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                    The Tragicall hiſtory

   The prince could neuer cauſe

         thoſe houſholds ſo agree,

But that ſome ſparcles of their wrath,

         as yet remaining bee.

   Which lye this whi^leraakd vp,

         in aſhes pale and ded,

Till tyme do ſerue that they agayne

         in waſting flame may ſpred.

   At holieſt times men ſay

         moſt heynous crimes are donne,

The morowe after Eaſter day

         the miſchiefe new begonne.

   A band of Capilets

         did meete(my hart it rewes)

Within the walles by Purſers gate,

         a band of Montagewes.

   The Capilets as cheefe,

         a yong man haue choſe out:

Beſt exerciſd in feates of armes,

         and nobleſt of the rowte.

   Our Iuliets vnkles ſonne

         that cliped was Tibalt:

He was of body tall and ſtrong,

         and of his courage halt.

   They neede no trumpet ſounde

         to byd them geue the charge,

So lowde he cryde with ftrayned voyce

            and mouth out ſtretched large.

   Now, now, (quod he) my frends,

         our ſelfe ſo let vs wreake,

That of this dayes reuenge, and vs,

         our childrens heyres may ſpeake.

   Now once for all let vs

         their ſwelling pride aſſwage,

Let none of them eſcape aliue,

         then he with furious rage

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   And they with him gaue charge,

         vpon they preſent foes,

And then forthwith a ſkyrmiſhe great

         vpon this fray aroſe.

   For loe, the Montagewes

         thought ſhame away to flye,

And rather then to liue with ſhame,

         with prayſe did chooſe to dye.

   The woordes that  Tybalt vſd

         to ſtyrre his folke to yre,

Haue in the breſtes of  Montegewes

         kindled a furious fyre.

   With Lyons hartes they fight,

         warely themſelfe defende:

To wound his foe, his preſent wit

         and force eche one doth bend.

   This furious fray is long,

         on eche ſide ſtoutly fought,

That whether part had got the woorſt

         full doutfull were the thought.

   The noyſe hereof anon,

         throughout the towne doth flye:

And partes are taken on euery ſide.

         both kinreds thether hye.

   Here one doth gaſpe for breth,

         his frend beſtrideth him,

And he hath loſt a hand, and he

         another maymed lim.

   His leg is cutte whilſt he

         ſtrikes at an other full:

And whō he would haue thruſt quite through

         hath cleft his cracked ſkull.

   Theyr valiant harts forbode

         theyr foote to geue the grounde,

With vnappauled cheere they tooke

         full deepe and doutfull wounde.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory

   Thus foote by foote long while,

         and ſhield to ſhield ſet faſt:

One foe doth make another faynt

         but makes him not agaſt.

   And whilſt this noyſe is ryfe

         in euery townes mans eare,

Eke walking with his frendes, the noyſe

         doth wofull Romeus heare.

   With ſpedy foote he ronnes

         vnto the fray apace:

With him thoſe fewe that were with him

         he leadeth to the place.

   They pittie much to ſee

         the ſlaughter made ſo greate:

That wetſhod they might ſtand in blood

         on eyther ſide the ſtreate.

   Part frendes(ſayd he)part frendes,

         helpe frendes to part the fray:

And to the reſt, enough (he cryes)

         now time it is to ſtaye.

   Gods farther wrath you ſtyrre,

         beſide the hurt you feele:

And with this new vprore confounde

         all this our common wele.

   But they ſo buſy are

         in fight ſo egar and feerce,

That through theyr eares his ſage aduiſe

         no leyſure had to pearce.

   Then lept he in the throng,

         to part, and barre the blowes,

As well of thoſe that were his frendes:

         as of his dedly foes.

   As ſoone as Tybalt had

         our Romeus eſpyde:

He threw a thruſt at him that would

         haue paſt from ſide to ſide.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   But Romeus euer went

          (douting his foes) well armde:

So that the ſwerd (kept out by mayle)

         hath nothing Romeus harmde.

   Thou doeſt me wrong (quoth he)

         for I but part the fraye,

Not dread,but other waighty cauſe

         my haſty hand doth ſtay.

   Thou art the cheefe of thine,

         the nobleſt eke thou art:

Wherfore leaue of thy malice now,

         and helpe theſe folke to parte.

   Many are hurt, ſome ſlayne,

         and ſome are like to dye.

No, coward traytor boy (ȹ he)

         ſtraight way I mynd to trye

   Whether thy ſugred talke,

         and tong ſo ſmootely fylde:

Againſt the force of this my ſwerd

         ſhall ſerue thee for a ſhylde.

   And then at Romeus hed,

         a blow he ſtrake ſo hard,

That might haue cloue him to the brayne

         but for his cunning ward.

   It was but lent to him

         that could repay agayne:

And geue him death for intereſt,

         a well forborne gayne.

   Right as a foreſt bore,

         that lodged in the thicke,

Pinched with dog,or els with ſpeare

         ypricked to the quicke:

   His briſtles ſtiffe vpright

         vpon his backe doth ſet,

And in his fomy mouth, his ſharp

         and crooked tuſkes doth whet.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory

   Or as a Lyon wylde

         that rampeth in his rage,

His whelpes bereft,whoſe fury  can

         no weaker beaſt aſſwage.

   Such ſeemed Romeus,

         in euery others ſight:

When he him ſhope,of wrong receaude

         tauenge himſelfe by fight.

   Euen as two thunderboltes,

         throwne downe out of the ſkye,

That through the ayre the maſſy earth

         and ſeas haue power to flye:

   So met theſe two,and while

         they chaunge a blowe or twayne,

Our Romeus thruſt him through the throte

         and ſo is Tybalt ſlayne.

   Loe here the ende of thoſe

         that ſtyrre a dedly ſtryfe:

Who thyrſteth after others death,

         himſelfe hath loſt his life.

   The Capilets are quaylde,

         by Tybalts  ouerthrowe:

The courage of the  Mountagewes,

         by Romeus ſight doth growe,

   The townes men waren ſtrong,

         the prince doth ſend his force:

The fray hath end,the Capilets

         do bring the brethles corce,

   Before the prince:and craue,

         that cruell dedly payne

May be the guerdon of  his falt,

         that hath their kinſman ſlaine.

   The Montagewes  do pleade,

         theyr Romeus  voyde of falt:

The lookers on do ſay,the fight

         begonne was by  Tybalt.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   The prince doth pawſe, and then

         geues ſentence in a while,

That Romeus, for ſleying him

         ſhould gone into exyle.

   His foes would haue him hangde,

         or ſterue in priſon ſtrong:

His frendes do think (but dare not ſay)

         that Romeus hath wrong.

   Both houſholds ſtraight are charged

         on payne of loſing lyfe:

Theyr bloudy weapons layd aſide,

         to ceaſe the ſtyrred ſtryfe.

   This common plage is ſpred,

         through all the towne anon:

From ſide to ſyde the towne is fild

         with murmour and with mone.

   For Tybalts haſty death,

         bewayled was of ſomme,

Both for his ſkill in feates of armes,

         and for in time to comme:

   He ſhould (had this not chaunced)

         been riche, and of great powre:

To helpe his frendes, and ſerue the ſtate,

         which hope within an howre

   Was waſted quite, and he

         thus yelding vp his breath,

More then he holpe the towne in lyfe,

         hath harmde it by his death.

   And other ſomme bewayle,

          (but ladies moſt of all)

The lookeles lot by Fortunes gylt,

         that is ſo late befall,

   (Without his falt, ) vnto

         the ſeely Romeus,

For whilſt that he from natife land

         ſhall liue exyled thus.

                    The Tragicall Hiſtory.

   From heauenly bewties light,

         and his welſhaped parts:

The ſight of which, was wont(faire dames)

         to glad your youthfull harts.

   Shall you be baniſhd quite:

         and tyll he do retoorne

What hope haue you to ioy?

         what hope to ceaſe to moorne?

   This Romeus was borne

         ſo much in heauens grace

Of Fortune,and of nature ſo

         beloued,that in his face

   (Beſide the heauenly bew=

         ty gliſtring ay ſo bright:

And ſeemely grace, that wonted ſo

         to glad the ſeers ſight.)

   A certain charme was graued

         by natures ſecret arte:

That vertue had to draw to it,

         the loue of many a hart.

   So euery one doth wiſh,

         to beare a part of payne:

That he releaſed of exyle,

         might ſtraight retorne agayne.

   But how doth moorne emong

         the moorners Iuliet?

How doth ſhe bathe her breſt in teares?

         what depe ſighes doth ſhe fet?

   How doth ſhe tear her heare?

         her weede how doth ſhe rent?

How fares the louer hearing of

         her louers baniſhment?

   How wayles ſhe Tibalts death,

         whom ſhe had loued ſo well?

Her hearty greefe and piteous plaint,

         cunning I want to tell

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   For deluing depely now

         in depth of depe diſpayre:

With wretched ſorowes cruell ſound

         ſhe fils the empty ayre.

