APPENDIX I
The Queen Mab speech in Qi
Mer: Ah then I see Queene Mab hath bin with you.
Ben:  Queene Mab whats she ?
She is the dairies Midwife and doth come
In shape no bigger than an Aggat stone
On the forefinger of a Burgomaster,
Drawne with a teeme of little Atomi,
A thwart mens noses when they lie a sleepe.
Her waggon spokes are made of spinners webs,
The couer, of the winges of Grashoppers,
The traces are the Moone-shine watrie beames,
The collers crickets bones, the lash of filmes,
Her waggoner is a small gray coated flie,
Not hälfe so big as is a little worme,
Pickt from the lasie finger of a maide,
And in this sort she gallops vp and downe
Through Louers braines, and then they dream of loue:
O're Courtiers knees: who strait on cursies dreame
O're Ladies lips, who dreame on kisses strait:
Which oft the angrie Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breathes with sweetmeats tainted are:
Sometimes she gallops ore a Lawers lap,
And then dreames he of smelling out a sute,
And sometime comes she with a tithe pigs taile,
Tickling a Parsons nose that lies a sleepe,
And then dreames he of another benefice:
Sometime she gallops ore a souldiers nose,
And then dreames he of cutting forraine throats,
Of breaches ambuscados, countermines,
Of healthes fiue fadome deepe, and then anon
Drums in his eare: at which he Startes and wakes,
And sweares a Praier or two and sleepes againe.
This is that Mab that makes maids lie on their backes,
And proues them women of good cariage. (the night,
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This is the verie Mab that plats the manes of Horses in And plats the Elfelocks in foule sluttish haire, Which once vntangled much misfortune breedes. Peace, peace, thou talkst of nothing.
I
APPENDIX II
Extracts from Brooke's Romeus and Juliet, 1562
THE TRAGICALL HISTORYE OF ROMEUS AND JULIET written first in Italian By Bandell, and nowe in Englishe by Ar. Br. In aedibus Richardi Tottelli. Cum Privilegio [1562]
to the reader
The God of all glorye created universallye all creatures, to settle forth his prayse, both those whiche we esteme profitable in use and pleasure, and also those, whiche we accompte nqysome, and lothsome. But principally he hath appointed man, the chief est instrument of his honour, not onely, for minis-tryng matter thereof in man himselfe: but aswell in gatheryng out of other, the occasions of publishing Gods goodnes, wisdome, & power. And in like sort, everye dooyng of man hath by Goddes dyspensacion some thynge, whereby God may, and ought to be honored. So the good doynges of the good, & the evil actes of the wicked, the happy successe of the blessed, and the wofull procedinges of the miserable, doe in divers sorte sound one prayse of God. And as eche flower yeldeth hony to the bee: so every exaumple minis-treth good lessons, to the well disposed mynde. The glorious triumphe of the continent man upon the lustes of wanton fleshe, incourageth men to honest restraynt of wyld affections, the shamefull and wretched endes of such, as haveyelded their libertie thrall to fowle desires, teache men to witholde them selves from the hedlongfall of loose dishonestie. So, to lyke effect, by sundry meatus, the good mans exaumple byddeth men to be good, and the evill mans mischefe, wameth men not to be evyll. To this good ende, serve all ill endes, of yll begynnynges. And to this ende {good Reader) is this tragicall matter written, to describe unto thee a coople of unfortunate lovers, thralling themselves to unhonest desire, neglecting the authoritie and advise of parents and frendes, conferring their principall counsels with dronken gossyppes, and
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superstitiousfriers (the naturally fitte instruments of unchastitie) attempting all adventures ofperyll,for thattaynyng of their wished lust, usyng auriculer confession (the kay of whoredome, and treason) for furtheraunce of theyr purpose, abusyng the honorable name of lawefull manage, the cloke the shame of stolne contracles, finallye, by all meanes of unhonest lyfe, hastyng to most unhappye deathe. This president (good Reader) shalbe to thee, as the slaves of Lacedemon, oppressed with excesse of drinke, deformed and altered from likenes of men, both in my tide, and use of body, were to the free borne children, so shewed to them by their parentes, to thintent to rqyse in them an hatefull lothyng of so filthy beastlynes. Hereunto if you applye it, ye shall deliver my dooing from offence, and profit your selves. Though J saw the same argument lately setfoorth on stage with more commendation, then lean looke for: (being there much better set forth then I have or can dooe) yet the same matter penned as it is, may serve to lyke good effect, if the readers do brynge with them lyke myndes, to consider it. which hath the more in-couraged me to publishe it, suche as it is.
