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: ff4v - Tragedies, p. 68

Left Column


The Tragedie of Romeo and Iuliet. Since birth, and heauen and earth, all three do meete In thee at once, which thou at once would'st loose. Fie, fie, thou sham'st thy shape, thy loue, thy wit,
[1875]
Which like a Vsurer abound'st in all: And vsest none in that true vse indeed, Which should bedecke thy shape, thy loue, thy wit: Thy Noble shape, is but a forme of waxe, Digressing from the Valour of a man,
[1880]
Thy deare Loue sworne but hollow periurie, Killing that Loue which thou hast vow'd to cherish. Thy wit, that Ornament, to shape and Loue, Mishapen in the conduct of them both: Like powder in a skillesse Souldiers flaske,
[1885]
Is set a fire by thine owne ignorance, And thou dismembred with thine owne defence. What, rowse thee man, thy Iuliet is aliue, For whose deare sake thou wast but lately dead. There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,
[1890]
But thou slew'st Tybalt, there art thou happie. The law that threatned death became thy Friend, And turn'd it to exile, there art thou happy. A packe or blessing light vpon thy backe, Happinesse Courts thee in her best array,
[1895]
But like a mishaped and sullen wench, Thou puttest vp thy Fortune and thy Loue: Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. Goe get thee to thy Loue as was decreed, Ascend her Chamber, hence and comfort her:
[1900]
But looke thou stay not till the watch be set, For then thou canst not passe to Mantua, Where thou shalt liue till we can finde a time To blaze your marriage, reconcile your Friends, Beg pardon of thy Prince, and call thee backe,
[1905]
With twenty hundred thousand times more ioy Then thou went'st forth in lamentation. Goe before Nurse, commend me to thy Lady, And bid her hasten all the house to bed, Which heauy sorrow makes them apt vnto.
[1910]
Romeo is comming.
Nur. O Lord, I could haue staid here all night, To heare good counsell: oh what learning is! My Lord Ile tell my Lady you will come. Rom. Do so, and bid my Sweete prepare to chide. Nur.
[1915]
Heere sir, a Ring she bid me giue you sir: Hie you, make hast, for it growes very late.
Rom. How well my comfort is reuiu'd by this. Fri. Go hence, Goodnight, and here stands all your state:
[1920]
Either be gone before the watch be set, Or by the breake of day disguis'd from hence, Soiourne in Mantua, Ile find out your man, And he shall signifie from time to time, Euery good hap to you, that chaunces heere:
[1925]
Giue me thy hand, 'tis late, farewell, goodnight.
Rom. But that a ioy past ioy, calls out on me, It were a griefe, so briefe to part with thee: Farewell. Exeunt.
[Act 3, Scene 4] Enter old Capulet, his Wife and Paris. Cap. Things haue falne out sir so vnluckily,
[1930]
That we haue had no time to moue our Daughter: Looke you, she Lou'd her kinsman Tybalt dearely, And so did I. Well, we were borne to die. 'Tis very late, she'l not come downe to night: I promise you, but for your company,

Right Column


[1935]
I would haue bin a bed an houre ago.
Par. These times of wo, affoord no times to wooe: Madam goodnight, commend me to your Daughter. Lady. I will, and know her mind early to morrow, To night, she is mewed vp to her heauinesse. Cap.
[1940]
Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender Of my Childes loue: I thinke she will be rul'd In all respects by me: nay more, I doubt it not. Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed, Acquaint her here, of my Sonne Paris Loue,
[1945]
And bid her, marke you me, on Wendsday next, But soft, what day is this?
Par. Monday my Lord. Cap. Monday, ha ha: well Wendsday is too soone, A Thursday let it be: a Thursday tell her,
[1950]
She shall be married to this Noble Earle: Will you be ready? do you like this hast ? Weele keepe no great adoe, a Friend or two, For harke you, Tybalt being slaine so late, It may be thought we held him carelesly,
[1955]
Being our kinsman, if we reuell much: Therefore weele haue some halfe a dozen Friends, And there an end. But what say you to Thursday ?
Paris. My Lord, I would that Thursday were to morrow. Cap.
[1960]
Well, get you gone, a Thursday, be it then: Go you to Iuliet ere you go to bed, Prepare her wife, against this wedding day. Farewell my Lord, light to my Chamber hoa, Afore me, it is so late, that we may call it early by and by,
[1965]
Goodnight.
Exeunt.
[Act 3, Scene 5] Enter Romeo and Iuliet aloft. Iul. Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet neere day: It was the Nightingale, and not the Larke, That pier'st the fearefull hollow of thine eare, Nightly she sings on yond Pomgranet tree,
[1970]
Beleeue me Loue, it was the Nightingale.