   And to the loweſt hell,

         downe falles her heauy crye,

And vp vnto the heauens haight

         her piteous plaint doth flye.

   The waters and the woods,

         of ſighes and ſobs reſounde:

And from the hard reſounding rockes

         her ſorowes do rebounde.

   Eke from her teary eyne,

         downe rayned many a ſhowre:

That in the garden where ſhe walkd

         might water herbe and flowre.

   But when at length ſhe ſaw

         her ſelfe outraged ſo:

Vnto her chaumber ſtraight ſhe hide

         there ouercharged with wo.

   Vpon her ſtately bed,

         her painfull parts ſhe threw:

And in ſo wondrous wiſe began

         her ſorowes to renewe:

   That ſure no hart ſo hard,

          (but it of flint had byn: )

But would haue rude the pitious plaint

         that ſhe did languiſhe in.

   Then rapt out of her ſelfe,

         whilſt ſhe on euery ſide

Did caſt her reſtles eye,at length

         the windowe ſhe eſpide,

   Through which ſhe had with ioy

         ſeene Romeus many a time:

Which oft the ventrous knight was wont

         For Iuliets ſake toclyme.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   She cryde O curſed windowe,

         a curſt be euery pane,

Through which(alas)to one I raught

         the cauſe of life and bane.

   If by thy meane I haue

         ſome ſlight delight receaued,

Or els ſuch fading pleaſure as

         by Fortune ſtraight was reaued:

   Haſt thou not made me pay

         a tribute rigorous?

Of heaped greefe,and laſting care:

         and ſorowes dolorous?

   That theſe my tender partes,

         which nedefull ſtrength do lacke,

To beare ſo great vnweldy lode?

         vpon ſo weake a backe:

   Oppreſt with waight of cares

         and with theſe ſorowes rife:

At length muſt open wide to death,

         the gates of lothed lyfe.

   That ſo my wery ſprite,

         may ſomme where els vnlode

His dedly lode,  and free from thrall

         may ſeeke els where abrode:

   For pleaſant quiet eaſe,

         and for aſſured reſt,

Which I as yet could neuer finde,

         but for my more vnreſt.

   O Romeus,when firſt

         we both acquainted were,

When to thy paynted promiſes

         I lent my liſtning eare:

   Which to the brinkes you fild

         with many a ſolemne othe,

And I them iudgde empty of gyle,

         and fraughted full of troth:

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   I thought you rather would

         continue our  good will,

And ſeeke tappeaſe our fathers ſtrife

         which daily groweth ſtill.

   I little wend you would

         haue ſought  occaſion how

By ſuch an heynous act to breake

         the peace,and eke your vowe

   Wherby your bright renoune,

         all whole yclipſed is,

And I vnhappy huſbandles,

         of cumfort robde, and bliſſe.

   But if you did ſo much

         the blood of Capels thyrſt,

Why haue you often ſpared mine?

         myne might haue quencht it firſt.

   Since that ſo many times,

         and in ſo ſecret place

(Where you were wont with vele of loue

         to hyde your hatreds face.)

   My doutfull lyfe hath hapt

         by fatall dome to ſtand,

In mercy of your cruell hart,

         and of your bloudy hand.

   What? ſeemd the conqueſt which

         you got of me,ſo ſmall?

What?ſeemd it not enough that I

         poore wretch, was made your thrall?

   But that you muſt increaſe

         it with that kinſmans blood,

Which for his woorth and loue to me

         moſt in my fauour ſtood?

   Well,goe hencefoorth els where,

         and ſeeke another whyle,

Some other aſ vnhappy as I,

         by flattry to begyle.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   And where I comme, ſee that

         you ſhonne to ſhew your face:

For your excuſe within my hart

         ſhall finde no reſting place.

   And I that now too late

         my former fault repent:

Will ſo the reſt of wery life

         with many teares lament:

   That ſoone my ioyceles corps,

         ſhall yeld vp baniſhd breath,

And where on earth it reſtles liued,

         in earth ſeeke reſt by death.

   Theſe ſayde,her tender hart,

         by payne oppreſſed ſore:

Reſtraynd her teares, and forced her tong

         to keepe her talke in ſtore.

   And then as ſtill ſhe was,

         as if in ſownd ſhe lay:

And then agayne, wroth with her ſelfe,

         with feble  voyce gan  ſay.

   Ah cruell murthering tong,

         murthrer  of others  fame:

How durſt thou once attempt to tooch

         the honor of his name?

   Whoſe dedly foes doe yelde

         him dewe and earned prayſe:

For though his fredome be bereft,

         his honor not decayes.

   Why blamſt thou  Romeus

         for ſleying of  Tybalt,

Since he is gyltles guite of all,

         and Tybalt beares the falt?

   Whether ſhall he(alas)

         poore baniſhd man now flye?

What place of ſuccor ſhall he ſeeke

         beneth the ſtarry ſkye?

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   Synce ſhe purſueth him,

         and him defames by wrong:

That in diſtres ſhould be his fort,

         and onely rampier ſtrong.

   Receiue the recompence,

         O Romeus of thy wife:

Who for ſhe was vnkind her ſelfe,

         doth offer vp her lyfe.

   In flames of yre, in ſighes,

         in ſorow and  in ruth:

So to reuenge the crime ſhe did

         commit againſt thy  truth.

   Theſe ſaid, ſhe could no more,

         her ſenſes all gan fayle:

And dedly panges began ſtraight way

         her tender hart  aſſayle.

   Her limmes ſhe ſtretched forth,

         ſhe drew no more her  breath,

Who had been there, might well haue ſeene

         the ſigness of preſent death.

   The nurce that knew no cauſe,

         why ſhe abſented  her,

Did doute leſt that ſome ſodain greefe

         too much tormented her.

   Eche where but where ſhe was

         the carefull  Beldam ſought,

Laſt,of the chamber where ſhe lay,

         ſhe haply her bethought.

   Where ſhe with piteous eye,

         her nurce childe did beholde:

Her limmes ſtretched out,her vtward parts

         as any marble colde.

   The nurce ſuppoſde that ſhe

         had payde to death her det:

And then as ſhe had loſt her wittes,

         ſhe cryed to Iuliet.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory

   Ah my dere hart (quoth ſhe)

         how greeueth me thy death?

Alas what cauſe haſt thou thus ſoone,

         to yelde vp liuing breath?

   But while ſhe handled her,

         and chafed euery part,

She knew there was ſome ſparke of life

         by beating of her hart.

   So that a thouſand times

         ſhe cald vpon her name,

There is no way to helpe a traunce,

         but ſhe hath tryde the ſame.

   She openeth wide her mouth,

         ſhe ſtoppeth  cloſe  her noſe,

She bendeth downe her breſt, ſhe wringes

         her fingers and her toes.

   And on her boſome colde,

         ſhe layeth clothes hot,

A warmed and a holeſome iuyce

         ſhe powreth downe her throte.

   At length doth Iuliet,

         heaue fayntly vp her eyes,

And then ſhe ſtretcheth forth her arme,

         and then her nurce ſhe ſpyes.

   But when ſhe was awakde,

         from her vnkindly traunce:

Why doſt thou trouble me(quoth ſhe)

         what draue thee(with miſchaunce)

   To come to ſee my ſprite,

         forſake my brethles corce?

Goe hence, and let me dye, if thou

         haue on my ſmart remorſe.

   For who would ſee her frend

         to liue in dedly payne?

Alas,I ſee my greefe begoone,

         for euer will remayne.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   Or who would ſeeke to liue,

         all pleaſure being paſt?

My myrth is donne,my moorning mone

         for ay is like to laſt.

   Wherfore ſince that there is

         none other remedy,

Comme gentle death,and ryue my hart,

         at once,and let my dye.

   The nurce with tricling teares,

         to witnes inward ſmart,

With holow ſigh fetchd from the depth,

         of her appauled hart.

   Thus ſpake to Iuliet,

         yclad with ougly care.

Good lady myne, I  do not know

         what makes you thus to fare.

   Ne yet the cauſe of your

         vnmeaſurde heauines.

But of this one I you aſſure,

         for care and ſorowes ſtreſſe,

   This hower large and more,

         I thought(ſo god me ſaue)

That my dead corps ſhould wayte on yours,

         to your vntimely graue.

   Alas my tender nurce,

         and truſty frend(quoth ſhe)

Art thou ſo blinde, that with thine eye,

         thou canſt not eaſely ſee

   The lawfull cauſe I haue,

         to ſorow and to moorne,

Since thoſe the which I hyld moſt deere

         I haue at once forlorne?

   Her nurce then aunſwerd thus.

         Me thinkes it ſits you yll,

To fall in theſe extremities

         that may you gyltles ſpill.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   For when the ſtormes of care,

         and troubles do aryſe,

Then is the time for men to know,

         the fooliſh from the wiſe.

   You are accounted wiſe,

         a foole am I your nurce:

But I ſee not how in like caſe

         I could be haue me wurſe.

