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  • Title: Romeo and Juliet (Quarto 1, 1597)
  • 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    Not Peer Reviewed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 (Quarto 1, 1597)

    Ro: He iests at scars that neuer felt a wound:
    795But soft, what light forth yonder window breakes?
    It is the East, and Iuliet is the Sunne,
    Arise faire S nne, and kill the enuious Moone
    That is alreadie sicke, and pale with griefe:
    That thou her maid, art far more faire than she.
    800Be not her maide since she is enuious,
    Her vestall liuerie is but pale and greene,
    And none but fooles doe weare it, cast it off.
    She speakes, but she sayes nothing. What of that?
    805Her eye discourseth, I will answere it.
    I am too bold, tis not to me she speakes,
    Two of the fairest starres in all the skies,
    Hauing some busines, doe entreat her eyes
    To twinckle in their spheares till they returne.
    810What if her eyes were there, they in her head,
    The brightnes of her cheekes would shame those stars:
    As day-light doth a Lampe, her eyes in heauen,
    Would through the airie region streame so bright,
    That birdes would sing, and thinke it were not night.
    815Oh now she leanes her cheekes vpon her hand,
    I would I were the gloue to that same hand,
    D That
    The most excellent Tragedie,
    That I might kisse that cheeke.
    Iul: Ay me.
    Rom: She speakes, Oh speake againe bright Angell:
    For thou art as glorious to this night beeing ouer my (head,
    As is a winged messenger of heauen
    Vnto the white vpturned woondring eyes,
    Of mortals that fall backe to gaze on him,
    825When he bestrides the lasie pacing cloudes,
    and sailes vpon the bosome of the aire.
    Iul: Ah Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
    Denie thy Father, and refuse thy name,
    Or if thou wilt not be but sworne my loue,
    830And il'e no longer be a Capulet.
    Rom: Shall I heare more, or shall I speake to this?
    Iul: Tis but thy name that is mine enemie.
    Whats Mountague? It is nor hand nor foote,
    835Nor arme, nor face, nor any other part.
    Whats in a name? That which we call a Rose,
    By any other name would smell as sweet:
    So Romeo would, were he not Romeo cald,
    840Retaine the diuine perfection he owes:
    Without that title Romeo part thy name,
    And for that name which is no part of thee,
    Take all I haue.
    Rom: I take thee at thy word,
    845Call me but loue, and il'e be new Baptisde,
    Henceforth I neuer will be Romeo.
    Iu: What man art thou, that thus beskrind in night,
    Doest stumble on my counsaile?
    Ro: By a name I know not how to tell thee.
    My name deare Saint is hatefull to my selfe,
    Because it is an enemie to thee.
    of Romeo and Iuliet.
    Had I it written I would teare the word.
    Iul: My eares haue not yet drunk a hundred words
    855Of that tongues vtterance, yet I know the sound:
    Art thou not Romeo and a Mountague?
    Ro: Neyther faire Saint, if eyther thee displease.
    Iu: How camst thou hether, tell me and wherfore?
    860The Orchard walles are high and hard to clime,
    And the place death considering who thou art,
    If any of my kinsmen finde thee here.
    Ro: By loues light winges did I oreperch these wals,
    865For stonie limits cannot hold loue out,
    And what loue can doo,that dares loue attempt,
    Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
    Iul: If they doe finde thee they will murder thee.
    Ro: Alas there lies more perrill in thine eyes,
    870Then twentie of their swords, looke thou but sweete,
    And I am proofe against their enmitie.
    Iul: I would not for the world they shuld find thee (here.
    Ro: I haue nights cloak to hide thee from their sight,
    And but thou loue me let them finde me here:
    875For life were better ended by their hate,
    Than death proroged wanting of thy loue.
    Iu: By whose directions foundst thou out this place.
    Ro: By loue, who first did prompt me to enquire,
    I he gaue me counsaile and I lent him eyes.
    880I am no Pilot: yet wert thou as farre
    As that vast shore, washt with the furthest sea,
    I would aduenture for such Marchandise.
