The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: gg1v - Tragedies, p. 74

Left Column


The Tragedie of Romeo and Iuliet. Because Musitions haue no gold for sounding: Then Musicke with her siluer sound, with speedy helpe doth lend redresse. Exit. Mu.
[2630]
What a pestilent knaue is this same?
M. 2.

Hang him Iacke, come weele in here, tarrie for

the Mourners, and stay dinner.

Exit.
[Act 5, Scene 1] Enter Romeo. Rom. If I may trust the flattering truth of sleepe, My dreames presage some ioyfull newes at hand:
[2635]
My bosomes L. Lord sits lightly in his throne: And all thisan day an vnaccustom'd spirit, Lifts me aboue the ground with cheerefull thoughts. I dreamt my Lady came and found me dead, (Strange dreame that giues a dead man leaue to thinke,)
[2640]
And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips, That I reuiud and was an Emperour. Ah me, how sweet is loue it selfe possest, When but loues shadowes are so rich in ioy. Enter Romeo's man. Newes from Verona, how now Balthazer?
[2645]
Dost thou not bring me Letters from the Frier? How doth my Lady? Is my Father well ? How doth my Lady Iuliet? that I aske againe, For nothing can be ill, is she be well.
Man. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.
[2650]
Her body sleepes in Capels Monument, And her immortall part with Angels liue, I saw her laid low in her kindreds Vault, And presently tooke Poste to tell it you: O pardon me for bringing these ill newes,
[2655]
Since you did leaue it for my office Sir.
Rom. Is it euen so? Then I denie you Starres. Thou knowest my lodging, get me inke and paper, And hire Post‑Horses, I will hence to night. Man.
[2660]
I do beseech you sir, haue patience: Your lookes are pale and wild, and do import Some misaduenture.
Rom. Tush, thou art deceiu'd, Leaue me, and do the thing I bid thee do.
[2665]
Hast thou no Letters to me from the Frier?
Man. No my good Lord. Exit Man. Rom. No matter: Get thee gone, And hyre those Horses, Ile be with thee straight. Well Iuliet, I will lie with thee to night:
[2670]
Lets see for meanes, O mischiefe thou art swift, To enter in the thoughts of desperate men: I do remember an Appothecarie, And here abouts dwells, which late I noted In tattred weeds, with ouerwhelming browes,
[2675]
Culling of Simples, meager were his lookes, Sharp miserie had worne him to the bones: And in his needie shop a Tortoyrs hung, An Allegater stuft, and other skins Of ill shap'd fishes, and about his shelues,
[2680]
A beggerly account of emptie boxes, Greene earthen pots, Bladders, and mustie seedes, Remnants of packthred, and old cakes of Roses Were thinly scattered, to make vp a shew. Noting this penury, to my selfe I said,
[2685]
An if a man did need a poyson now, Whose sale is persent death in Mantua, Here liues a Caitiffe wretch would sell it him. O this same thought did but fore‑run my need, And this same needie man must sell it me.