   Tibalt your frend is ded,

         what weene you by your teares,

To call him backe againe? thinke you

         that he your crying heares?

   You ſhall perceue the falt,

          (if it be iuſtly tryde)

Of his ſo ſodayn death, was in

         his raſhnes and his pryde.

   Would you that Romeus,

         him ſelfe had wronged ſo,

To ſuffer himſelfe cauſeles to be

         outraged of his foe?

   To whom in no reſpect,

         he ought a place to geue?

Let it ſuffiſe to thee fayre dame,

         that Romeus doth liue.

   And that there is good hope

         that he within a while,

With greater glory ſhalbe calde

         home from his hard exile.

   How wel yborne he is,

         thy ſelfe I know canſt tell:

By kindred ſtrong, and well alyed,

         of all beloued well.

   With patience arme thy ſelfe,

         for though that Fortunes cryme

Without your falt,to both your greefes

         depart you for a time.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   I dare ſay for amendes

         of all your preſent payne

She will reſtore your owne to you,

         within a month or twayne.

   With ſuch contented eaſe,

         as neuer erſt you had:

Wherfore reioyce a while in hope,

         and be ne more ſo ſad.

   And that I may diſcharge

         your hart of heauy care:

A certaine way I haue found out,

         my paynes ne will I ſpare.

   To learne his preſent ſtate,

         and what in time to comme

He mindes to doe,which knowne by me,

         you ſhall know all and ſomme.

   But that I dread the whilſt

         your ſorowes will you quell,

Straight would I hye where he doth lurke

         to frier Lawrence cell.

   But if you gyn eftſones

          (as erſt you did) to moorre

Wherto goe I,you will be ded

         before I thence retoorne.

   So I ſhall ſpend in waſt,

         my time,and buſy payne,

So vnto you(your life once loſt)

         good aunſwere commes in vayne.

   Soſhall I ridde my ſelfe

         with this ſharpe pointed knife:

So ſhall you cauſe your parents derre

         wax wery of theyr life.

   So ſhall your Romeus,

          (deſpyſing liuely breath,)

With haſty foote(before his tyme)

         ronne to vntimely death.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory

   Where if you can a while,

         by reaſon,rage ſuppreſſe,

I hope at my retorne to bring

         the ſalue of your diſtreſſe.

   Now chooſe to haue me here

         a partner of your payne,

Or promoſſe me,to feede on hope,

         till I retorne agayne.

   Her miſtres ſendes her forth,

         and makes a graue beheſt,

With reaſons rayne to rule the thoughts

         that rage within her breſt.

   When hugy beapes of harmes,

         are heapd before her eyes,

Then vaniſh they by hope of ſcape,

         and thus the lady lyes,

   Twixt well aſſured truſt.

         and doutfull lewd diſpayre,

Now blacke and ougly be her thoughts:

         now ſeeme they white and fayre.

   As oft in ſummer tide,

         blacke cloudes do dimme the ſonne,

And ſtraight againe in cleareſt ſkye

         his reſtles ſteedes do ronne,

   So Iuliets wandring mynd

         yclowded is with woe,

And by and by her haſty thought

         the woes doth ouergoe.

   But now is time to tell

         whilſt ſhe was toſſed thus

What windes did driue or hauen did hold

         her louer,louer Romeus

   When he had ſlayne his foe,

         that gan this dedly ſtrife,

And ſaw the furious fray had ende,

         by ending Tybalts life:

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   He fled the ſharpe reuenge

         of thoſe that yet did liue,

And douting much what penall doome

         the troubled prince myght gyue,

   He ſought ſome where vnſeene,

         to lurke a little ſpace,

And truſty Lawrence ſecret cell,

         he thought the ſureſt place.

   In doutfull happe ay beſt,

         a truſty frend is tride,

The frendly fryer in this diſtreſſe,

         doth graunt his frend to hyde.

   A ſecret place he hath,

         well ſeeled round about,

The mouth of which, ſo cloſe is ſhut,

         that none may finde it out.

   Both roome there is to walke,

         and place to ſitte and reſt,

Beſide,a bed to ſleape vpon,

         full ſoft and trimly dreſt.

   The flowre is planked ſo

         with mattes, it is ſo warme.

That neither wind, nor ſmoky damps

         haue powre him ought to harme.

   Where he was wont in youth,

         his fayre frendes to beſtowe,

There now he hydeth Romeus

         whilſt forth he goeth to knowe

   Both what is ſayd and donne,

         and what  appoynted payne,

Is publiſhed by trumpets ſound.

         then home he hyes agayne.

   By this, vnto his cell,

         the nurce with ſpedy pace:

Was comme the nereſt way: ſhe ſought,

         no ydel reſting place.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   The fryer ſent home the newes

         of Romeus certain helth:

And promeſſe made(what ſo befell)

         he ſhould that night by ſtelth

   Comme to his wonted place

         that they in nedefull wiſe

Of theyr affayres in time to comme,

         might thorowly deuyſe.

   Thoſe ioyfull newes, the nurce

         brought home with mery ioy:

And now our Iuliet ioyes, to thinke,

         ſhe ſhall her loue enioye.

   The fryer ſhuts faſt his doore,

         and then to him beneth.

That waytes to heare the doutefull newes

         of lyfe orels of death:

   Thy hap quoth he, is good,

         daunger of death is none:

But thou ſhalt liue, and doe full well,

         in ſpite of ſpitefull fone.

   This onely payne for thee

         was erſt proclaymde aloude,

A baniſhd man,thou mayſt thee not

         within Verona ſhroude.

   Theſe heauy tydinge heard,

         his golden lockes he tare:

And like a frantike man hath torne

         the garmentes that he ware.

   And as the ſmitten deere,

         in brakes is waltring found:

So waltreth he,and with his breſt

         doth beate the troden grounde.

   He riſeth eft,and ſtrikes

         his head againſt the wals,

He falleth downe againe,and lowde

         for haſty death he cals.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   Come ſpedy death (quoth he)

         the readieſt leache in loue,

Since nought can els beneth the ſunne

         the ground of griefe remoue.

   Of lothſome life breake downe

         the hated ſtaggering ſtayes,

Deſtroy, deſtroy at once the lyfe

         that faintly yet decayes.

   But you(fayre dame)in whome

         dame nature dyd deuiſe,:

With cunning hand to woorke, that might

         ſeeme wondrous in our eyes:

   For you I pray the Gods,

         your pleaſures to increaſe,

And all miſhap, with this my death,

         for euermore to ceaſe.

   And mighty Ioue with ſpeede,

         of iuſtice bring them lowe,

Whoſe lofty pryde (without our gylt)

         our bliſſe doth ouerblowe.

   And Cupide graunt to thoſe

         theyr ſpedy wrongs redreſſe,

That ſhall bewayle my cruell death,

         and pity her diſtreſſe.

   Therewith,a cloude of ſighes,

         he breathd into the ſkies:

And two great ſtreames of bitter teares,

         ran from his ſwollen eyes.

   Theſe thinges, the auncient fryre,

         with ſorow ſaw,and heard,

Of ſuch begynning eke,the ende,

         the wiſe man greatly feard.

   But loe, he was ſo weake,

         by reaſon of his age,

That he ne could by force, repreſſe

         the rigour of his rage.

                    The Tragicall Hiſtory.

   His wiſe and frendly  woordes,

         he ſpeaketh to the ayre:

For Romeus ſo vexed is,

         with care and with diſpayre,

   That no aduiſe can perce,

         his cloſe forſtopped eares:

So now the fryer doth take his part,

         in ſhedding ruthfull teares.

   With colour pale,and wan,

         with armes full hard yfold,

With wofull cheere,his wayling frend,

         he ſtandeth to beholde.

   And then,our Romeus.

         with tender handes ywrong:

With voyce, with plaint made horce, w^t ſobs,

         and with a foltring tong.

   Renewd with nouel mone

         the dolours of his hart,

His outward dreery cheere bewrayde,

         his ſtore of inward ſmart.

   Fyrſt,nature did he blame,

         the author of his lyfe,

In which his ioyes had been ſo ſcant,

         and ſorowes aye ſo ryfe:

   The time and place of byrth,

         he fierſly did reproue,

He cryed out(with open mouth)

         againſt the ſtarres aboue:

   The fatall ſiſters three,

         he ſaid,had done him wrong,

The threed that ſhould not haue been ſponne

         they had drawne foorth too long.

   He wiſhed that he had

         before this time been borne,

Or that as ſoone as he wan light,

         his life he had forlorne.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   His nurce he curſed, and

         the hand that gaue him pappe,

The midwife eke with tender grype

         that held him in her lappe:

   And then did he complaine,

         on Venus cruel ſonne

Who led him firſt vnto the rockes,

         which he ſhould warely ſhonne.

   By meane wheros he loſt,

         both lyfe and libertie,

And dyed a hundred times a day,

         and yet could neuer dye.

   Loues troubles laſten long,

         the ioyes he geues are ſhort:

He forceth not a louers payne,

         theyr erneſt is his ſport.