    Iul: Thou knowst the maske of night is on my face,
    Els would a Maiden blush bepaint my cheeks:
    885For that which thou haste heard me speake to night,
    Faine would I dwell on forme, faine faine denie,
    D2 Wha
    The most excellent Tragedie,
    What I haue spoke: but farewell complements.
    Doest thou loue me? Nay I know thou wilt say I,
    And I will take thy word: but if thou swearst,
    890Thou maiest proue false:
    At Louers periuries they say Ioue smiles.
    Ah gentle Romeo, if thou loue pronounce it faithfully:
    Or if thou thinke I am too easely wonne,
    Il'e frowne and say thee nay and be peruerse,
    895So thou wilt wooe: but els not for the world,
    In truth faire Mountague, I am too fond,
    And therefore thou maiest thinke my hauiour light:
    But trust me gentleman Ile proue more true,
    Than they that haue more cunning to be strange.
    900I should haue bin strange I must confesse,
    But that thou ouer-heardst 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.
    905Ro: By yonder blessed Moone I sweare,
    That tips with siluer all these fruit trees tops.
    Jul: O sweare not by the Moone the vnconstant (Moone,
    That monthlie changeth in her circled orbe,
    Least that thy loue proue likewise variable.
    910Ro: Now by
    Iul: Nay doo not sweare at all,
    Or if thou sweare, sweare by thy glorious selfe,
    Which art the God of my Idolatrie,
    And il'e beleeue thee.
    915Ro: If my true harts loue
    Iul: Sweare not at al, though I doo ioy in (thee
    I haue small ioy in this contract to night,
    It is too rash, too sodaine, too vnaduisde,
    of Romeo and Iuliet.
    Too like the lightning that doth cease to bee
    920Ere one can say it lightens. I heare some comming,
    Deare loue adew, sweet Mountague be true,
    940Stay but a little and il'e come againe.
    Ro: O blessed blessed night, I feare being night,
    All this is but a dreame I heare and see,
    Too flattering true to be substantiall.
    Iul: Three wordes good Romeo and good night in- (deed.
    If that thy bent of loue be honourable?
    Thy purpose marriage, send me word to morrow
    By one that il'e procure to come to thee:
    Where and what time thou wilt performe that right,
    950And al my fortunes at thy foote il'e lay,
    And follow thee my Lord through out the world.
    Ro: Loue goes toward loue like schoole boyes from
    their bookes,
    But loue from loue, to schoole with heauie lookes.
    Iul: Romeo, Romeo, O for a falkners voice,
    965To lure this Tassell gentle backe againe:
    Bondage is hoarse and may not crie aloud,
    Els would I teare the Caue where Eccho lies
    And make her airie voice as hoarse as mine,
    With repetition of my Romeos name.
    970Ro: It is my soule that calles vpon my name,
    How siluer sweet sound louers tongues in night.
    Iul: Romeo?
    Ro: Madame.
    975Iul: At what a clocke to morrow shall I send?
    Ro: At the houre of nine.
    Iul: I will not faile, tis twentie yeares till then.
    Romeo I haue forgot why I did call thee backe.
    D3 Rom:
    The most excellent Tragedie,
    980Rom: Let me stay here till you remember it.
    Iul: I shall forget to haue thee still staie here,
    Remembring how I loue thy companie.
    Rom: And il'e stay still to haue thee still forget,
    Forgetting any other home but this.
    985Iu: Tis almost morning I would haue thee gone,
    But yet no further then a wantons bird,
    Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
    Like a pore prisoner in his twisted giues,
    And with a silke thred puls it backe againe,
    990Too louing iealous of his libertie.
    Ro: Would I were thy bird.
    Iul: Sweet so would I,
    Yet I should kill thee with much cherrishing thee.
    Good night, good night, parting is such sweet sorrow,
    That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
    Rom: Sleepe dwell vpon thine eyes, peace on thy (breast.
    I would that I were sleep and peace of sweet to rest.
    Now will I go to my Ghostly fathers Cell,
    His help to craue, and my good hap to tell.