Rom. It was the Larke the Herauld of the Morne: No Nightingale: looke Loue what enuious streakes Do lace the seuering Cloudes in yonder East: Nights Candles are burnt out, and Iocond day
[1975]
Stands tipto on the mistie Mountaines tops, I must be gone and liue, or stay and die.
Iul. Yond light is not daylight, I know it I: It is some Meteor that the Sun exhales, To be to thee this night a Torch‑bearer,
[1980]
And light thee on thy way to Mantua. Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not be gone,
Rom. Let me be tane, let me be put to death, I am content, so thou wilt haue it so. Ile say yon gray is not the mornings eye,
[1985]
'Tis but the pale reflexe of Cinthias brow. Nor that is not Larke whose noates do beate The vaulty heauen so high aboue our heads, I haue more care to stay, then will to go: Come death and welcome, Iuliet wills it so.
[1990]
How ist my soule, lets talke, it is not day.
Iuli. It is, it is, hie hence be gone away: It is the Larke that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh Discords, and vnpleasing Sharpes. Some say the Larke makes sweete Diuision;
[1995]
This doth not so: for she diuideth vs. Some say, the Larke and loathed Toad change eyes, O now I would they had chang'd voyces too: Since

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[Act 3, Scene 5] Enter Romeo and Iuliet aloft. Iul. Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet neere day: It was the Nightingale, and not the Larke, That pier'st the fearefull hollow of thine eare, Nightly she sings on yond Pomgranet tree,
[1970]
Beleeue me Loue, it was the Nightingale.
Rom. It was the Larke the Herauld of the Morne: No Nightingale: looke Loue what enuious streakes Do lace the seuering Cloudes in yonder East: Nights Candles are burnt out, and Iocond day
[1975]
Stands tipto on the mistie Mountaines tops, I must be gone and liue, or stay and die.
Iul. Yond light is not daylight, I know it I: It is some Meteor that the Sun exhales, To be to thee this night a Torch‑bearer,
[1980]
And light thee on thy way to Mantua. Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not be gone,
Rom. Let me be tane, let me be put to death, I am content, so thou wilt haue it so. Ile say yon gray is not the mornings eye,
[1985]
'Tis but the pale reflexe of Cinthias brow. Nor that is not Larke whose noates do beate The vaulty heauen so high aboue our heads, I haue more care to stay, then will to go: Come death and welcome, Iuliet wills it so.
[1990]
How ist my soule, lets talke, it is not day.
Iuli. It is, it is, hie hence be gone away: It is the Larke that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh Discords, and vnpleasing Sharpes. Some say the Larke makes sweete Diuision;
[1995]
This doth not so: for she diuideth vs. Some say, the Larke and loathed Toad change eyes, O now I would they had chang'd voyces too: Since arme from arme that voyce doth vs affray, Hunting thee hence, with Hunt s‑vp to the day,
[2000]
O now be gone, more light and it light growes.
Rom. More light & light, more darke & darke our woes. Enter Madam and Nurse. Nur. Madam. Iul. Nurse. Nur. Your Lady Mother is comming to your chamber,
[2005]
The day is broke, be wary, looke about.
Iul. Then window let day in, and let life out. Rom. Farewell, farewell, one kisse and Ile descend. Iul. Art thou gone so? Loue, Lord, ay Husband, Friend, I must heare from thee euery day in the houre,
[2010]
For in a minute there are many dayes, O by this count I shall be much in yeares, Ere I againe behold my Romeo.
Rom. Farewell: I will omit no oportunitie,
[2015]
That may conuey my greetings Loue, to thee.
Iul. O thinkest thou we shall euer meet againe? Rom. I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serue For sweet discourses in our time to come. Iuliet. O God! I haue an ill Diuining soule,
[2020]
Me thinkes I see thee now, thou art so lowe, As one dead in the bottome of a Tombe, Either my eye‑sight failes, or thou look'st pale.
Rom. And trust me Loue, in my eye so do you: Drie sorrow drinkes our blood. Adue, adue. Exit. Iul.
[2025]
O Fortune, Fortune, all men call thee fickle, If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him That is renown'd for faith? be fickle Fortune: For then I hope thou wilt not keepe him long, But send him backe.
Enter Mother. Lad.
[2030]
Ho Daughter, are you vp?
Iul: Who ist that calls? Is it my Lady Mother. Is she not downe so late, or vp so early? What vnaccustom'd cause procures her hither? Lad. Why how now Iuliet? Iul.
[2035]
Madam I am not well.
Lad. Euermore weeping for your Cozins death ? What wilt thou wash him from his graue with teares? And if thou couldst, thou could'st not make him liue: Therefore haue done, some griefe shewes much of Loue,
[2040]
But much of griefe, shewes still some want of wit.