   A thouſand thinges and more,

         I here let paſſe to write,

Which vnto loue this wofull man,

         dyd ſpeake in great deſpite.

   On Fortune eke he raylde,

         he calde her deafe,and blynde,

Vinconſtant,fond,deceitfull raſhe,

         vnruthfull,and vnkynd.

   And to him ſelf he layd

         a great part of the falt:

For that he ſlewe, and was not ſlayne,

         in fighting with Tibalt.

   He blamed all the world,

         and all he did defye

But Iuliet,for whom he liued,

         for whom eke would he dye.

   When after raging fits,

         appeaſed was his rage,

And when his paſſions(powred forth)

         gan partly to aſſwage.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   So wiſely did the fryre,

         vnto his tale replye,

That he ſtraight cared for his life,

         that erſt had care to dye.

   Art thou quoth he a man?

         Thy ſhape ſaith ſo thou art:

Thy crying and thy weping eyes,

         denote a womans hart.

   For manly reaſon is

         quite from of thy mynd outchaſed,

And in her ſtead affections lewd,

         and fanſies highly placed.

   So that,I ſtoode in doute

         this howre (at the leaſt)

If thou a man,or woman wert,

         or els a brutiſh beaſt.

   A wiſe man in the midſt

         of troubles and diſtres,

Still ſtandes not wayling preſent harme,

         but ſeeks his harmes redres,

   As when the winter flawes,

         with dredfull noyſe ariſe,

And heaue the fomy ſwelling waues

         vp to the ſtarry ſkies,

   So that the brooſed barke

         in cruell ſeas betoſt,

Diſpayreth of the happy hauen

         in daunger to be loſt.

   The pylate bold at helme,

         cryes,mates ſtrike now your ſayle:

And tornes her ſtemme into the waues

         that ſtrongly her aſſayle.

   Then driuen hard vpon

         the bare and wrackfull ſhore,

In greater daunger to be wract,

         then he had been before.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   He ſeeth his ſhip full right

         againſt the rocke to ronne,

But yet he dooth what lyeth in him

         the perilous rocke to ſhonne

   Sometimes the beaten boate,

         by cunning gouernment,

The ancors loſt,the cables broke,

         and all the tackle ſpent.

   The roder ſmitten of,

         and ouer boord the maſt,

Doth win the long deſyred porte,

         the ſtormy daunger paſt.

    But if the maſter dread,

         and ouerpreſt with woe,

Begin to wring his handes, and lets

         the gyding rodder goe

   The ſhip rents on the rocke,

         or ſinketh in the deepe,

And eke the coward drenched is,

         So:if thou ſtill be weepe

   And ſeke not how to helpe

         the chaunges that do chaunce,

Thy cauſe of ſorow ſhall increaſe,

         thou cauſe of thy miſchaunce.

   Other account thee wiſe,

         prooue not thy ſelfe a foole,

Now put in practiſe leſſons learnd,

         of old in wiſdomes ſchoole,

   The wiſe man ſaith, beware

         thou double not thy payne:

For one perhaps thou mayſt abyde,

         but hardly ſuffer twayne.

   As well we ought to ſeeke

         thinges hurtfull to decreaſe,

As to endeuor helping thinges

         by ſtudy to increaſe.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   The prayſe of trew fredom,

         in wiſdomes bondage lyes

He winneth blame whoſe deedes be fonde,

         although his woords be wiſe.

   Sickenes the bodies gayle,

         greefe,gayle is of the mynd,

If thou canſt ſcape from heauy greefe,

         true fredome ſhalt thou finde.

   Fortune can fill nothing,

         ſo full of hearty greefe,

But in the ſame a conſtant mynd,

         Finds ſolace and releefe,

Vertue is alwayes thrall,

         to troubles and annoye,

   But wiſdome in aduerſitie,

         findes cauſe of quiet ioye.

And they moſt wretched are,

         that know no wretchednes:

   And afther great  extremity,

         miſhaps ay waxen leſſe.

Like as there is no weale,

         but waſtes away ſomtime,

   So euery kind of wayled woe,

         will weare away in time.

If thou wilt maſter quite,

         the troubles that the ſpill,

   Endeuor firſt by reaſons help,

         to maſter witles will.

A ſondry medſon hath,

         eche ſondry faynt diſeaſe,

   But pacience,a common ſalue,

         to euery wound geues eaſe.

The world is alway full

         of chaunces and of chaunge,

   Wherfore the chaunge of chaunce muſt not

         ſeeme to a wiſe man ſtraunge.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

For tickel Fortune doth,

         in chaunging but her kind:

   But all her chaunges cannot chaunge,

         a ſteady conſtant minde.

Though wauering Fortune toorne

         from thee her ſmyling face,

   And ſorow ſeeke to ſet him ſelfe,

         in baniſhd pleaſures place,

Yet may thy marred ſtate,

         be mended in a while,

   And ſhe eftſones that frowneth now,

         with pleaſant cheere ſhall ſmyle.

For as her happy ſtate,

         no long whyle ſtandeth ſure,

   Euen ſo the heauy plight ſhe brings,

         not alwayes doth endure.

What nede ſo many woordes,

         to thee that art ſo wyſe?

   Thou better canſt aduiſe thy ſelfe,

         then I can thee aduyſe.

Wiſdome I ſee is vayne,

         if thus in time of neede,

   A wiſe mans wit vnpractiſed,

         doth ſtand him in no ſteede.

I know thou haſt ſome cauſe,

         of ſorow and of care:

   But well I wot thou haſt no cauſe

         thus frantikly to fare.

Affections foggy miſt,

         thy febled ſight doth blynde,

   But if that reaſons beames agayne,

         might ſhine into thy mynde:

If thou wouldſt view thy ſtate

         with an indifferent eye,

I thinke thou wouldſt condemne thy plaint,

         thy ſighing  and thy  crye.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   With valiant hand thou madeſt

         thy foe yeld vp his breth,

Thou haſt eſcapd his ſwerd, and eke

         the lawes that threatten death.

   By thy eſcape,thy frendes,

         are fraughted full of ioy,

And by his death thy deadly  foes

         are laden with annoy

   Wilt thou with truſty  frendes,

         of pleaſure  take  ſome part?

Or els to pleaſe thy hatefull foes,

         be partner of theyr ſmart?

   Why cryeſt thou out  on loue,

         why doeſt thou blame thy fate?

Why doſt thou ſo crye after death?

         thy life why doſt thou hate?

   Doſt thou  repent the choyce.

         that thou ſo late didſt chooſe?

Loue is thy Lord, thou oughteſt obay,

         and not thy prince accuſe.

   For thou haſt found(thou knowſt)

         great fauour in his ſight:

He graunted  thee  at thy  requeſt,

         thy onely hartes delight:

   So that the Gods enuyde

         the bliſſe thou liuedst in,

To geue to ſuch vnthankefull men,

         is folly and a ſin.

   Me thinkes  I heare thee ſay

         the cruell baniſhment,

Iſ onely cauſe of thy vnreſt,

         onely thou doſt lament,

   That from thy  natife  land,

         and frendes thou muſt depart,

Enforſd to flye from her that hath

         the keping  of  thy  hart.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   And ſo oppreſt with waight

         of ſmart that thou doſt feele,

Thou doſt complaine of Cupides brand,

         and Fortunes turning wheele.

   Vnto a valiant hart,

         there is no baniſhment,

All countreys are his natiue ſoyle

         beneath the firmament.

   As to the fiſhe,the ſea:

         as to the fowle, the ayre:

So iſ like pleaſant to the wiſe,

         eche place of his repayre.

   Though froward  Fortune chaſe

         thee hence into exyle:

With doubled honor ſhall ſhe call

         thee home within a whyle.

   Admyt thou ſhouldſt abyde

         abrode a yere or twayne:

Should ſo ſhort abſence cauſe ſo long,

         and eke ſo greeuous payne?

   Though thou ne mayſt thy frendes,

         here in Verona ſee,

They are not baniſhd Mantua,

         where ſafely thou maſt be.

   Thether they may reſort,

         though thou reſort not hether,

And there in ſuretie may you talke,

         of your affayres together.

   Yea, but this whyle (alas)

         thy Iuliet muſt thou miſſe,

The onely piller of thy helth,

         and ancor of thy bliſſe.

   Thy hart thou leaueſt with her,

         when thou doſt hence depart:

And in thy breſt incloſed bearſt,

         her tender frendly hart.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory

   But if thou rew ſo much,

         to leaue the reſt behinde,

With thought of paſſed ioyes, content

         thy vncontented mynde.

   So ſhall the mone decreaſe,

         wherwith thy mynd doth melt,

Compared to the heauenly ioyes

         which thou haſt often felt.

   He is too nyſe a weakeling,

         that ſhrinketh at a ſhowre,

And he vnworthy of the  ſweete,

         that taſteth not the ſowre.