Ar. Br.
the argument
Love hath inflamed twayne by sodayn sight. § And both do graunt the thing that both desyre. I They wed in shrift by counsell of a frier. I Tong Romeus clymes fayre Juliets bower by night. 1
Three monthes he doth enjoy his cheefe delight. J By Tybalts rage, provoked untoyre,
He payeth death to Tybalt for his hyre. I
A banisht man he scapes by secret flight. Mew manage is offred to his wyfe:
She drinkes a drinke that seemes to reve her breath.
They bury her, that slepingyet hath lyfe. Her husband heares the tydinges of her death.
He drinkes his bane. And she with Romeus knyfe, When she awakes, her selfe (alas) she sleath.
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There is beyonde the Alps, a towne of auncient fame Whose bright renoune yet shineth cleare, Verona men it name, Bylt in an happy time, bylt on a fertile soyle, Maynteined by the heavenly fates, and by the townish toyle. The fruitfull hilles above, the pleasant vales belowe, The silver streame with chanell depe, that through the towne doth flow,
appendix ii 24I
The store of springes that serve for use, and eke for ease And other moe commodities which profite may and please, Eke many certaine signes of thinges betyde of olde, To fyll the houngry eyes of those that curiously beholde 10 Doe make this towne to be preferde above the rest Of Lumbard townes, or at least compared with the best. In which while Escalus, as prince alone dyd raigne, To reache rewarde unto the good, to pay the lewde with payne, Alas (I rewe to thinke) an heavy happe befell Which Boccace skant (not my rude tong) were able forth to tell. Within my trembling hande, my penne doth shake for feare And on my colde amased head, upright doth stand my heare. But sith she doth commaunde, whose hest I must obaye, In moorning verse, a wofull chaunce to tell I will assaye. 20 Helpe learned Pallas, helpe, ye muses with your arte, Helpe all ye damned feendes to tell, of joyes retournd to smart, Helpe eke ye sisters three, my skillesse penne t'indyte For you it causd which I (alas) unable am to wryte. There were two auncient stockes, which Fortune high dyd place Above the rest, indewd with welth, and nobler of their race, Loved of the common sort, loved of the Prince alike, And like unhappy were they both, when Fortune list to strike. Whose prayse with equall blast, fame in her trumpet blew: The one was cliped Capelet, and thother Montagew. 30 A wonted use it is, that men of likely sorte (I wot not by what furye forsd) envye eche others porte. So these, whose egall state bred envye pale of hew, And then of grudging envyes roote, blacke hate and rancor grewe.
As of a little sparke, oft ryseth mighty fyre, So of a kyndled sparke of grudge, in flames flashe out theyr yre, And then theyr deadly foode, first hatchd of trifling stryfe Did bathe in bloud of smarting woundes, it re[a]ved breth and lyfe.
No legend lye I tell, scarce yet theyr eyes be drye
That did behold the grisly sight, with wet and weping eye. 40
But when the prudent prince, who there the scepter helde,
So great a new disorder in his common weale behelde
By jentyl meane he sought, their choler to asswage,
And by perswasion to appease, their blameful furious rage.
But both his woords and tyme, the prince hath spent in vayne
So rooted was the inward hate, he lost his buysy payne.