Iul. Yet let me weepe, for such a feeling losse. Lad. So shall you feele the losse, but not the Friend Which you weepe for. Iul. Feeling so the losse,
[2045]
I cannot chuse but euer weepe the Friend.
La. Well Girle, thou weep'st not so much for his death, As that the Villaine liues which slaughter'd him. Iul. What Villaine, Madam? Lad. That same Villaine Romeo. Iul.
[2050]
Villaine and he, be many Miles assunder: God pardon, I doe with all my heart: And yet no man like he, doth grieue my heart.
Lad. That is because the Traitor liues. Iul. I Madam from the reach of these my hands:
[2055]
Would none but I might venge my Cozins death.
Lad. We will haue vengeance for it, feare thou not. Then weepe no more, Ile send to one in Mantua, Where that same banisht Run‑agate doth liue, Shall giue him such an vnaccustom'd dram,
[2060]
That he shall soone keepe Tybalt company: And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied.
Iul. Indeed I neuer shall be satisfied With Romeo, till I behold him. Dead Is my poore heart so for a kinsman vext:
[2065]
Madam, if you could find out but a man To beare a poyson, I would temper it; That Romeo should vpon receit thereof, Soone sleepe in quiet. O how my heart abhors To heare him nam'd, and cannot come to him,
[2070]
To wreake the Loue I bore my Cozin, Vpon his body that hath slaughter'd him.
Mo. Find thou the meanes, and Ile find such a man. But now Ile tell thee ioyfull tidings Gyrle. Iul. And ioy comes well, in such a needy time,
[2075]
What are they, beseech your Ladyship?
Mo. Well, well, thou hast a carefull Father Child? One who to put thee from thy heauinesse, Hath sorted out a sudden day of ioy, That thou expects not, nor I lookt not for. Iul.
[2080]
Madam in happy time, what day is this?
Mo. Marry my Child, early next Thursday morne, The gallant, young, and Noble Gentleman, The Countie Paris at Saint Peters Church, Shall happily make thee a ioyfull Bride. Iul.
[2085]
Now by Sain Peters Church, and Peter too, He shall not make me there a ioyfull Bride. I wonder at this hast, that I must wed Ere he that should be Husband comes to woe: I pray you tell my Lord and Father Madam,
[2090]
I will not marrie yet, and when I doe, I sweare It shallbe Romeo, whom you know I hate Rather then Paris. These are newes indeed.
Mo. Here comes your Father, tell him so your selfe, And see how he will take it at your hands. Enter Capulet and Nurse. Cap.
[2095]
When the Sun sets, the earth doth drizzle daew But for the Sunset of my Brothers Sonne, It raines downright. How now ? A Conduit Gyrle, what still in teares? Euermore showring in one little body?
[2100]
Thou counterfaits a Barke, a Sea, a Wind: For still thy eyes, which I may call the Sea, Do ebbe and flow with teares, the Barke thy body is Sayling in this salt floud, the windes thy sighes, Who raging with the teares and they with them,
[2105]
Without a sudden calme will ouer set Thy tempest tossed body. How now wife? Haue you deliuered to her our decree?
Lady. I sir; But she will none, she giues you thankes,
[2110]
I would the foole were married to her graue.
Cap. Soft, take me with you, take me with you wife, How, will she none? doth she not giue vs thanks? Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest, Vnworthy as she is, that we haue wrought
[2115]
So worthy a Gentleman, to be her Bridegroome
Iul. Not proud you haue, But thankfull that you haue: Proud can I neuer be of what I haue, But thankfull euen for hate, that is meant Loue. Cap.
[2120]
How now? How now? Chopt Logicke? what is this? Proud, and I thanke you: and I thanke you not. Thanke me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds, But fettle your fine ioints 'gainst Thursday next,
[2125]
To go with Paris to Saint Peters Church: Or I will drag thee on a Hurdle thither. Out you greene sicknesse carrion, out you baggage, You tallow face.
Lady. Fie, fie, what are you mad? Iul.
[2130]
Good Father, I beseech you on my knees Heare me with patience, but to speake a word.
Fa. Hang thee young baggage, disobedient wretch, I tell thee what, get thee to Church a Thursday, Or neuer after looke me in the face.
[2135]
Speake not, reply not, do not answere me. My fingers itch, wife: we scarce thought vs blest, That God had lent vs but this onely Child, But now I see this one is one too much, And that we haue a curse in hauing her:
[2140]
Out on her Hilding.
Nur. God in heauen blesse her, You are too blame my Lord to rate her so. Fa. And why my Lady wisedome? hold your tongue, Good Prudence, smatter with your gossip, go. Nur.
[2145]
I speak no treason, Father, O Godigoden, May not one speake?