    Call now againe to mynde,

         thy  firſt conſuming flame,

How didſt thou vainely burne in loue

         of an vnlouing dame.

   Hadſt thou not welnigh wept,

         quite out thy ſwelling eyne:

Did not thy parts fordoon with payne,

         languiſhe away and pyne?

   Thoſe greefes and others like,

         were happly ouerpaſt:

And thou in haight of  Fortunes wheele,

         well placed at the laſt:

    From whence thou art now falne,

         that rayſed vp agayne,

With greater ioy a  greater while

         in pleaſure mayſt thou raygne.

    Compare the preſent  while,

         with times ypaſt before,

And thinke that Fortune hath for thee,

         great pleaſure yet in ſtore.

   The whilſt,this little wrong,

         receiue thou paciently,

And what of force muſt nedes be done,

         that doe thou willingly.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   Foly it is to feare

         that thou canſt not auoyde

And madnes to deſire it much,

         that can not be enioyde.

   To geue to Fortune place,

         not ay deſerueth blame:

But ſkill it is, according to

         the times,thy ſelfe to frame.

   Whilſt to this ſkilfull lore;

         he lent his liſtning eares:

His ſighes are ſtopt,and ſtopped are

         the conduits of his teares.

   As blackeſt cloudes are chaced,

         by winters nimble winde:

So haue his reaſons chaced care,

         out of his carefull mynde.

   As of a morning fowle,

         enſues an euening fayre:

So baniſht hope returneth home,

         to baniſh his deſpayre.

   Now is affections veale,

         remoued from his eyes.

He ſeeth the path that he muſt walke,

         and reſon makes him wiſe.

   For very ſhame, the blood

         doth flaſhe in both his cheekes:

He thankes the father for his lore,

         and farther ayde he ſeekes.

   He ſayth that ſkilles youth,

         for counſell is vnfitte,

And anger oft with haſtines

         are ioind to want of witte.

   But ſound aduiſe aboundes

         in heddes with horiſhe heares:

For wiſdom is by practiſe wonne,

         and perfect made by yeares.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory

   But aye from this time forth,

         his ready bending will:

Shalbe in awe, and gouerned,

         by fryer Lawrence ſkill.

   The gouernor is nowe,

         right carefull of his charge:

To whom he doth wiſely diſcoorſe,

         of his affaires at large.

   He telles him how he ſhall,

         depart the towne vnknowne,

Both mindfull of his frendes ſafetie,

         and carefull of his owne.

   How he ſhall gyde him ſelfe,

         how he ſhall ſeeke to winne,

The frendſhip of the better ſort,

         how warely to crepe in

   The fauour of the Mantuan prince:

         and how he may

Appeaſe the wrath of Eſcalus:

         and wipe the fault away.

   The choller of his foes,

         by gentle meanes taſſwage:

Or els by force and practiſes,

         to bridle quite theyr rage.

   And laſt he chargeth him,

         at his appointed howre,

To goe with manly mery cheere,

         vnto his ladies bowre.

   And there with hole ſome woordes,

         to ſalue her ſorowes ſmart:

And to reuiue,(if nede require,

         her faint and dying hart.

   The old mans woords haue fild

         with ioy,our Romeus breſt:

And eke the olde wiues talke, hath ſet

         our Iuliets  hart at reſt.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   Whereto may I compare,

          (O louers)this your day?

Like dayes the painefull mariners,

         are woonted to aſſay.

   For beat with tempeſt great,

         when they at length, eſpye

Some little beame of Phoebus light,

         that perceth through the ſkie,

   To cleare the ſhadowde earth,

         by clearenes of his face:

They hope that dreadles, they ſhall ronne

         the remnant of their race.

   Yea, they aſſure them ſelfe:

         and quite behynd theyr backe,

They caſt all doute, and thanke the Gods

         for ſcraping of the wracke.

   But ſtraight the boyſterous windes,

         with greater fury blowe,

And ouer boord the broken maſt.

         the ſtormy blaſtes doe throwe.

   The heauens large,are clad

         with cloudes,as darke as hell:

And twiſe aſ hye,the ſtriuing waues

         begin to roare, and ſwell.

   With greater daungers dred,

         the men are vexed more:

In greater perill of their lyfe,

         then they had been before.

   The golden ſonne, was gonne

         to lodge him in the weſt:

The full moone eke in yonder ſouth,

         had ſent moſt men to reſt:

   When reſtles Romeus,

         and reſtles Iuliet,

In woonted ſort,by woonted meane,

         in Iuliets chaumber met.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory

   And from the windowes top,

         downe had he leaped ſcarce,

When ſhe with armes outſtretched wide,

         ſo hard did him embrace,

   That welnigh had the ſprite

          (not forced by dedly force)

Flowne vnto death,before the time

         abandoning the corce.

   Thus muet ſtoode they both,

         the eight part of an howre

And both would ſpeake, but neither had

         of ſpeaking any powre.

   But on his breſt her hed

         doth ioyleſſe Iuliet lay,

And on her ſlender necke,his chyn

         doth ruthfull Romeus ſtay.

   Their ſcalding ſighes aſcende,

         and by their cheekes dowue fall,

Their trickling teares,as chriſtall cleare,

         but bitterer farre then gall.

   Then he to end the greefe,

         which both they liued in,

Did kyſſe his loue,and wiſely thus

         hys tale he dyd begin.

   My Iuliet, my loue,

         my onely hope and care:

To you I purpoſe not as now,

         with length of woords declare,

   The diuerſenes,and eke

         the accidents ſo ſtraunge,

Of frayle vnconſtant Fortune, that

         delyteth ſtill in chaunge.

   Who in a moment heaues

         her frendes vp to the height,

Of her ſwift turning ſlippery wheele,

         then fleetes her frendſhip ſtraight,

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   O wondrous chaunge, euen with

         the twinkling of an eye,

Whom erſt her ſelfe had raſhly ſet,

         in pleaſant place ſo hye?

   The ſame in great deſpyte,

         downe hedlong doth ſhe throwe:

And while ſhe treades and ſpurneth at

         the lofty ſtate laid lowe,

   More ſorow doth ſhe ſhape

         within an howers ſpace,

Then pleaſure in an hundred yeres:

         ſo geyſon is her grace.

   The proofe wherof in me

          (alas)too plaine apperes,

Whom tenderly my carefull frendes

         haue foſtered with my feers,

   In proſperous high degree:

         mayntayned ſo by fate,

That(as your ſelfe did ſee)my foes

         enuyde my noble ſtate.

   One thing there was, I did

         aboue the reſt deſire,

To which, as to the ſoueraigne good,

         by hope I would aſpyre:

   Thol by our mariage meane,

         we might within a while,

(To woorke our perfect happines)

         our parentes reconſile.

   That ſafely ſo we might

          (not ſtopt by ſturdy ſtrife)

Vnto the boundes that God hath ſet,

         gyde forth our pleaſant lyfe.

   But now(alacke)too ſoone

         my bliſſe is ouerblowne,

And vpſide downe my purpoſe and

         my enterpriſe are throwne,

                    The Tragicall hiſtory

   And driuen from my frendes,

         of ſtraungers muſt I craue,

(O graunt it God)from daungersdread,

         that I may ſuertie haue.

   For loe,henceforth  I muſt,

         wander in landes vnknowne:

(ſo hard I finde the princes doome,)

         exyled from mine owne.

   Which thing I haue thought good,

         to ſet before your eyes:

And to exhort you,now to proue

         your ſelfe a woman wiſe.

   That paciently, you beare

         my abſent long abod.

For, what aboue by fatall doomes

         decreed is that God,

   And more then this, to ſay

         it ſeemed he was bent,

But Iuliet,in dedly greefe,

         with brackiſh teares beſprent,

   Brake  of his tale begonne,

         and whilſt his ſpeche he ſtayde,

Theſe ſelfe ſame wordes,or like to theſe,

         with dreery chere ſhe ſayde.

   Why  Romeus,can it be,

         thou haſt ſo hard a hart?

So farre remoued from ruth?ſo farre

         from thinking on my  ſmart?

   To leaue me thus alone?

          (thou cauſe of my diſtreſſe)

Beſeged with ſo great a campe,

         of mortall wretchedneſſe,

   That euery hower now,

         and moment in a day,

A thouſand times, death bragges, as he

         would reaue my life away.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   Yet ſuch is my miſhap,

          (O cruell deſtenye)

That ſtill I liue, and wiſh for death,

         but yet can neuer dye.

   So that iuſt cauſe I haue,

         to thinke (as ſeemeth me)

That froward Fortune did of late,

         with cruell death agree

   To lengthen lothed life,

         to pleaſure in my payne,

And tryumph in my harme, as in

         the greateſt hoped gayne.

   And thou the inſtrument

         of Fortunes cruell will,

Without whoſe ayde ſhe can no way,

         her tyrans luſt fulfill:

   Art not a whit aſhamde,

          (as farre as I can ſee)

To caſt me of, when thou haſt culd

         the better part of me.