When frendly sage advise, ne jentyll woords avayle,
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By thondring threats, and princely powre their courage gan he quayle,
In hope that when he had the wasting flame supprest,
In time he should quyte quench the sparks that boornd within
their brest. 50 Now whilst these kyndreds do remayne in this estate, And eche with outward frendly shew dooth hyde his inward hate, One Romeus, who was of race a Montague, Upon whose tender chyn, as yet, no manlyke beard there grewe, Whose beauty and whose shape so farre the rest did stayne, That from the cheefe of Veron youth he greatest fame dyd gayne, Hath founde a mayd so fayre (he found so foule his happe) Whose beauty, shape, and comely grace, did so his heart
entrappe,
That from his owne affayres, his thought she did remove,
Onely he sought to honor her, to serve her, and to love. 60
To her he writeth oft, oft messengers are sent:
At length (in hope of better spede) himselfe the lover went
Present to pleade for grace, which absent was not founde,
And to discover to her eye his new receaved wounde.
But she that from her youth was fostred evermore
With vertues foode, and taught in schole of wisdomes skilfull lore,
By aunswere did cutte of[f] thaffections of his love,
That he no more occasion had so vayne a sute to move.
So sterne she was of chere, (for all the payne he tooke)
That in reward of toyle, she would not geve a frendly looke____70
In sighs, in teares, in plainte, in care, in sorow and unrest, [92]
He mones the daye, he wakes the long and wery night,
So deepe hath love with pearcing hand, ygravd her bewty bright
Within his brest, and hath so mastred quite his hart
That he of force must yeld as thrall, no way is left to start.
He can not staye his steppe, but forth still must he ronne,
He languisheth and melts awaye, as snow against the sonne,
His kyndred and al[l]yes do wonder what he ayles,
And echaof them in frendly wise, his heavy hap bewayles. 100
But one emong the rest, the trustiest of his feeres,
Farre more then he with counsel fild, and ryper of his yeeres,
Gan sharply him rebuke, suche love to him he bare
That he was felow of his smart, and partner of his care.
What meanst thou Romeus (quoth he) what doting rage
Dooth make thee thus consume away, the best parte of thine age,
In seking her that scornes, and hydes her from thy sight,
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Not forsing all thy great expence, ne yet thy honor bright, Thy teares, thy wretched lyfe, ne thine unspotted truth Which are of force (I weene) to move the hardest hart to
ruthe. 110 Now for our frendships sake, and for thy health I pray That thou hencefoorth become thyne owne, O geve no more
away
Unto a thankeles wight, thy precious free estate. In that thou lovest such a one, thou seemst thy selfe to hate, For she doth love els where, (and then thy time is lorne) Or els (what booteth thee to sue) loves court she hath forsworne....
But sow no more thy paynes in such a barrayne soyle ['35]
As yeldes in harvest time no crop in recompence of toyle.
Ere long the townishe dames together will resort,
Some one of bewty, favour, shape, and of so lovely porte
With so fast fixed eye, perhaps thou mayst beholde,
That thou shalt quite forget thy love, and passions past of
olde. 140 The yong mans lystning eare receivde the [w]holesome sounde, And reasons truth yplanted so, within his head had grounde That now with healthy coole ytempred is the heate And piecemeale weares away the greefe that erst his heart dyd
freate.
To his approved frend, a solemne othe he plight: At every feast ykept by day, and banquet made by night, At pardons in the churche, at games in open streate, And every where he would resort where Ladies wont to meete. Eke should his savage heart lyke all indifferently, For he would view and judge them all with unallured eye.    150 How happy had he been had he not been forsworne But twyse as happy had he been had he been never borne, For ere the Moone could thryse her wasted homes renew, False Fortune cast for him poore wretch, a myschiefe newe to brewe.
The wery winter nightes restore the Christmas games,
And now the season doth invite to banquet townish dames.
And fyrst in Capels house, the chiefe of all the kyn
Sparth for no cost, the wonted use of banquets to begyn.
No Lady fayre or fowle, was in Verona towne,
No knight or gentleman of high or lowe renowne 160
But Capilet himselfe hath byd unto his feast,
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Or by his name in paper sent, appoynted as a geast.
Yong damsels thether flocke, of bachelers a rowte,
Not so much for the banquets sake, as bewties to searche out.
But not a Montagew would enter at his gate,
For as you heard, the Capilets, and they were at debate,
Save Romeus, and he in maske with hidden face,
The supper done, with other five dyd prease into the place.