Fa. Peace you mumbling foole, Vtter your grauitie ore a Gossips bowles
[2150]
For here we need it not.
La. You are too hot. Fa. Gods bread, it makes me mad: Day, night, houre, ride, time, worke, play, Alone in companie, still my care hath bin
[2155]
To haue her matcht, and hauing now prouided A Gentleman of Noble Parentage, Of faire Demeanes, Youthfull, and Nobly Allied, Stuft as they say with Honourable parts, Proportion'd as ones thought would wish a man,
[2160]
And then to haue a wretched puling foole, A whining mammet, in her Fortunes tender, To answer, Ile not wed, I cannot Loue: I am too young, I pray you pardon me. But, and you will not wed, Ile pardon you.
[2165]
Graze where you will, you shall not house with me: Looke too't, thinke on't, I do not vse to iest. Here the page begins to be torn, increasingly obscuring the first letters of each line. Thursday is neere, lay hand on heart, aduise, And you be mine, Ile giue you to my Friend: And you be not, hang, beg, straue, die in the streets,
[2170]
For by my soule, Ile nere acknowledge thee, Nor what is mine shall neuer do thee good: T ust too't, bethinke you, Ile not be forsworne
Exit. Iuli. Is there no pittie sitting in the Cloudes, That sees into the bottome of my griefe?
[2175]
sweet my Mother cast me not away, lay this marriage, for a month, a weeke, if you do not, make the Bridall bed that dim Monument where Tybalt lies.
Mo. Talke not to me, for Ile not speake a word,
[2180]
o as thou wilt, for I haue done with thee.
Exit. Iul. O God! O Nurse, how shall this be preuented? My Husband is on earth, my faith in heauen, How shall that faith returne againe to earth,
[2185]
Vnlesse that Husband send it me from heauen, By leauing earth? Comfort me, counsaile me: Hlacke, alacke, that heauen should practise stratagems Vpon so soft a subiect as my selfe. What faist thou? hast thou not a word of ioy?
[2190]
Some comfort Nurse.
Nur. Faith here it is, Romeo is banished, and all the world to nothing, That he dares nere come backe to challenge you: Or if he do, it need must be by stealth.
[2195]
Then since the case so stands as now it doth, I thinke it best you married with the Countie, O hee's a Louely Gentleman: Romeos a dish‑clout to him: an Eagle Madam Hath not so greene, so quicke, so faire an eye
[2200]
As Paris hath, beshrow my very heart, I thinke you are happy in this second match, For it excels your first: or if it did not, Your first is dead, or 'twere as good he were, As liuing here and you no vse of him.
Iul.
[2205]
Speakest thou from thy heart ?
Nur. And from my soule too, Or else beshrew them both. Iul. Amen. Nur. What? Iul.
[2210]
Well, thou hast comforted me marue'lous much, Go in, and tell my Lady I am gone, Hauing displeas'd my Father, to Lawrence Cell, To make confession, and to be absolu'd.
Nur. Marrie I will, and this is wisely done. Iul.
[2215]
Auncient damnation, O most wicked fiend! It is more sin to wish me thus forsworne, Or to dispraise my Lord with that same tongue Which she hath prais'd him with aboue compare, So many thousand times? Go Counsellor,
[2220]
Thou and my bosome henchforth shall be twaine: Ile to the Frier to know his remedie, If all else faile, my selfe haue power to die.
Exeunt.