   Wherby (alas) to ſoone,

         I ſeely wretch do proue,

That all the auncient ſacred lawes,

         of frendſhip and of loue,

   Are quelde and quenched quite.

         ſince he on whom alway,

My cheefe hope,and my ſteady truſt,

         was wonted ſtill to ſtay,

   For whom  I  am becomme,

         vnto my ſelfe a foe:

Diſdayneth me his ſtedfaſt frend,

         and ſcornes my frendſhip ſo.

   Nay Romeus,nay,thou mayſt

         of two thinges chooſe the one:

Either to ſee thy caſtaway

         as ſoone as thou art gone,

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   Hedlong to throw her ſelfe

         downe from the windowes haight,

And ſo to breake her ſlender necke,

         with all the bodies waight.

   Or ſuffer her to be

         companion of thy payne,

Where ſo thou goe (Fortune thee gyde)

         till thou retoorne agayne.

   So wholy into thine,

         tranſformed is my hart,

That euen as oft as I do thinke

         that thou and I ſhall part:

   So oft(me thinkes)my life

         withdrawes it ſelfe awaye,

Which I retayne, to no end els,

         but to the end I may

   In ſpite of all thy foes,

         thy preſent partes enioye,

And in diſtres to beare with thee,

         the halfe of thine annoye.

   Wherfore in humble ſort

          ( Romeus )I make requeſt,

If euer tender pity yet,

         were lodgde in gentle breſt,

   O let it now haue place,

         to reſt within thy hart,

Receaue me as thy ſeruant, and

         the fellow of thy ſmart.

   Thy abſence is my death,

         thy ſight ſhall geue me life.

But if perhaps thou ſtand in dred,

         to leade me as a wyfe,

   Art thou all counſelleſſe,

         canſt thou no ſhift deuiſe?

What letteth,but in other weede

         I may my ſelfe diſguyſe.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   What,ſhall I he the firſt?

         hath none done ſo ere this?

To ſcape the bondage of theyr frendes?

         thy ſelfe can aunſwer yes.

   Or doſt thou ſtand in doute,

         that I thy wife ne can,

By ſeruice pleaſure thee as much,

         as may thy hyred man?

   Or iſ my loyalte

         of both accompted leſſe?

Perhaps thou fearſt leſt I for gayne,

         forſake thee in diſtreſſe.

   What,hath my bewty now,

         no powre at all on you?

Whoſe brightnes, force, and praiſe ſomtime,

         vp to the ſkyes you blew?

   My teares, my frendſhip, and

         my pleaſures donne of olde:

Shall they be quite forgote in dede?

         when Romeus dyd behold

   The wildnes of her looke,

         her cooler pale and ded,

The woorſt of all that might betyde

         to her,he gan to dred.

   And once agayne he dyd

         in armes his Iuliet take:

And kiſt her with a louing kyſſe,

         And thus to her he ſpake.

   Ah Iuliet(quoth he)

         the miſtres of my hart,

For whom(euen now)thy ſeruant doth

         abyde in dedly ſmart,

   Euen for the happy dayes

         which thou deſyreſt to ſee,

And for the feruent frendſhips ſake

         that thou doſt owe to me:

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   At once theſe fanſies vayne,

         out of thy mynd roote out,

Except perhaps vnto thy blame,

         thou fondly go about

   To haſten forth my death,

         and to thine owne to ronne:

Which Natures law, and wiſdoms lore

         teache euery wight to ſhonne.

   For,but thou chaunge thy mynde,

          (I do foretell the ende)

Thou ſhalt vndoo thy ſelfe for ay,

         and me thy truſty frende.

   For why,thy abſence knowne,

         thy father wilbe wroth,

And in his rage,ſo narowly

         he will purſue vs both:

   That we ſhall trye in vayne,

         to ſcape away by flight,

And vainely ſeeke a loorking place,

         to hyde vs from his ſight.

   Then we found out,and caught,

         quite voyde of ſtrong defence

Shall cruelly be puniſhed,

         for thy departure hence.

   I,as a rauiſhor,

         thou,as a careles childe,

I,as a man who doth defile,

         thou,as a mayde defilde.

   Thinking to leade in eaſe,

         a long contented life,

Shall ſhort our dayes by ſhamefull death.

         but(if my louing wife)

   Thou baniſh from thy mynde,

         two foes that counſell hath:

(That wont to hinder ſound aduiſe)

         raſhe haſtines,and wrath:

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   If thou be bend to bay

         the lore of reaſons ſkill,

And wiſely by her princely powre

         ſuppreſſe rebelling will:

   If thou our ſafetie ſeeke,

         more then thine owne delight,

Since ſuerty ſtandes in parting, and

         thy pleaſures growe of ſight:

   For heare the cauſe of ioy,

         and ſuffer for a while,

So ſhall I ſafely liue abrode,

         and ſafe torne from exile.

   So ſhall no ſlaunders blot,

         thy ſpotles life deſtayne,

So ſhall thy kinſmen be vnſtyrd,

         and I exempt from payne.

   And thinke thou not that aye,

         the cauſe of care ſhall laſt,

Theſe ſtormy broyles ſhall ouerblow,

         much like a winters blaſt.

   For Fortune chaungeth more,

         then fickel fantaſie,

In nothing Fortune conſtant is,

         ſaue in vnconſtancie.

   Her haſty ronning wheele,

         is of a reſtles coorſe,

That turnes the clymers hedlong downe,

         from better to the woorſe.

   And thoſe that are beneth,

         ſhe heaueth vp agayne,

So we ſhall riſe to pleaſures mount,

         out of the pit of payne.

   Ere fowre monthes ouerpaſſe,

         ſuch order will I take,

And by my letters, and my frendes,

         ſuch meanes I mynd to make,

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   That of my wandring race,

         ended ſhalbe the toyle,

And I cald home with honor great,

         vnto my natiue ſoyle.

   But if I be condemd

         to wander ſtill in thrall,

I will returne to you(mine owne)

         befall what may befall.

   And then by ſtrength of frendes,

         and with a mighty hand,

From Verone will I cary thee,

         into a forein lande.

   Not in mans weede diſguiſd,

         or as one ſcarcely knowne,

But as my wife and onely feere,

         in garment of thyne owne.

   Wherfore repreſſe at once,

         the paſſions of thy hart,

And where there is no cauſe of greefe,

         cauſe hope to heale thy ſmart.

   For of this one thing thou

         mayſt well aſſured bee:

That nothing els but onely death

         ſhall ſunder me from thee.

   The reaſons that he made,

         did ſeeme of ſo great waight,

And had with her ſuch force:that ſhe

         to him gan aunſwer ſtraight.

   Deere ſyr,nought els wiſh I,

         but to obay your will:

But ſure where ſo you go, your hart

         with me ſhall tary ſtill,

   Aſ ſigne and certaine pledge,

         tyll here I ſhall you ſee:

Of all the powre that ouer you

         your ſelfe did graunt to me.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   And in hip ſtead take myne,

         the gage of my good will:

One promeſſe craue I at your hand,

         that graunt me to fulfill.

   Fayle not to let me haue

         at fryer Lawrence hand,

The tydinges of your health, and how

         your doutfull caſe ſhall ſtand.

   And all the wery while

         that you ſhall ſpend abrode:

Cauſe me from time to time to knowe

         the place of your abode.

   His eyes did guſhe out teares,

         a ſigh brake from his breſt,

When he did graunt,and with an othe

         did vowe to kepe the heſt.

   Thus theſe two louers paſſe

         away the wery night,

In payne and plaint,not(as they wont)

         in pleaſure and delight.

    But now(ſomewhat too ſoone)

         in fartheſt Eaſt aroſe

Fayre Lucifer,the golden ſtarre,

         that Lady Venus choſe.

   Whoſe courſe appoynted is,

         with ſpedy race to ronne,

A meſſenger of dawning daye,

         and of the ryſing ſonne.

   Then freſhe Aurora, with

         her paie and ſiluer glade

Did clear the ſkyes,and from the earth,

         had chaſed ougly ſhade.

   When thou ne lookeſt wide,

         ne cloſely doſt thou winke,

When Phoebus from our hemyſphere,

         in weſterne waue doth ſinke.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   What cooller then the heauens

         do ſhew vnto thine eyes:

The ſame,(or like)ſaw Romeus

         in fartheſt Eſterne ſkyes.

   As yet, he ſaw no day:

         ne could he call it night,

With equall force,decreaſing darke,

         fought with increaſing light.

   Then Romeus in armes

         his lady gan to folde,

With frendly kiſſe and ruthfully

         ſhe gan her knight beholde.

   With ſolemne othe they both

         theyr ſorowfull leaue do take,

They ſweare no ſtormy troubles ſhall

         theyr ſteady frendſhip ſhake.

  Then carefull Romeus,

         agayne to cell retoornes,

And in her chamber ſecretly

         our ioyles Iuliet moornes.

   Now hugycloudes of care,

         of ſorow and of dread,

The clearnes of their gladſome harts

         hath wholy ouerſpread.