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Right Column


[2690]
As I remember, this should be the house, Being holy day, the beggers shop is shut. What ho? Appothecarie?
Enter Appothecarie. App. Who call's so low'd? Rom. Come hither man, I see that thou art poore,
[2695]
Hold, there is fortie Duckets, let me haue A dram of poyson, such soone speeding geare, As will disperse it selfe through all the veines, That the life‑wearie‑taker may fall dead, And that the Trunke may be discharg'd of breath,
[2700]
As violently, as hastie powder fier'd Doth hurry from the fatall Canons wombe.
App. Such mortall drugs I haue, but Mantuas law Is death to any he, that vtters them. Rom. Art thou so bare and full of wretchednesse,
[2705]
And fear'st to die? Famine is in thy cheekes, Need and opression starueth in thy eyes, Contempt and beggery hangs vpon thy backe i The world is not thy friend, nor the worlds law: The world affords no law to make thee rich.
[2710]
Then be not poore, but breake it, and take this.
App. My pouerty, but not my will consents. Rom. I pray thy pouerty, and not thy will. App. Put this in any liquid thing you will And drinke it off, and if you had the strength
[2715]
Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.
Rom. There's thy Gold, Worse poyson to mens soules, Doing more murther in this loathsome world, Then these poore compounds that thou maiest not sell.
[2720]
I sell thee poyson, thou hast sold me none, Farewell, buy food, and get thy selfe in flesh. Come Cordiall, and not poyson, go with me To Iuliets graue, for there must I vse thee.
Exeunt.
[Act 5, Scene 2] Enter Frier Iohn to Frier Lawrence. Iohn. Holy Franciscan Frier, Brother, ho? Enter Frier Lawrence. Law.
[2725]
This same should be the voice of Frier Iohn. Welcome from Mantua, what sayes Romeo? Or if his mind be writ, giue me his Letter.
Iohn. Going to find a bare‑foote Brother out, One of our order to associate me,
[2730]
Here in this Citie visiting the sick, And finding him, the Searchers of the Towne Suspecting that we both were in a house Where the infectious pestilence did raigne, Seal'd vp the doores, and would not let vs forth,
[2735]
So that my speed to Mantua there was staid.
Law. Who bare my Letter then to Romeo? Iohn. I could not send it, here it is againe, Nor get a messenger to bring it thee, So fearefull were they of infection. Law.
[2740]
Vnhappie Fortune: by my Brotherhood The Letter was not nice, but full of charge, Of deare import, and the neglecting it May do much danger: Frier Iohn go hence, Get me an Iron Crow, and bring it straight
[2745]
Vnto my Cell.
Iohn. Brother Ile go and bring it thee. Exit. Law. Now must I to the Monument alone, Within this three houres will faire Iuliet wake, Shee will beshrew me much that Romeo
[2750]
Hath had no notice of these accidents: But I will write againe to Mantua, And

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[Act 5, Scene 1] Enter Romeo. Rom. If I may trust the flattering truth of sleepe, My dreames presage some ioyfull newes at hand:
[2635]
My bosomes L. Lord sits lightly in his throne: And all thisan day an vnaccustom'd spirit, Lifts me aboue the ground with cheerefull thoughts. I dreamt my Lady came and found me dead, (Strange dreame that giues a dead man leaue to thinke,)
[2640]
And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips, That I reuiud and was an Emperour. Ah me, how sweet is loue it selfe possest, When but loues shadowes are so rich in ioy. Enter Romeo's man. Newes from Verona, how now Balthazer?
