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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
    Nur. O lamentable day!
    Mo. O wofull time!
    2610 Fa. Death that hath tane her hēce to make me waile
    Ties vp my tongue and will not let me speake.
    Enter Frier and the Countie.
    Fri. Come, is the Bride ready to go to Church?
    Fa. Ready to go but neuer to returne.
    2615O sonne, the night before thy wedding day
    Hath death laine with thy wife, there she lies,
    Flower as she was, deflowred by him,
    Death is my sonne in law, death is my heire,
    My daughter he hath wedded. I will die,
    2620And leaue him all life liuing, all is deaths.
    Par. Haue I thought loue to see this mornings face,
    And doth it giue me such a sight as this?
    Mo. Accurst, vnhappie, wretched hatefull day,
    Most miserable houre that ere time saw,
    2625In lasting labour of his Pilgrimage,
    But one poore one, one poore and louing child,
    But one thing to reioyce and solace in,
    And cruell death hath catcht it from my sight.
    Nur. O wo, O wofull, wofull, wofull day,
    2630Most lamentable day, most wofull day
    That euer, euer, I did yet bedold.
    O day, O day, O day, O hatefull day,
    Neuer was seene so blacke a day as this,
    O wofull day, O wofull day.
    2635 Par. Beguild, diuorced, wronged, spighted, slaine,
    Most detestable death, by thee beguild,
    By cruell, cruell, thee quite ouerthrowne,
    O loue, O life, not life, but loue in death.
    Fat. Despisde, distressed, hated, martird, kild,
    2640Vncomfortable time, why camst thou now,
    To murther, murther, our solemnitie?
    O childe, O childe, my soule and not my childe,
    Dead art thou, alacke my child is dead,
    And with my child my ioyes are buried.
    Fri. Peace