scarcely a line is left untouched. A comparison of title-pages in the two editions is amusing and at the same time instructive. In 1597 it reads: "An Excellent Conceited Tragedie of Romeo and Juliet as it hath been often (with great applause) plaid publiquely." In 1609 this is toned down to "The most Excellent and Lamentable Tragedie of Romeo and Juliet as it hath been sundri times publiquely Acted." The omission of the parenthetic ("with great applause") is significant. The poet knows he no longer needs meretricious advertisement. The scene as we have it in our modern books is very similar to
Shakespeare's Revised Version (Third Quarto, 1609).
Rom. I do remember an apothecary
And hereabouts he dwells—whom late I noted
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples; meager were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuff'd, and other skins,
Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said—
An if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.
O, this same thought did but fore-run my need;
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember this should be the house;
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut—
What ho! Apothecary!
Ap. Who calls so loud?
Rom. Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor;
Hold, there is forty ducats; let me have
A dram of poison; such soon speeding gear