[2645]
Dost thou not bring me Letters from the Frier? How doth my Lady? Is my Father well ? How doth my Lady Iuliet? that I aske againe, For nothing can be ill, is she be well.
Man. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.
[2650]
Her body sleepes in Capels Monument, And her immortall part with Angels liue, I saw her laid low in her kindreds Vault, And presently tooke Poste to tell it you: O pardon me for bringing these ill newes,
[2655]
Since you did leaue it for my office Sir.
Rom. Is it euen so? Then I denie you Starres. Thou knowest my lodging, get me inke and paper, And hire Post‑Horses, I will hence to night. Man.
[2660]
I do beseech you sir, haue patience: Your lookes are pale and wild, and do import Some misaduenture.
Rom. Tush, thou art deceiu'd, Leaue me, and do the thing I bid thee do.
[2665]
Hast thou no Letters to me from the Frier?
Man. No my good Lord. Exit Man. Rom. No matter: Get thee gone, And hyre those Horses, Ile be with thee straight. Well Iuliet, I will lie with thee to night:
[2670]
Lets see for meanes, O mischiefe thou art swift, To enter in the thoughts of desperate men: I do remember an Appothecarie, And here abouts dwells, which late I noted In tattred weeds, with ouerwhelming browes,
[2675]
Culling of Simples, meager were his lookes, Sharp miserie had worne him to the bones: And in his needie shop a Tortoyrs hung, An Allegater stuft, and other skins Of ill shap'd fishes, and about his shelues,
[2680]
A beggerly account of emptie boxes, Greene earthen pots, Bladders, and mustie seedes, Remnants of packthred, and old cakes of Roses Were thinly scattered, to make vp a shew. Noting this penury, to my selfe I said,
[2685]
An if a man did need a poyson now, Whose sale is persent death in Mantua, Here liues a Caitiffe wretch would sell it him. O this same thought did but fore‑run my need, And this same needie man must sell it me.
[2690]
As I remember, this should be the house, Being holy day, the beggers shop is shut. What ho? Appothecarie?
Enter Appothecarie. App. Who call's so low'd? Rom. Come hither man, I see that thou art poore,
[2695]
Hold, there is fortie Duckets, let me haue A dram of poyson, such soone speeding geare, As will disperse it selfe through all the veines, That the life‑wearie‑taker may fall dead, And that the Trunke may be discharg'd of breath,
[2700]
As violently, as hastie powder fier'd Doth hurry from the fatall Canons wombe.
App. Such mortall drugs I haue, but Mantuas law Is death to any he, that vtters them. Rom. Art thou so bare and full of wretchednesse,
[2705]
And fear'st to die? Famine is in thy cheekes, Need and opression starueth in thy eyes, Contempt and beggery hangs vpon thy backe i The world is not thy friend, nor the worlds law: The world affords no law to make thee rich.
[2710]
Then be not poore, but breake it, and take this.
App. My pouerty, but not my will consents. Rom. I pray thy pouerty, and not thy will. App. Put this in any liquid thing you will And drinke it off, and if you had the strength
[2715]
Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.
Rom. There's thy Gold, Worse poyson to mens soules, Doing more murther in this loathsome world, Then these poore compounds that thou maiest not sell.
[2720]
I sell thee poyson, thou hast sold me none, Farewell, buy food, and get thy selfe in flesh. Come Cordiall, and not poyson, go with me To Iuliets graue, for there must I vse thee.
Exeunt.
 