 

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<div type="scene" n="5" rend="notPresent">
   <head type="supplied">[Act 3, Scene 5]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Romeo and Iuliet aloft.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="1966">Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet neere day:</l>
      <l n="1967">It was the Nightingale, and not the Larke,</l>
      <l n="1968">That pier'st the fearefull hollow of thine eare,</l>
      <l n="1969">Nightly she sings on yond Pomgranet tree,</l>
      <l n="1970">Beleeue me Loue, it was the Nightingale.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="1971">It was the Larke the Herauld of the Morne:</l>
      <l n="1972">No Nightingale: looke Loue what enuious streakes</l>
      <l n="1973">Do lace the seuering Cloudes in yonder East:</l>
      <l n="1974">Nights Candles are burnt out, and Iocond day</l>
      <l n="1975">Stands tipto on the mistie Mountaines tops,</l>
      <l n="1976">I must be gone and liue, or stay and die.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="1977">Yond light is not daylight, I know it I:</l>
      <l n="1978">It is some Meteor that the Sun exhales,</l>
      <l n="1979">To be to thee this night a Torch‑bearer,</l>
      <l n="1980">And light thee on thy way to<hi rend="italic">Mantua</hi>.</l>
      <l n="1981">Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not be gone,</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="1982">Let me be tane, let me be put to death,</l>
      <l n="1983">I am content, so thou wilt haue it so.</l>
      <l n="1984">Ile say yon gray is not the mornings eye,</l>
      <l n="1985">'Tis but the pale reflexe of<hi rend="italic">Cinthias</hi>brow.</l>
      <l n="1986">Nor that is not Larke whose noates do beate</l>
      <l n="1987">The vaulty heauen so high aboue our heads,</l>
      <l n="1988">I haue more care to stay, then will to go:</l>
      <l n="1989">Come death and welcome,<hi rend="italic">Iuliet</hi>wills it so.</l>
      <l n="1990">How ist my soule, lets talke, it is not day.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iuli.</speaker>
      <l n="1991">It is, it is, hie hence be gone away:</l>
      <l n="1992">It is the Larke that sings so out of tune,</l>
      <l n="1993">Straining harsh Discords, and vnpleasing Sharpes.</l>
      <l n="1994">Some say the Larke makes sweete Diuision;</l>
      <l n="1995">This doth not so: for she diuideth vs.</l>
      <l n="1996">Some say, the Larke and loathed Toad change eyes,</l>
      <l n="1997">O now I would they had chang'd voyces too:</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0687-0.jpg" n="69"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="1998">Since arme from arme that voyce doth vs affray,</l>
      <l n="1999">Hunting thee hence, with Hunt s‑vp to the day,</l>
      <l n="2000">O now be gone, more light and it light growes.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="2001">More light &amp; light, more darke &amp; darke our woes.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Madam and Nurse.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-rom-nur">
      <speaker rend="italic">Nur.</speaker>
      <l n="2002">Madam.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2003">Nurse.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-nur">
      <speaker rend="italic">Nur.</speaker>
      <l n="2004">Your Lady Mother is comming to your chamber,</l>
      <l n="2005">The day is broke, be wary, looke about.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2006">Then window let day in, and let life out.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="2007">Farewell, farewell, one kisse and Ile descend.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2008">Art thou gone so? Loue, Lord, ay Husband, Friend,</l>
      <l n="2009">I must heare from thee euery day in the houre,</l>
      <l n="2010">For in a minute there are many dayes,</l>
      <l n="2011">O by this count I shall be much in yeares,</l>
      <l n="2012">Ere I againe behold my<hi rend="italic">Romeo</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="2013">Farewell:</l>
      <l n="2014">I will omit no oportunitie,</l>
      <l n="2015">That may conuey my greetings Loue, to thee.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2016">O thinkest thou we shall euer meet againe?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="2017">I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serue</l>
      <l n="2018">For sweet discourses in our time to come.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iuliet.</speaker>
      <l n="2019">O God! I haue an ill Diuining soule,</l>
      <l n="2020">Me thinkes I see thee now, thou art so lowe,</l>
      <l n="2021">As one dead in the bottome of a Tombe,</l>
      <l n="2022">Either my eye‑sight failes, or thou look'st pale.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-rom">
      <speaker rend="italic">Rom.</speaker>
      <l n="2023">And trust me Loue, in my eye so do you:</l>
      <l n="2024">Drie sorrow drinkes our blood. Adue, adue.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2025">O Fortune, Fortune, all men call thee fickle,</l>
      <l n="2026">If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him</l>
      <l n="2027">That is renown'd for faith? be fickle Fortune:</l>
      <l n="2028">For then I hope thou wilt not keepe him long,</l>
      <l n="2029">But send him backe.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Mother.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-rom-lac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lad.</speaker>
      <l n="2030">Ho Daughter, are you vp?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul:</speaker>
      <l n="2031">Who ist that calls? Is it my Lady Mother.</l>
