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  • Title: Romeo and Juliet (Quarto 2, 1599)
  • 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 (Quarto 2, 1599)

    The most lamentable Tragedie
    The precious treasure of his eye-sight lost,
    Shew me a mistresse that is passing faire,
    What doth her bewtie serue but as a note,
    Where I may reade who past that passing faire:
    245Farewel, thou canst not teach me to forget,
    Ben. Ile pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. Exeunt.
    Enter Capulet, Countie Paris, and the Clowne.
    Capu. But Mountague is bound as well as I,
    In penaltie alike, and tis not hard I thinke,
    250For men so old as we to keepe the peace.
    Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both,
    And pittie tis, you liu'd at ods so long:
    But now my Lord, what say you to my sute?
    Capu. But saying ore what I haue said before,
    255My child is yet a straunger in the world,
    Shee hath not seene the chaunge of fourteen yeares,
    Let two more Sommers wither in their pride,
    Ere we may thinke her ripe to be a bride.
    Pari. Younger then she, are happie mothers made.
    260Capu. And too soone mard are those so early made:
    Earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she,
    Shees the hopefull Lady of my earth:
    But wooe her gentle Paris, get her hart,
    My will to her consent, is but a part.
    265And shee agreed, within her scope of choise
    Lyes my consent, and faire according voyce:
    This night I hold, an old accustomd feast,
    Whereto I haue inuited many a guest:
    Such as I loue, and you among the store,
    270One more, most welcome makes my number more:
    At my poore house, looke to behold this night,
    Earthtreading starres, that make darke heauen light:
    Such comfort as do lustie young men feele,
    When well appareld Aprill on the heele,
    275Of limping winter treads, euen such delight
    Among fresh fennell buds shall you this night
    Inherit at my house, heare all, all see: