Juliet’s Soliloquy: Is It ‘When He Shall Die’ or ‘When I Shall Die’?

So I have a conundrum.

The very first edition of Romeo and Juliet I bought was from a Scholastic book fair, which had this version of the Act 3, Scene 2 soliloquy:

Juliet. Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun. (21-25).

So imagine my surprise when most other editions of R&J—if not all—I have bought or borrowed or consulted through the years had “when I shall die” rather than “when he shall die.” Including all the original quartos and folios save the bad quarto, which has only four lines of the speech.

At first I assumed that the Scholastic text was drawing from one of the earlier or even bad quartos—I’ve looked up all the other good quartos and folio editions of the time and they’ve all been consistent: The true Shakespearean is “when I shall die.” My copy was a cheap dollar-something from a school fair. No mystery, then. This Scholastic edition, however, edited by John E. Hankins, does follow the text of the Quarto 2 (1599)—the good quarto, in other words, and the basis for all the other editions including the Folio. That quarto definitely has “when I shall die.”

Also. The Scholastic edition is a reprint of the Pelican Shakespeare edition, which may have had its editor choose “when he shall die” instead of “when I shall die.” (If anyone knows/has the Pelican Shakespeare edition of R&J and can check, that’d be great).

If so, then at least (1) editor agrees what I’ve been mulling over and have long suspected: The original Shakespeare makes little sense in this context.

I mean, think about it. In the original Shakespearean, Juliet says that she wants the night to take Romeo, cut him up into little stars, and the beauty/ brightness of his essence will make the night even better than day…but when she, Juliet, dies/orgasms. (?)

There are two meanings working in tandem here: The literal sense of dying and the figurative (orgasm). Why would Juliet want Romeo to be cut into little stars and make the night even more beautiful than the day…when she is dead? There seems to be little connection between the two ideas.

Conversely, if orgasm is what is chiefly meant here, why would Romeo be the one to be the new-and-improved night sky? Would Juliet herself be more appropriate—the force of her orgasm making her the new night sky so bright no one would care about day anymore? That would make sense: That’s how hard she is going to get laid, yo!!! So why does she bring up Romeo at all if the focus of her soliloquy is on her sexual pleasure?

Well, it could be that 1) Juliet is linking her own mortality/pleasure with Romeo’s, assuming that if she dies/comes, Romeo is going to die/come even harder. So hard that he’d be the new night, yo. If so, then Shakespeare is not only buttressing the mutual, “two sides of the same coin” characterization for R&J he has carefully built in their love language, but making it explicit in a supremely meta way through Juliet. Even Juliet confuses herself and Romeo (canon!!!). This passage is also a callback to Romeo’s “would through the airy region stream so bright / That birds would sing and think it were not night,” so this is apropos.

Or 2) This is really a Hamlet “Thus diest thou” sort of thing and Shakespeare actually meant he and his sloppy secretary handwriting was consistently misread. Not likely, but so. He in this context would make the tragic ending foreshadowing much clearer, as well as flow more logically to the main idea: Romeo’s death/orgasm being the trigger to his becoming the new night in the afterlife. At least, that’s what I think is the rationale for an editor just arbitrarily deciding for he instead of Ifor no good (textual) reason.

For my part, I actually think I would prefer he. I think this choice would, paradoxically enough, emphasize Juliet’s focus on her sexual pleasure more as both subject and as object: After all, she would be the implicit cause of Romeo’s death/orgasm. (Plus the tragic death foreshadowing is much more evident here). “When I shall die,” though, may convey a denser, more complex poetic idea, even if it is initially more riddling, which would be typical of Shakespeare. It also canonizes my two-sides-of-the-same-coin theory regarding Shakespeare’s authorial intention, so…yay?

Juliet’s Soliloquy: Is It ‘When He Shall Die’ or ‘When I Shall Die’?

So I have a conundrum.

The very first edition of Romeo and Juliet I bought was from a Scholastic book fair, which had this version of the Act 3, Scene 2 soliloquy:

Juliet. Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun. (21-25).

So imagine my surprise when most other editions of R&J—if not all—I have bought or borrowed or consulted through the years had “when I shall die” rather than “when he shall die.” Including all the original quartos and folios save the bad quarto, which has only four lines of the speech.

At first I assumed that the Scholastic text was drawing from one of the earlier or even bad quartos—I’ve looked up all the other good quartos and folio editions of the time and they’ve all been consistent: The true Shakespearean is “when I shall die.” My copy was a cheap dollar-something from a school fair. No mystery, then. This Scholastic edition, however, edited by John E. Hankins, does follow the text of the Quarto 2 (1599)—the good quarto, in other words, and the basis for all the other editions including the Folio. That quarto definitely has “when I shall die.”

Also. The Scholastic edition is a reprint of the Pelican Shakespeare edition, which may have had its editor choose “when he shall die” instead of “when I shall die.” (If anyone knows/has the Pelican Shakespeare edition of R&J and can check, that’d be great).

If so, then at least (1) editor agrees what I’ve been mulling over and have long suspected: The original Shakespeare makes little sense in this context.

I mean, think about it. In the original Shakespearean, Juliet says that she wants the night to take Romeo, cut him up into little stars, and the beauty/ brightness of his essence will make the night even better than day…but when she, Juliet, dies/orgasms. (?)

There are two meanings working in tandem here: The literal sense of dying and the figurative (orgasm). Why would Juliet want Romeo to be cut into little stars and make the night even more beautiful than the day…when she is dead? There seems to be little connection between the two ideas.

Conversely, if orgasm is what is chiefly meant here, why would Romeo be the one to be the new-and-improved night sky? Would Juliet herself be more appropriate—the force of her orgasm making her the new night sky so bright no one would care about day anymore? That would make sense: That’s how hard she is going to get laid, yo!!! So why does she bring up Romeo at all if the focus of her soliloquy is on her sexual pleasure?

Well, it could be that 1) Juliet is linking her own mortality/pleasure with Romeo’s, assuming that if she dies/comes, Romeo is going to die/come even harder. So hard that he’d be the new night, yo. If so, then Shakespeare is not only buttressing the mutual, “two sides of the same coin” characterization for R&J he has carefully built in their love language, but making it explicit in a supremely meta way through Juliet. Even Juliet confuses herself and Romeo (canon!!!). This passage is also a callback to Romeo’s “would through the airy region stream so bright / That birds would sing and think it were not night,” so this is apropos.

Or 2) This is really a Hamlet “Thus diest thou” sort of thing and Shakespeare actually meant he and his sloppy secretary handwriting was consistently misread. Not likely, but so. He in this context would make the tragic ending foreshadowing much clearer, as well as flow more logically to the main idea: Romeo’s death/orgasm being the trigger to his becoming the new night in the afterlife. At least, that’s what I think is the rationale for an editor just arbitrarily deciding for he instead of Ifor no good (textual) reason.

For my part, I actually think I would prefer he. I think this choice would, paradoxically enough, emphasize Juliet’s focus on her sexual pleasure more as both subject and as object: After all, she would be the implicit cause of Romeo’s death/orgasm. (Plus the tragic death foreshadowing is much more evident here). “When I shall die,” though, may convey a denser, more complex poetic idea, even if it is initially more riddling, which would be typical of Shakespeare. It also canonizes my two-sides-of-the-same-coin theory regarding Shakespeare’s authorial intention, so…yay?

R&J (+ WSS, Oh God) Clown Takes Round ♾ + Part 8

Featuring a shiny new clown take of the Balcony Scene as a comedy skit and a truly terrible article on WSS that sounds like it was written by a high schooler who read a book on literary criticism, like, once. Spoilers of course

Infamous Balcony Scene

Two teens having crushes on each other and saying nice things to each other? Inherently triggering!!!! Something something heteronormative whiteness something something outdated gender roles. #GetWoke

Also…infamous.Infamous. Samuel Pepys, is that you?

Three interesting notes about this clown take.