      <l n="2032">Is she not downe so late, or vp so early?</l>
      <l n="2033">What vnaccustom'd cause procures her hither?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-lac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lad.</speaker>
      <l n="2034">Why how now<hi rend="italic">Iuliet</hi>?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2035">Madam I am not well.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-lac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lad.</speaker>
      <l n="2036">Euermore weeping for your Cozins death<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
      <l n="2037">What wilt thou wash him from his graue with teares?</l>
      <l n="2038">And if thou couldst, thou could'st not make him liue:</l>
      <l n="2039">Therefore haue done, some griefe shewes much of Loue,</l>
      <l n="2040">But much of griefe, shewes still some want of wit.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2041">Yet let me weepe, for such a feeling losse.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-lac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lad.</speaker>
      <l n="2042">So shall you feele the losse, but not the Friend</l>
      <l n="2043">Which you weepe for.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2044">Feeling so the losse,</l>
      <l n="2045">I cannot chuse but euer weepe the Friend.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-lac">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <l n="2046">Well Girle, thou weep'st not so much for his death,</l>
      <l n="2047">As that the Villaine liues which slaughter'd him.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2048">What Villaine, Madam?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-lac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lad.</speaker>
      <l n="2049">That same Villaine<hi rend="italic">Romeo</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2050">Villaine and he, be many Miles assunder:</l>
      <l n="2051">God pardon, I doe with all my heart:</l>
      <l n="2052">And yet no man like he, doth grieue my heart.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-lac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lad.</speaker>
      <l n="2053">That is because the Traitor liues.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2054">I Madam from the reach of these my hands:</l>
      <l n="2055">Would none but I might venge my Cozins death.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-lac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lad.</speaker>
      <l n="2056">We will haue vengeance for it, feare thou not.</l>
      <l n="2057">Then weepe no more, Ile send to one in<hi rend="italic">Mantua</hi>,</l>
      <l n="2058">Where that same banisht Run‑agate doth liue,</l>
      <l n="2059">Shall giue him such an vnaccustom'd dram,</l>
      <l n="2060">That he shall soone keepe<hi rend="italic">Tybalt</hi>company:</l>
      <l n="2061">And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied.</l>
   </sp>
   <cb n="2"/>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2062">Indeed I neuer shall be satisfied</l>
      <l n="2063">With<hi rend="italic">Romeo</hi>, till I behold him. Dead</l>
      <l n="2064">Is my poore heart so for a kinsman vext:</l>
      <l n="2065">Madam, if you could find out but a man</l>
      <l n="2066">To beare a poyson, I would temper it;</l>
      <l n="2067">That<hi rend="italic">Romeo</hi>should vpon receit thereof,</l>
      <l n="2068">Soone sleepe in quiet. O how my heart abhors</l>
      <l n="2069">To heare him nam'd, and cannot come to him,</l>
      <l n="2070">To wreake the Loue I bore my Cozin,</l>
      <l n="2071">Vpon his body that hath slaughter'd him.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-mon">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mo.</speaker>
      <l n="2072">Find thou the meanes, and Ile find such a man.</l>
      <l n="2073">But now Ile tell thee ioyfull tidings Gyrle.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2074">And ioy comes well, in such a needy time,</l>
      <l n="2075">What are they, beseech your Ladyship?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-mon">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mo.</speaker>
      <l n="2076">Well, well, thou hast a carefull Father Child?</l>
      <l n="2077">One who to put thee from thy heauinesse,</l>
      <l n="2078">Hath sorted out a sudden day of ioy,</l>
      <l n="2079">That thou expects not, nor I lookt not for.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2080">Madam in happy time, what day is this?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-mon">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mo.</speaker>
      <l n="2081">Marry my Child, early next Thursday morne,</l>
      <l n="2082">The gallant, young, and Noble Gentleman,</l>
      <l n="2083">The Countie<hi rend="italic">Paris</hi>at Saint<hi rend="italic">Peters</hi>Church,</l>
      <l n="2084">Shall happily make thee a ioyfull Bride.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2085">Now by Sain<gap extent="1"
              unit="chars"
              reason="illegible"
              agent="stain"
              resp="#ES"/>
         <hi rend="italic">Peters</hi>Church, and<hi rend="italic">Peter</hi>too,</l>
      <l n="2086">He shall not make me there a ioyfull Bride.</l>
      <l n="2087">I wonder at this hast, that I must wed</l>
      <l n="2088">Ere he that should be Husband comes to woe:</l>
      <l n="2089">I pray you tell my Lord and Father Madam,</l>
      <l n="2090">I will not marrie yet, and when I doe, I sweare</l>
      <l n="2091">It shallbe<hi rend="italic">Romeo</hi>, whom you know I hate</l>
      <l n="2092">Rather then Paris. These are newes indeed.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-mon">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mo.</speaker>
