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  • Title: Romeo and Juliet (Romeo: Q2)
  • 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
    Peer Reviewed

    Romeo and Juliet (Romeo: Q2)

    of Romeo and Iuliet.
    2940Death lie thou there by a dead man interd,
    How oft when men are at the point of death,
    Haue they bene merie? which their keepers call
    A lightning before death? Oh how may I
    Call this a lightning? O my Loue, my wife,
    2945Death that hath suckt the honey of thy breath,
    Hath had no power yet vpon thy bewtie:
    Thou art not conquerd, bewties ensigne yet
    Is crymson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
    And deaths pale flag is not aduanced there.
    2950Tybalt lyest thou there in thy bloudie sheet?
    O what more fauour can I do to thee,
    Then with that hand that cut thy youth in twaine,
    To sunder his that was thine enemie?
    Forgiue me Couzen. Ah deare Iuliet
    2955Why art thou yet so faire? I will beleeue,
    Shall I beleeue that vnsubstantiall death is amorous,
    And that the leane abhorred monster keepes
    Thee here in darke to be his parramour?
    For feare of that I still will staie with thee,
    2960And neuer from this pallat of dym night.
    Depart againe, come lye thou in my arme,
    Heer's to thy health, where ere thou tumblest in.
    O true Appothecarie!
    Thy drugs are quicke. Thus with a kisse I die.
    2965Depart againe, here, here, will I remaine,
    With wormes that are thy Chamber-maides: O here
    Will I set vp my euerlasting rest:
    And shake the yoke of inauspicious starres,
    From this world wearied flesh, eyes looke your last:
    2970Armes take your last embrace: And lips, O you
    The doores of breath, seale with a righteous kisse
    A datelesse bargaine to ingrossing death:
    Come bitter conduct, come vnsauoury guide,
    Thou desperate Pilot, now at once run on
    2975The dashing Rocks, thy seasick weary barke:
    Heeres to my Loue. O true Appothecary:
    Thy drugs are quicke. Thus with a kisse I die.
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