1- Technically, yes, there is no mention of a balcony in the text, just “Juliet’s window.” But also, no one cares. Seriously, no one. It’s 200+-year-old fanon that has existed before you and I were even a twinkle in our great-grandparents’ eye. Shakespeare himself would probably give up and include it as elevated canon in his ShakespeareMore website. I won’t censure you if you call it anything else, but c’mon. C’mon.

2- Playwrights in the Elizabethan Era did not use Act or Scene markers/divisions in their scripts nor in performance, and neither did Shakespeare. That only began in the Jacobean era ~1600s when indoor theaters rose to prominence and candles were employed. As they needed time to re-light the candles after an hour, a curtain call was instituted. Shakespeare’s later plays in the Jacobean era thus had act and scene divisions. I wouldn’t put it past the Victorian editors to censor Shakespeare in this way out of prudishness, but it’s clownish to imply that Shakespeare meant for Mercutio’s scene and the Balcony scene to be one scene. He quite literally wrote plays as one whole scene. As for the choice in labeling the balcony scene Scene 2, it makes logical sense—after Mercutio and Benvolio both leave, the scene radically changes tone and subject.

3- Tag yourself, I’m “dominatrix date night dinner theater.” Seriously, what’s with this fanon of Juliet being aggressive???? She’s not! First Greer, then this one! Yes, she leads the balcony scene—as is typical, since she’s the one to decide to continue the flirtation and its development or stop it in its tracks. That is actually the traditional role of gender in romance—the woman is the gatekeeper, guarding her virtue and makes all the decisions while the man is usually the supplicant/suitor/wooer. On the other hand, Juliet is also in a very vulnerable position and clearly understands herself as such—hence her long monologue and anxiety as to Romeo’s intentions. This vacillation doesn’t even read as comic—it’s more about the *insert snapping fingers meme* tension, if you know what I mean.

“nO sUch tHING as A timEless classic!!1!”

THE WHITE ETHNIC CHARACTERS ARE ALSO GANG MEMBERS. That is literally the premise!!! Hell, the Jets are more characterized as a gang than the Sharks. Not only that, but the story has a basis in real life—literally ripped from the headlines. Puerto Rican gangs were definitely a thing!

As for hypersexual spitfires, that’s Anita. That is literally just Anita. And as she is a direct analogue of the bawdy Nurse from R&J, it’s straightforward adaptational mapping. Nothing to do with Latino stereotypes.

As for the Latinos who think WSS is racist…I’m willing to bet cold, hard cash only white (millennial) liberals think WSS is racist, period. Except, of course, for the ~Latinxers and Chicanos whose whole personality/shtick is that kind of shallow identity politics masquerading as actual criticism. It’s a hustle, after all. No judgment, but still.

This writer has never even heard the phrase “West Side Story was based on William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet” and it shows. Or that it even had the classical double-suicide (sort of) as its ending. The musical makes it painstakingly clear that Tony and Maria’s romance isn’t doomed because miscegenation bad—it’s doomed because of gang violence is bad (“Now I have hate!”). This reads like a high schooler who thinks tragic ending in play=they had it comin’.

Tfw your critique of homophobia is homophobic, ngl.

Considering that the original musical almost had the two sides be Catholic and Jewish gangs, the Shark side being the Puerto Rican means jack shit. Robbins et al. just rotated through various ethnic groups before finally settling on PRs and white ethnics in New York. They were certainly not salivating for a chance to have hot (non) Puerto Ricans on stage. Nor are Tony and Maria analogues to queer desire—at least, you’ll have to really twist canon a lot to come to that conclusion. But go ahead and fall into the trope of the predatory gay gaze, OP.

Also, it must be said that for their musical adaptation (really inspiration) of R&J, the gay and bi creators of WSS consistently shied away from the eroticism of Shakespeare’s original play, both at the musical and the dramatic level. They were much more concerned with the politics of inner-city fighting and critiquing American societal racism than the forbidden love story, which Sondheim bluntly stated they didn’t care for and marginalized almost to irrelevancy. WSS just doesn’t say anything about the nature of desire of any kind except the most basic—young love is powerful, love can trump ethnic division, etc.