   When golden creſted Phoebus

         boſteth him in ſkye,

And vnder earth,to ſcape reuenge,

         his dedly foe doth flye:

   Then hath theſe louers day

         an ende,their night begonne,

For eche of them to other is,

         as to the world,the ſunne.

   The dawning they ſhall ſee,

         ne ſommer any more,

But blackfaced night with winter rough,

          (ah)beaten ouer ſore.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   The wery watch diſcharged,

         did hye them home to ſlepe,

The warders,and the ſkowtes were chargde

         theyr place and coorſe to keepe.

   And Verone gates a wyde,

         the porters had ſet open,

When Romeus had of his affayres

         with frier Lawrence ſpoken:

   Warely he walked forth,

         vnknowne of frend or foe:

Clad like a merchant venterer,

         from top euen to the toe.

   He ſpurd apace and came

         withouten ſtop or ſtay,

To Mantua gates,where lighted downe,

         he ſent his man away.

   With woords of comfort,to

         his olde afflicted fyre:

And ſtraight in mynd to ſoiorne there,

         a lodgeing doth he hyre.

   And with the nobler ſort

         he doth himſelfe acquaint,

And of his open wrong receaued,

         the Duke doth heare his plaint.

   He practiſeth by frendes,

         for pardon of exyle,

The whilſt,he ſeeketh euery way,

         his ſorowes to begyle.

   But who forgets the cole

         that burneth in his breſt?

Alas his cares,denye his hart,

         the ſweete deſyred reſt.

   No time findes he of myrth,

         he findes no place of ioye,

But euery thing occaſion geues,

         of ſorow and annoye.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory

   For when in toorning ſkyes,

         the heauens lampes are light,

And from the other hemyſphere,

         fayre Phoebus chaceth night,

   When euery man and beaſt,

         hath reſt from painfull toyle,

Then in the breſt of Romeus,

         his paſſions gyn to boyle.

   Then doth he wet with teares,

         the cowche wheron he lyes,

And then his ſighes the chamber fill,

         and out aloude he cryes

   Againſt the reſtles ſtarres,

         in rolling ſkyes that raunge,

Againſt the fatall ſiſters three,

         and Fortune full of chaunge.

   Eche night a thouſand times

         he calleth for the day,

He thinketh Titans reſtles ſtedes,

         of reſtines do ſtay.

   Or that at length they haue

         ſome bayting place found out,

Or(gyded yll)haue loſt theyr way

         and wandred farre about.

   Whyle thus in ydel thoughts,

         the wery time he ſpendeth,

The night hath end,but not with night

         the plaint of night be endeth.

   Is he accompanied,

         is he in place alone?

In cumpany he wayles his harme,

         a part be maketh mone.

   For if his feeres reioyce,

         what cauſe hath he to ioy,

That wanteth ſtill his cheefe delight,

         while they theyr loues enioy?

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   But if with heauy cheere,

         they ſhewe their inward greefe,

He wayleth moſt his wretchednes,

         that is of wretches cheefe.

   When he doth heare abrode,

         the praiſe of ladies blowne.

Within his thought he ſcorneth them

         and doth preferre his owne.

   When pleaſant ſonges he beares

         When others do reioyce

The melody of Muſike doth

         ſtyrre vp his mourning voyce.

   But if in ſecret place

         he walke ſome where alone,

The place it ſelfe, and ſecretnes

         redoubleth all his mone.

   Then ſpeakes he to the beaſtes

         to fethered fowles, and trees,

Vnto the earth,the cloudes, and to

         what ſo beſide he ſees.

   To them he ſhewth his ſmart,

         as though they reaſon had,

Eche thing may cauſe his heauines,

         but nought may make him glad.

   And(wery of the day)

         agayne he calleth night,

The ſunne he curſeth,and the howre,

         when fyrſt his eyes ſaw light.

   And as the night, and day,

         their courſe do enterchaunge:

So doth our Romeus nightly cares,

         for cares of day exchaunge.

   In abſence of her knight,

         the lady no way could

Kepe trewe betwene her greefes and her,

         though nere ſo fayne ſhe would.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   And though with greater payne

         ſhe cloked ſorowes ſmart:

Yet did her paled face diſcloſe

         the paſſions of her hart.

   Her ſighing euery howre,

         her weping euery where,

Her recheles heede of meate,of ſlepe,

         and wearing of her geare:

   The carefull mother markes.

         then of her health afrayde,

Becauſe the greefes increaſed ſtill.

         thus to her child ſhe ſayde.

   Deere daughter,if you ſhoulde

         long languiſhe in this ſort,

I ſtand in doute that ouer ſoone

         your ſorowes will make ſhort

   Your louing fathers life,

         and myne,that loue you more

Then our owne propre breth, and life.

         Brydel hence forth therfore

   Your greefe,and payne your ſelfe

         on ioy your thought to ſet,

For time it iſ that now you ſhould

         our Tybalts death forget.

   Of whom,ſince God hath claymd

         the lyfe,that was but lent,

He is in bliſſe,ne is there cauſe

         why you ſhould thus lament?

   You can not call him backe

         with teares,and ſhrikinges ſhrill:

It is a falt thus ſtill to grudge

         at Gods appoynted will.

   The ſeely ſoule had now

         no longer powre to fayne,

Ne longer could ſhe hyde her harme:

         but aunſwerd thus agayne.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   With heauy broken ſighes,

         with viſage pale and ded

Madame,the laſt of Tybalts teares,

         a great while ſince I ſhed.

   Whoſe ſpring hath been ere this

         ſo laded out by me,

That empty quite,and moyſtureles,

         I geſſe it now to be.

   So that my payned hart

         by canduites of the eyne,

No more henceforth(as wont it was)

         ſhall guſh forth dropping bryne.

   The wofull mother knew

         not, what her daughter ment,

And loth to vexe her childe by woordes,

         her peace ſhe warely hent.

   But when from howre to howre,

         from morow to the morow,

Still more and more ſhe ſaw increaſt

         her daughters wonted ſorow.

   All meanes ſhe ſought of her,

         and howſhold folke, to know

The certaine roote, whereon her greefe,

         and booteles mone doth growe.

   But lo,ſhe hath in vayne,

         her time,and labor lore,

Wherfore without all meaſure, is

         her hart tormented ſore.

   And ſith her ſelfe could not

         fynd out the cauſe of care:

She thought it good to tell the ſyre,

         how yll his childe did fare.

   And when ſhe ſaw her time,

         thus to her feere ſhe ſayde:

Syr, if you marke our daughter well,

         the countenance of the mayde,

                    The Tragicall hiſtory

   And how ſhe fareth,ſince

         that Tybalt vnto death,

(Before his time, forſt by his foe)

         dyd yeld his liuing breath.

   Her face ſhall ſeeme ſo chaunged,

         her doynges eke ſo ſtraunge,

That you will greatly wonder at,

         ſo great and ſodain chaunge.

   Not onely ſhe forbeares,

         her meate,her drinke,and ſleepe,

But now ſhe tendeth nothing els

         but to lament and weepe.

   No greater ioy hath ſhe,

         nothing contentes her hart

So much,as in her chaumber, cloſe

         to ſhut her ſelfe apart.

   Where ſhe doth ſo torment

         her poore afflicted mynde,

That much in daunger ſtandeſ her lyfe,

         except ſomme helpe we fynde.

   But (out alas) I ſee not

         how it may be founde:

Vnleſſe that fyrſt,we might fynd, whence

         her ſorowes thus abounde.

   For though with buſy care,

         I haue employde my wit,

And vſed all the wayes I knew,

         to learne the truth of it:

   Neither extremitie,

         ne gentle meanes could boote.

She hydeth cloſe within her breſt,

         her ſecret ſorowes roote.

   This was my fyrſt conceite,

         that all her ruth aroſe

Out of her coofin Tybaltſ death,

         late ſlayne of dedly foes.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   But now my hart doth hold

         a new repugnant thought,

Some greater thing,not Tybalts death

         this chaunge in her hath wrought.

   Her selfe aſſured me,

         that many dayes a goe,

She ſhed the laſt of Tybalts teares,

         which woord amaſd me ſo,

   That I then could not geſſe

         what thing els might her greeue,

But now at length I haue bethought

         me. And I doe beleue

   The onely crop and roote

         of all my daughters payne,

Is grudgeing enuies faynt diſeaſe,

         perhaps ſhe doth diſdayne

   To ſee in wedlocke yoke

         the moſt part of her feeres,

Whilſt onely ſhe vnmaried,

         doth loſe ſo many yeres.

   And more perchaunce ſhe thinkes

         you mynd to kepe her ſo,

Wherfore diſpayring doth ſhe weare

         her ſelfe away with woe.

   Therfore(deere ſyr)in time,

         take on your daughter ruth,

For why,a brickel thing is glaſſe,

         and frayle is fraylleſſe youth.

