furious Tybalt backe againe.
    Rom. He gon in triumph, and Mercutio slaine?
    Away to heauen respectiue Lenitie,
    1560And fire and Fury, be my conduct now.
    Now Tybalt take the Villaine backe againe
    That late thou gau'st me, for Mercutios soule
    Is but a little way aboue our heads,
    Staying for thine to keepe him companie:
    1565Either thou or I, or both, must goe with him.
    Tib. Thou wretched Boy that didst consort him here,
    Shalt with him hence.
    Rom. This shall determine that.
    They fight. Tybalt falles.
    1570Ben. Romeo, away be gone:
    The Citizens are vp, and Tybalt slaine,
    Stand not amaz'd, the Prince will Doome thee death
    If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away.
    Rom. O! I am Fortunes foole.
    1575Ben. Why dost thou stay?
    Exit Romeo.
    Enter Citizens.
    Citi. Which way ran he that kild Mercutio?
    Tibalt that Murtherer, which way ran he?
    1580Ben. There lies that Tybalt.
    Citi. Vp sir go with me:
    I charge thee in the Princes names obey.
    Enter Prince, old Montague, Capulet, their
    Wiues and all.
    1585Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this Fray?
    Ben. O Noble Prince, I can discouer all
    The vnluckie Mannage of this fatall brall:
    There lies the man slaine by young Romeo,
    That slew thy kinsman braue Mercutio.
    1590Cap. Wi. Tybalt, my Cozin? O my Brothers Child,
    O Prince, O Cozin, Husband, O the blood is spild
    Of my deare kinsman. Prince as thou art true,
    For bloud of ours, shed bloud of Mountague.
    O Cozin, Cozin.
    1595Prin. Benuolio, who began this Fray?
    Ben. Tybalt here slaine, whom Romeo's hand did slay,
    Romeo that spoke him faire, bid him bethinke
    How nice the Quarrell was, and vrg'd withall
    Your high displeasure: all this vttered,
    1600With gentle breath, calme looke, knees humbly bow'd
    Could not take truce with the vnruly spleene
    Of Tybalts deafe to peace, but that he Tilts
    With Peircing steele at bold Mercutio's breast,
    Who all as hot, turnes deadly point to point,
    1605And with a Martiall scorne, with one hand beates
    Cold death aside, and with the other sends
    It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity
    Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,
    Hold Friends, Friends part, and swifter then his tongue,
    1610His aged arme, beats downe their fatall points,
    And twixt them rushes, vnderneath whose arme,
    An enuious thrust from Tybalt, hit the life
    Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled.
    But by and by comes backe to Romeo,
    1615Who had but newly entertained Reuenge,
    And too't they goe like lightning, for ere I
    Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slaine:
    And as he fell, did Romeo turne and flie:
    This is the truth, or let Benuolio die.
    1620Cap. Wi. He is a kinsman to the Mountague,
    Affection makes him false, he speakes not true:
    Some twenty of them fought in this blacke strife,
    And all those twenty could but kill one life.
    I beg for Iustice, which thou Prince must giue:
    1625Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not liue.
    Prin. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio,
    Who now the price of his deare blood doth owe.
    Cap. Not Romeo Prince, he was Mercutios Friend,
    His fault concludes, but what the law should end,
    1630The life of Tybalt.
    Prin. And for that offence,
    Immediately we doe exile him hence:
    I haue an interest in your hearts proceeding:
    My bloud for your rude brawles doth lie a bleeding.
    1635But Ile Amerce you with so strong a fine,
    That you shall all repent the losse of mine.
    It will be deafe to pleading and excuses,
    Nor teares, nor prayers shall purchase our abuses.
    Therefore vse none, let Romeo hence in hast,
    1640Else when he is found, that houre is his last.
    Beare hence this body, and attend our will:
    Mercy not Murders, pardoning those that kill.