      <l n="2093">Here comes your Father, tell him so your selfe,</l>
      <l n="2094">And see how he will take it at your hands.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Capulet and Nurse.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-rom-cap">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cap.</speaker>
      <l n="2095">When the Sun sets, the earth doth drizzle daew</l>
      <l n="2096">But for the Sunset of my Brothers Sonne,</l>
      <l n="2097">It raines downright.</l>
      <l n="2098">How now<c rend="italic">?</c>A Conduit Gyrle, what still in teares?</l>
      <l n="2099">Euermore showring in one little body?</l>
      <l n="2100">Thou counterfaits a Barke, a Sea, a Wind:</l>
      <l n="2101">For still thy eyes, which I may call the Sea,</l>
      <l n="2102">Do ebbe and flow with teares, the Barke thy body is</l>
      <l n="2103">Sayling in this salt floud, the windes thy sighes,</l>
      <l n="2104">Who raging with the teares and they with them,</l>
      <l n="2105">Without a sudden calme will ouer set</l>
      <l n="2106">Thy tempest tossed body. How now wife?</l>
      <l n="2107">Haue you deliuered to her our decree?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-lac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lady.</speaker>
      <l n="2108">I sir;</l>
      <l n="2109">But she will none, she giues you thankes,</l>
      <l n="2110">I would the foole were married to her graue.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-cap">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cap.</speaker>
      <l n="2111">Soft, take me with you, take me with you wife,</l>
      <l n="2112">How, will she none? doth she not giue vs thanks?</l>
      <l n="2113">Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest,</l>
      <l n="2114">Vnworthy as she is, that we haue wrought</l>
      <l n="2115">So worthy a Gentleman, to be her Bridegroome</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2116">Not proud you haue,</l>
      <l n="2117">But thankfull that you haue:</l>
      <l n="2118">Proud can I neuer be of what I haue,</l>
      <l n="2119">But thankfull euen for hate, that is meant Loue.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-cap">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cap.</speaker>
      <l n="2120">How now?</l>
      <l n="2121">How now? Chopt Logicke? what is this?</l>
      <l n="2122">Proud, and I thanke you: and I thanke you not.</l>
      <l n="2123">Thanke me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,</l>
      <l n="2124">But fettle your fine ioints 'gainst Thursday next,</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0688-0.jpg" n="70"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="2125">To go with<hi rend="italic">Paris</hi>to Saint<hi rend="italic">Peters</hi>Church:</l>
      <l n="2126">Or I will drag thee on a Hurdle thither.</l>
      <l n="2127">Out you greene sicknesse carrion, out you baggage,</l>
      <l n="2128">You tallow face.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-lac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lady.</speaker>
      <l n="2129">Fie, fie, what are you mad?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2130">Good Father, I beseech you on my knees</l>
      <l n="2131">Heare me with patience, but to speake a word.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-cap">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fa.</speaker>
      <l n="2132">Hang thee young baggage, disobedient wretch,</l>
      <l n="2133">I tell thee what, get thee to Church a Thursday,</l>
      <l n="2134">Or neuer after looke me in the face.</l>
      <l n="2135">Speake not, reply not, do not answere me.</l>
      <l n="2136">My fingers itch, wife: we scarce thought vs blest,</l>
      <l n="2137">That God had lent vs but this onely Child,</l>
      <l n="2138">But now I see this one is one too much,</l>
      <l n="2139">And that we haue a curse in hauing her:</l>
      <l n="2140">Out on her Hilding.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-nur">
      <speaker rend="italic">Nur.</speaker>
      <l n="2141">God in heauen blesse her,</l>
      <l n="2142">You are too blame my Lord to rate her so.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-cap">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fa.</speaker>
      <l n="2143">And why my Lady wisedome? hold your tongue,</l>
      <l n="2144">Good Prudence, smatter with your gossip, go.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-nur">
      <speaker rend="italic">Nur.</speaker>
      <l n="2145">I speak no treason,</l>
      <l n="2146">Father, O Godigoden,</l>
      <l n="2147">May not one speake?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-cap">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fa.</speaker>
      <l n="2148">Peace you mumbling foole,</l>
      <l n="2149">Vtter your grauitie ore a Gossips bowles</l>
      <l n="2150">For here we need it not.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-lac">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <l n="2151">You are too hot.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-cap">
      <speaker rend="italic">Fa.</speaker>
      <l n="2152">Gods bread, it makes me mad:</l>
      <l n="2153">Day, night, houre, ride, time, worke, play,</l>
      <l n="2154">Alone in companie, still my care hath bin</l>
      <l n="2155">To haue her matcht, and hauing now prouided</l>
      <l n="2156">A Gentleman of Noble Parentage,</l>
      <l n="2157">Of faire Demeanes, Youthfull, and Nobly Allied,</l>
      <l n="2158">Stuft as they say with Honourable parts,</l>
      <l n="2159">Proportion'd as ones thought would wish a man,</l>
      <l n="2160">And then to haue a wretched puling foole,</l>