   Ioyne her at once to ſomme,

         in linke of mariage,

That may be meete for our degree,

         and much about her age.

   So ſhall you baniſh care

         out of your daughterſ breſt:

So we her parentes in our age,

         ſhall liue in quiet reſt.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   Wherto gan eaſely

         her huſband to agree,

And to the mothers ſkilfull talke,

         thus ſtraight way aunſwerd he.

   Oft haue I thought (deere wife)

         of all theſe thinges ere this,

But euermore my mynd me gaue,

         it ſhould not be amiſſe,

   By farther leyſure had,

         a huſband to prouyde,

Scarce ſaw ſhe yet full.xvi. yeres:

         too yong to be a bryde.

   But ſince her ſtate doth ſtande

         on termes ſo perilous,

And that a mayden daughter is

         a treaſour daungerous:

   With ſo great ſpeede I will

         endeuour to procure

A huſband for our daughter yong,

         her ſickenes faynt to cure.

   That you ſhall reſt content,

          (ſo warely will I chooſe)

And ſhe recouer ſoone enough

         the time ſhe ſeemeſ to looſe.

   The whilſt, ſeeke you to learne,

         if ſhe in any part,

Already hath(vnware to vs)

         fixed her frendly hart.

   Leſt we haue more reſpect

         to honor and to welth,

Then to our doughters quiet life,

         and to her happy helth.

   Whom I do hold as deere,

         as thapple of myne eye,

And rather with in poore eſtate,

         and daughterles to dye:

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   Then leaue my goodes and her

         ythrald to ſuch a one,

Whoſe chorliſh dealing(I once dead)

         ſhould be her cauſe of mone.

   This pleaſant aunſwere heard,

         the lady partes agayne.

And Capilet the maydens ſire,

         within a day or twayne,

   Conferreth with his frendes,

         for mariage of his daughter,

And many gentlemen there were,

         with buſy care that ſought her.

   Both for the mayden was

         well ſhaped, yong, and fayre,

As alſo well brought vp, and wiſe,

         her fathers onely heyre.

   Emong the reſt was one

         inflamde with her deſire,

Who,County Paris cliped was,

         an Earle he had to ſyre.

   Of all the ſuters,him

         the father liketh beſt,

And eaſely vnto the Earle

         he maketh hiſ beheſt.

   Both of his owne good will,

         and of his frendly ayde,

To win his wife vnto his will,

         and to perſwade the mayde.

   The wife did ioy to heare

         the ioyfull huſband ſay,

How happy hap,how meete a match,

         he had found out that day.

   Ne did ſhe ſeeke to hyde

         her ioyes within her hart,

But ſtraight ſhe hyeth to Iuliet,

         to her ſhe telles apart,

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   What happy talke (by meane

         of her)was paſt no rather

Betwene the woing Paris, and

         her carefull louing father.

   The perſon of the man,

         the fewters of his face,

His youthfull yeres, his fayrenes, and

         his port and ſemely grace.

   With curious wordes ſhe payntes

         before her daughters eyes,

And then with ſtore of vertues prayſe,

         ſhe heaues him to the ſkyes.

   She vauntes his race,and gyftes,

         that Fortune did him geue:

Wherby(ſhe ſaith)both ſhe and hers,

         in great delight ſhall liue.

   When Iuliet conceiued

         her parentes whole entent,

Wherto, both loue,and reaſons right,

         forbod her to aſſent:

   Within her ſelfe ſhe thought,

         rather then be forſworne,

With horſes wilde,her tender partes

         a ſonder ſhould be torne.

   Not now with baſhfull brow

          (in wonted wiſe)ſhe ſpake,

But with vnwonted boldnes, ſtraight

         into theſe woordes ſhe brake.

   Madame,I  maruell much,

         that you ſo lauaſſe are,

Of me your childe,(your iewel once,

         your onely ioy and care.)

   As thus to yelde me vp,

         at pleaſure of another,

Before you know if I doe like,

         or els miſlike my louer.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   Doo what you liſt, but yet

         of this aſſure you ſtill,

If you do as you ſay you will,

         I yelde not there vntill.

   For had I choyſe of twayne,

         farre rather would I chooſe,

My part of all your goodes,and eke

         my breath and lyfe to loſe:

   Then graunt that he poſſeſſe

         of me the ſmalleſt part.

Firſt, weary of my painefull life,

         my cares ſhall kill my hart.

   Els will I perce my breſt,

         with ſharpe and bloody knife,

And you my mother ſhall becomme

         the murdreſſe of my life:

   In geuing me to him,

         whom I ne can ne may,

Ne ought to loue. Wherfore on knees,

         deere mother I you pray

   To let me liue henceforth,

         as I haue liued tofore:

Ceaſſe all your troubles for my ſake,

         and care for me no more.

   But ſuffer Fortune feerce,

         to worke on me her will,

In her it lyeth to doe me boote,

         in her it lyeth to ſpill.

   For whilſt you for the beſt,

         deſyre to place me ſo,

You haſt a way my lingring death,

         and double all my woe.

   So deepe this aunſwere made

         the ſorowes downe to ſinke,

Into the mothers breſt:that ſhe

         ne knoweth what to thinke.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   Of theſe her daughters woords.

         but all appalde ſhe ſtandes,

And vp vnto the heauens ſhe throwes

         her wondring head and handes.

   And nigh beſyde her ſelfe

         her huſband hath ſhe ſought,

She telles him all,ſhe doth forget

         ne yet ſhe hydeth ought.

   The teſty old man wroth,

         diſdainfull without meaſure,

Sendes forth his folke in haſte for her.

         and byds them take no leyſure.

   Ne on her teares or plaint,

         at all to haue remorſe,

But(if they can not with her will,)

         to bring the mayde perforce.

   The meſſage heard,they part,

         to fetch that they muſt fet:

And willingly with them walkes forth

         obedient Iuliet.

   Arriued in the place,

         when ſhe her father ſaw,

Of whom(as much as duety would)

         the daughter ſtoode in awe.

   The ſeruantes ſent away,

          (the mother thought it meete)

The wofull daughter all be wept,

         fell groueling at his feete.

   Which ſhe doth waſhe with teares

         as ſhe thus groueling lyes:

So faſt and eke ſo plenteouſly

         diſtill they from her eyes.

   When ſhe to call for grace

         her mouth doth think to open,

Muet ſhe is:for ſighes and ſobs

         her fearefull talke hauebroken.

                    of Romeus and Iuliet.

   The ſyre,whoſe ſwelling worth

         her teares could not aſſwage,

With fiery eyen,and ſkarlet cheekes,

         thus ſpake her in his rage.

   Whilſt ruthfully ſtood by

         the maydens mother mylde,

Liſten(quoth he)vnthankfull and

         thou diſobedient childe.

   Haſt thou ſo ſoone let ſlip

         out of thy mynde the woord,

That thou ſo often times haſt heard

         rehearſed at my boord?

   How much the Romayne youth

         of parentes ſtood in awe,

And eke what powre vpon theyr ſeede

         the fathers had by lawe?

   Whom they not onely might

         pledge,alienate,and ſell,

(When ſo they ſtoode in neede)but more

         if children did rebell,

   The parentes had the power,

         of lyfe and ſodayn death.

What if thoſe goodmen ſhould agayne

         receaue the liuyng breth?

   In how ſtraight bondes would they

         thy ſtubberne body bynde:

What weapons would they ſeeke for thee?

         what tormentes would they fynde?

   To chaſten(if they ſaw)

         the lewdnes of thy lyfe,

Thy great vnthankfulnes to me,

         and ſhamefull ſturdy ſtrife?

   Such care thy mother had,

         ſo deere then wert to me,

That I with long and earneſt ſute,

         prouided haue for thee.

                    The Tragicall hiſtory.

   One of the greateſt lordes,

         that wonnes about this towne,

And for his many vertues ſake,

         a man of great renowne.

   Of whom,both thou and I,

         vnworthy are too much,

So riche ere long he ſhalbe left,

         his fathers welth is ſuch.

   Such is the noblenes,

         and honor of the race,

From whence his father came, and yet

         thou playeſt in this caſe,

   The dainty foole,and ſtubberne

         gyrle, or want of ſkill,

Thou doſt refuſe thy offred weale,

         and diſobay my will.

   Euen by his ſtrength I ſweare,

         that fyrſt did geue me lyfe

And gaue me in my youth the ſtrength

         to get thee on my wyfe.

   On leſſe by wenſday next,

         thou bende as I am bent,

And at our caſtle cald free towne,

         thou freely doe aſſent

   To Counte Paris ſute,

         and promiſe to agree

To whatſoeuer then ſhall paſſe,

         twixt him,my wife, and me.

   Not onely will I geue

         all that I haue away,

From thee,to thoſe that ſhall me loue,

         me honor, and obay:

   But alſo too ſo cloſe,

         and to ſo hard a gayle,

I ſhall thee wed for all thy life,

         that ſure thou ſhalt not fayle.

<Fo.27. || D.iii.v>

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