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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="1" rend="notPresent">
   <head type="supplied">[Act 5, Scene 1]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Romeo.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="2633">If I may trust the flattering truth of sleepe,</l>
      <l n="2634">My dreames presage some ioyfull newes at hand:</l>
      <l n="2635">My bosomes<choice>
            <abbr>L.</abbr>
            <expan>Lord</expan>
         </choice>sits lightly in his throne:</l>
      <l n="2636">And all thisan day an vnaccustom'd spirit,</l>
      <l n="2637">Lifts me aboue the ground with cheerefull thoughts.</l>
      <l n="2638">I dreamt my Lady came and found me dead,</l>
      <l n="2639">(Strange dreame that giues a dead man leaue to thinke,)</l>
      <l n="2640">And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,</l>
      <l n="2641">That I reuiud and was an Emperour.</l>
      <l n="2642">Ah me, how sweet is loue it selfe possest,</l>
      <l n="2643">When but loues shadowes are so rich in ioy.</l>
      <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Romeo's man.</stage>
      <l n="2644">Newes from<hi rend="italic">Verona</hi>, how now<hi rend="italic">Balthazer</hi>?</l>
      <l n="2645">Dost thou not bring me Letters from the Frier?</l>
      <l n="2646">How doth my Lady? Is my Father well<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
      <l n="2647">How doth my Lady<hi rend="italic">Iuliet</hi>? that I aske againe,</l>
      <l n="2648">For nothing can be ill, is she be well.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-bal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Man.</speaker>
      <l n="2649">Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.</l>
      <l n="2650">Her body sleepes in<hi rend="italic">Capels</hi>Monument,</l>
      <l n="2651">And her immortall part with Angels liue,</l>
      <l n="2652">I saw her laid low in her kindreds Vault,</l>
      <l n="2653">And presently tooke Poste to tell it you:</l>
      <l n="2654">O pardon me for bringing these ill newes,</l>
      <l n="2655">Since you did leaue it for my office Sir.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="2656">Is it euen so?</l>
      <l n="2657">Then I denie you Starres.</l>
      <l n="2658">Thou knowest my lodging, get me inke and paper,</l>
      <l n="2659">And hire Post‑Horses, I will hence to night.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-bal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Man.</speaker>
      <l n="2660">I do beseech you sir, haue patience:</l>
      <l n="2661">Your lookes are pale and wild, and do import</l>
      <l n="2662">Some misaduenture.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="2663">Tush, thou art deceiu'd,</l>
      <l n="2664">Leaue me, and do the thing I bid thee do.</l>
      <l n="2665">Hast thou no Letters to me from the Frier?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-bal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Man.</speaker>
      <l n="2666">No my good Lord.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit Man.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="2667">No matter: Get thee gone,</l>
      <l n="2668">And hyre those Horses, Ile be with thee straight.</l>
      <l n="2669">Well<hi rend="italic">Iuliet</hi>, I will lie with thee to night:</l>
      <l n="2670">Lets see for meanes, O mischiefe thou art swift,</l>
      <l n="2671">To enter in the thoughts of desperate men:</l>
      <l n="2672">I do remember an Appothecarie,</l>
      <l n="2673">And here abouts dwells, which late I noted</l>
      <l n="2674">In tattred weeds, with ouerwhelming browes,</l>
      <l n="2675">Culling of Simples, meager were his lookes,</l>
      <l n="2676">Sharp miserie had worne him to the bones:</l>
      <l n="2677">And in his needie shop a Tortoyrs hung,</l>
      <l n="2678">An Allegater stuft, and other skins</l>
      <l n="2679">Of ill shap'd fishes, and about his shelues,</l>
      <l n="2680">A beggerly account of emptie boxes,</l>
      <l n="2681">Greene earthen pots, Bladders, and mustie seedes,</l>
      <l n="2682">Remnants of packthred, and old cakes of Roses</l>
      <l n="2683">Were thinly scattered, to make vp a shew.</l>
      <l n="2684">Noting this penury, to my selfe I said,</l>
      <l n="2685">An if a man did need a poyson now,</l>
      <l n="2686">Whose sale is persent death in<hi rend="italic">Mantua</hi>,</l>
      <l n="2687">Here liues a Caitiffe wretch would sell it him.</l>
      <l n="2688">O this same thought did but fore‑run my need,</l>
      <l n="2689">And this same needie man must sell it me.</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="2690">As I remember, this should be the house,</l>
      <l n="2691">Being holy day, the beggers shop is shut.</l>
      <l n="2692">What ho? Appothecarie?</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Appothecarie.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-rom-apo">
      <speaker rend="italic">App.</speaker>
      <l n="2693">Who call's so low'd?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="2694">Come hither man, I see that thou art poore,</l>
      <l n="2695">Hold, there is fortie Duckets, let me haue</l>
      <l n="2696">A dram of poyson, such soone speeding geare,</l>
      <l n="2697">As will disperse it selfe through all the veines,</l>
      <l n="2698">That the life‑wearie‑taker may fall dead,</l>
      <l n="2699">And that the Trunke may be discharg'd of breath,</l>
      <l n="2700">As violently, as hastie powder fier'd</l>
      <l n="2701">Doth hurry from the fatall Canons wombe.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-apo">
      <speaker rend="italic">App.</speaker>
      <l n="2702">Such mortall drugs I haue, but<hi rend="italic">Mantuas</hi>law</l>
      <l n="2703">Is death to any he, that vtters them.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="2704">Art thou so bare and full of wretchednesse,</l>
      <l n="2705">And fear'st to die? Famine is in thy cheekes,</l>
      <l n="2706">Need and opression starueth in thy eyes,</l>
      <l n="2707">Contempt and beggery hangs vpon thy backe i</l>
      <l n="2708">The world is not thy friend, nor the worlds law:</l>
      <l n="2709">The world affords no law to make thee rich.</l>
      <l n="2710">Then be not poore, but breake it, and take this.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-apo">
      <speaker rend="italic">App.</speaker>
      <l n="2711">My pouerty, but not my will consents.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="2712">I pray thy pouerty, and not thy will.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-apo">
      <speaker rend="italic">App.</speaker>
      <l n="2713">Put this in any liquid thing you will</l>
      <l n="2714">And drinke it off, and if you had the strength</l>
      <l n="2715">Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="2716">There's thy Gold,</l>
      <l n="2717">Worse poyson to mens soules,</l>
      <l n="2718">Doing more murther in this loathsome world,</l>
      <l n="2719">Then these poore compounds that thou maiest not sell.</l>
      <l n="2720">I sell thee poyson, thou hast sold me none,</l>
      <l n="2721">Farewell, buy food, and get thy selfe in flesh.</l>
      <l n="2722">Come Cordiall, and not poyson, go with me</l>
      <l n="2723">To<hi rend="italic">Iuliets</hi>graue, for there must I vse thee.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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