You have never even heard of Shakespeare, classical music, ballet, or the words “You’re fine” from a doctor, OP. And it shows.

R&J (+ WSS, Oh God) Clown Takes Round ♾ + Part 8

Featuring a shiny new clown take of the Balcony Scene as a comedy skit and a truly terrible article on WSS that sounds like it was written by a high schooler who read a book on literary criticism, like, once. Spoilers of course

Infamous Balcony Scene

Two teens having crushes on each other and saying nice things to each other? Inherently triggering!!!! Something something heteronormative whiteness something something outdated gender roles. #GetWoke

Also…infamous.Infamous. Samuel Pepys, is that you?

Three interesting notes about this clown take.

1- Technically, yes, there is no mention of a balcony in the text, just “Juliet’s window.” But also, no one cares. Seriously, no one. It’s 200+-year-old fanon that has existed before you and I were even a twinkle in our great-grandparents’ eye. Shakespeare himself would probably give up and include it as elevated canon in his ShakespeareMore website. I won’t censure you if you call it anything else, but c’mon. C’mon.

2- Playwrights in the Elizabethan Era did not use Act or Scene markers/divisions in their scripts nor in performance, and neither did Shakespeare. That only began in the Jacobean era ~1600s when indoor theaters rose to prominence and candles were employed. As they needed time to re-light the candles after an hour, a curtain call was instituted. Shakespeare’s later plays in the Jacobean era thus had act and scene divisions. I wouldn’t put it past the Victorian editors to censor Shakespeare in this way out of prudishness, but it’s clownish to imply that Shakespeare meant for Mercutio’s scene and the Balcony scene to be one scene. He quite literally wrote plays as one whole scene. As for the choice in labeling the balcony scene Scene 2, it makes logical sense—after Mercutio and Benvolio both leave, the scene radically changes tone and subject.

3- Tag yourself, I’m “dominatrix date night dinner theater.” Seriously, what’s with this fanon of Juliet being aggressive???? She’s not! First Greer, then this one! Yes, she leads the balcony scene—as is typical, since she’s the one to decide to continue the flirtation and its development or stop it in its tracks. That is actually the traditional role of gender in romance—the woman is the gatekeeper, guarding her virtue and makes all the decisions while the man is usually the supplicant/suitor/wooer. On the other hand, Juliet is also in a very vulnerable position and clearly understands herself as such—hence her long monologue and anxiety as to Romeo’s intentions. This vacillation doesn’t even read as comic—it’s more about the *insert snapping fingers meme* tension, if you know what I mean.

“nO sUch tHING as A timEless classic!!1!”

THE WHITE ETHNIC CHARACTERS ARE ALSO GANG MEMBERS. That is literally the premise!!! Hell, the Jets are more characterized as a gang than the Sharks. Not only that, but the story has a basis in real life—literally ripped from the headlines. Puerto Rican gangs were definitely a thing!

As for hypersexual spitfires, that’s Anita. That is literally just Anita. And as she is a direct analogue of the bawdy Nurse from R&J, it’s straightforward adaptational mapping. Nothing to do with Latino stereotypes.

As for the Latinos who think WSS is racist…I’m willing to bet cold, hard cash only white (millennial) liberals think WSS is racist, period. Except, of course, for the ~Latinxers and Chicanos whose whole personality/shtick is that kind of shallow identity politics masquerading as actual criticism. It’s a hustle, after all. No judgment, but still.

This writer has never even heard the phrase “West Side Story was based on William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet” and it shows. Or that it even had the classical double-suicide (sort of) as its ending. The musical makes it painstakingly clear that Tony and Maria’s romance isn’t doomed because miscegenation bad—it’s doomed because of gang violence is bad (“Now I have hate!”). This reads like a high schooler who thinks tragic ending in play=they had it comin’.

Tfw your critique of homophobia is homophobic, ngl.