      <l n="2161">A whining mammet, in her Fortunes tender,</l>
      <l n="2162">To answer, Ile not wed, I cannot Loue:</l>
      <l n="2163">I am too young, I pray you pardon me.</l>
      <l n="2164">But, and you will not wed, Ile pardon you.</l>
      <l n="2165">Graze where you will, you shall not house with me:</l>
      <l n="2166">Looke too't, thinke on't, I do not vse to iest.</l>
      <note resp="#ES">Here the page begins to be torn, increasingly obscuring the first letters of each line.</note>
      <l n="2167">Thursday is neere, lay hand on heart, aduise,</l>
      <l n="2168">And you be mine, Ile giue you to my Friend:</l>
      <l n="2169">And you be not, hang, beg, straue, die in the streets,</l>
      <l n="2170">For by my soule, Ile nere acknowledge thee,</l>
      <l n="2171">Nor what is mine shall neuer do thee good:</l>
      <l n="2172">T<gap extent="1"
              unit="chars"
              reason="absent"
              agent="torn"
              resp="#ES"/>ust too't, bethinke you, Ile not be forsworne</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iuli.</speaker>
      <l n="2173">Is there no pittie sitting in the Cloudes,</l>
      <l n="2174">That sees into the bottome of my griefe?</l>
      <l n="2175">
         <gap extent="2"
              unit="chars"
              reason="absent"
              agent="torn"
              resp="#ES"/>sweet my Mother cast me not away,</l>
      <l n="2176">
         <gap extent="2"
              unit="chars"
              reason="absent"
              agent="torn"
              resp="#ES"/>lay this marriage, for a month, a weeke,</l>
      <l n="2177">
         <gap extent="1"
              unit="words"
              reason="absent"
              agent="torn"
              resp="#ES"/>if you do not, make the Bridall bed</l>
      <l n="2178">
         <gap extent="1"
              unit="words"
              reason="absent"
              agent="torn"
              resp="#ES"/>that dim Monument where<hi rend="italic">Tybalt</hi>lies.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-mon">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mo.</speaker>
      <l n="2179">Talke not to me, for Ile not speake a word,</l>
      <l n="2180">
         <gap extent="1"
              unit="chars"
              reason="absent"
              agent="torn"
              resp="#ES"/>o as thou wilt, for I haue done with thee.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2181">O God!</l>
      <l n="2182">O Nurse, how shall this be preuented?</l>
      <l n="2183">My Husband is on earth, my faith in heauen,</l>
      <l n="2184">How shall that faith returne againe to earth,</l>
      <l n="2185">Vnlesse that Husband send it me from heauen,</l>
      <l n="2186">By leauing earth? Comfort me, counsaile me:</l>
      <l n="2187">Hlacke, alacke, that heauen should practise stratagems</l>
      <l n="2188">Vpon so soft a subiect as my selfe.</l>
      <l n="2189">What faist thou? hast thou not a word of ioy?</l>
      <l n="2190">Some comfort Nurse.</l>
   </sp>
   <cb n="2"/>
   <sp who="#F-rom-nur">
      <speaker rend="italic">Nur.</speaker>
      <l n="2191">Faith here it is,</l>
      <l n="2192">
         <hi rend="italic">Romeo</hi>is banished, and all the world to nothing,</l>
      <l n="2193">That he dares nere come backe to challenge you:</l>
      <l n="2194">Or if he do, it need must be by stealth.</l>
      <l n="2195">Then since the case so stands as now it doth,</l>
      <l n="2196">I thinke it best you married with the Countie,</l>
      <l n="2197">O hee's a Louely Gentleman:</l>
      <l n="2198">
         <hi rend="italic">Romeos</hi>a dish‑clout to him: an Eagle Madam</l>
      <l n="2199">Hath not so greene, so quicke, so faire an eye</l>
      <l n="2200">As<hi rend="italic">Paris</hi>hath, beshrow my very heart,</l>
      <l n="2201">I thinke you are happy in this second match,</l>
      <l n="2202">For it excels your first: or if it did not,</l>
      <l n="2203">Your first is dead, or 'twere as good he were,</l>
      <l n="2204">As liuing here and you no vse of him.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2205">Speakest thou from thy heart<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-nur">
      <speaker rend="italic">Nur.</speaker>
      <l n="2206">And from my soule too,</l>
      <l n="2207">Or else beshrew them both.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2208">Amen.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-nur">
      <speaker rend="italic">Nur.</speaker>
      <l n="2209">What?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2210">Well, thou hast comforted me marue'lous much,</l>
      <l n="2211">Go in, and tell my Lady I am gone,</l>
      <l n="2212">Hauing displeas'd my Father, to<hi rend="italic">Lawrence</hi>Cell,</l>
      <l n="2213">To make confession, and to be absolu'd.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-nur">
      <speaker rend="italic">Nur.</speaker>
      <l n="2214">Marrie I will, and this is wisely done.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-rom-jul">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iul.</speaker>
      <l n="2215">Auncient damnation, O most wicked fiend!</l>
      <l n="2216">It is more sin to wish me thus forsworne,</l>
      <l n="2217">Or to dispraise my Lord with that same tongue</l>
      <l n="2218">Which she hath prais'd him with aboue compare,</l>
      <l n="2219">So many thousand times? Go Counsellor,</l>
      <l n="2220">Thou and my bosome henchforth shall be twaine:</l>
      <l n="2221">Ile to the Frier to know his remedie,</l>
      <l n="2222">If all else faile, my selfe haue power to die.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
</div>

                                
                            

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