Considering that the original musical almost had the two sides be Catholic and Jewish gangs, the Shark side being the Puerto Rican means jack shit. Robbins et al. just rotated through various ethnic groups before finally settling on PRs and white ethnics in New York. They were certainly not salivating for a chance to have hot (non) Puerto Ricans on stage. Nor are Tony and Maria analogues to queer desire—at least, you’ll have to really twist canon a lot to come to that conclusion. But go ahead and fall into the trope of the predatory gay gaze, OP.

Also, it must be said that for their musical adaptation (really inspiration) of R&J, the gay and bi creators of WSS consistently shied away from the eroticism of Shakespeare’s original play, both at the musical and the dramatic level. They were much more concerned with the politics of inner-city fighting and critiquing American societal racism than the forbidden love story, which Sondheim bluntly stated they didn’t care for and marginalized almost to irrelevancy. WSS just doesn’t say anything about the nature of desire of any kind except the most basic—young love is powerful, love can trump ethnic division, etc.

You have never even heard of Shakespeare, classical music, ballet, or the words “You’re fine” from a doctor, OP. And it shows.

itspileofgoodthings:

Today I am thinking about the fact that when Romeo receives the news of Juliet’s death (“death”) he just shuts down. The words on the page almost seem cold and empty; they have none of his usual flair or fire. And you’re almost tempted to ask “does he even … care?” and then you realize that he can’t hold a thought in his head to its conclusion, that he can’t focus on one thing at a time, that he speaks in short fits and starts because he’s utterly wrapped in a dark fog of despair, the likes of which he’s never known before. He can’t be dramatic because he’s ALWAYS dramatic; this hits and hurts him so much more profoundly than anything he’s ever known and words are truly not enough to express the depths of his sorrow or despair. And so he clings to blind and violent action as his instant recourse.

And it’s masterful (and gutting) the way that Shakespeare turns his usual eloquence on its head like that and takes away his ability to put into words what he’s losing. It’s transformative, and not for the better or the more beautiful. In an awful way, Juliet’s death hardens Romeo instantly into a man not a boy: a man of action, violence, and despair. Grief alone has been able to transform him into the kind of man Verona and this feud have expected him and pressured and raised him to be: a man who’s only response is violence. He uses all his remaining wits and strength and purpose to go to her tomb. And there is something about his journey to her that is that of the bird flying home to its nest because there is still something about Romeo that is a boy (only the love twisting into grief in his heart) but there is also something about his journey that is that of a man running straight off a cliff into a pit of snakes, into the arms of violent destruction, because love itself has finally died and nothing else remains.

itspileofgoodthings:

Today I am thinking about the fact that when Romeo receives the news of Juliet’s death (“death”) he just shuts down. The words on the page almost seem cold and empty; they have none of his usual flair or fire. And you’re almost tempted to ask “does he even … care?” and then you realize that he can’t hold a thought in his head to its conclusion, that he can’t focus on one thing at a time, that he speaks in short fits and starts because he’s utterly wrapped in a dark fog of despair, the likes of which he’s never known before. He can’t be dramatic because he’s ALWAYS dramatic; this hits and hurts him so much more profoundly than anything he’s ever known and words are truly not enough to express the depths of his sorrow or despair. And so he clings to blind and violent action as his instant recourse.

And it’s masterful (and gutting) the way that Shakespeare turns his usual eloquence on its head like that and takes away his ability to put into words what he’s losing. It’s transformative, and not for the better or the more beautiful. In an awful way, Juliet’s death hardens Romeo instantly into a man not a boy: a man of action, violence, and despair. Grief alone has been able to transform him into the kind of man Verona and this feud have expected him and pressured and raised him to be: a man who’s only response is violence. He uses all his remaining wits and strength and purpose to go to her tomb. And there is something about his journey to her that is that of the bird flying home to its nest because there is still something about Romeo that is a boy (only the love twisting into grief in his heart) but there is also something about his journey that is that of a man running straight off a cliff into a pit of snakes, into the arms of violent destruction, because love itself has finally died and nothing else remains.