When they had maskd a whyle, with dames in courtly wise
All dyd unmaske, the rest dyd shew them to theyr ladies
eyes. 170 But bashfull Romeus, with shamefast face forsooke The open prease, and him withdrew into the chambers nooke. But brighter then the sunne, the waxen torches shone That mauger what he could, he was espyd of every one....
The Capilets disdayne the presence of theyr foe t1^] Yet they suppresse theyr styrred yre, the cause I do not knowe. Perhaps toffend theyr gestes the courteous knights are loth, Perhaps they stay from sharpe revenge, dreadyng the Princes wroth,
Perhaps for that they shamd to exercise theyr rage
Within their house, gainst one alone and him of tender age....
At length he saw a mayd, right fayre of perfect shape [197]
Which Theseus, or Paris would have chosen to their rape,
Whom erst he never sawe, of all she pleasde him most.
Within himselfe he said to her, thou justly mayst thee boste 200
Of perfit shapes renoune, and Beauties sounding prayse,
Whose like ne hath, ne shalbe seene, ne liveth in our dayes.
And whilest he fixd on her his partiall perced eye,
His former love, for which of late he ready was to dye,
Is nowe as quite forgotte, as it had never been.
The proverbe saith, unminded oft are they that are unseene
And as out of a planke a nayle a nayle doth drive,
So novell love out of the minde the auncient love doth rive.
This sodain kindled fyre in time is wox so great,
That onely death and both theyr blouds might quench the
fiery heate. a 10
When Romeus saw himselfe in this new tempest tost Where both was hope of pleasant port, and daunger to be lost, He doubtefull, ska[r]sely knew what countenance to keepe; In Lethies floud his wonted flames were quenchd and drenched
deepe.
appendix 11 245
Yea he forgets himselfe, ne is the wretch so bolde To aske her name, that without force hath him in bondage folde.
Ne how tunloose his bondes doth the poore foole devise, But onely seeketh by her sight to feede his houngry eyes. Through them he swalloweth downe loves sweete empoysonde baite,
How surely are the wareles wrapt by those that lye in wayte? 220 So is the poyson spred throughout his bones and vaines, That in a while (alas the while) it hasteth deadly paines. Whilst Juliet (for so this gentle damsell hight) From syde to syde on every one dyd cast about her sight. At last her noting eyes were ancored fast on him, Who for her sake dyd banishe health and fredome from eche limme.
He in her sight did seeme to passe the rest as farre As Phoebus shining beames do passe the brightnes of a starre. In wayte laye warlike love with golden bowe and shaft, And to his eare with steady hand the bowstring up he raft. 230 Till now she had escapde his sharpe inflaming darte, Till now he listed not assaulte her yong and tender hart. His whetted arrow loosde, so touchd her to the quick, That through the eye it strake the hart, and there the hedde did sticke.
It booted not to strive, for why, she wanted strength: The weaker aye unto the strong of force must yeld at length. The pomps now of the feast her heart gyns to despyse And onely joyeth when her eyen meete with her lovers eyes. When theyr new smitten heartes had fed on loving gleames, Whilst passing too and fro theyr eyes ymingled were theyr
beames, 240 Eche of these lovers gan by others lookes to knowe That frendship in their brest had roote, and both would have it
grow.
When thus in both theyr harts had Cupide made his breache And eche of them had sought the meane to end the warre by speache,
Dame Fortune did assent theyr purpose to advaunce, With torche in hand a comly knight did fetch her foorth to daunce.
She quit her selfe so well, and with so trim a grace,
That she the cheefe prayse wan that night from all Verona race.
The whilst our Romeus, a place had warely wonne
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Nye to the seate where she must sit, the daunce once beyng
donne 250 Fayre Juliet tourned to her chayre with pleasant cheere And glad she was her Romeus approched was so neere. At thone side of her chayre, her lover Romeo And on the other side there sat one cald Mercutio, A courtier that eche where was highly had in pryce, For he was coorteous of his speche, and pleasant of devise Even as a Lyon would emong the lambes be bolde, Such was emong the bashfull maydes, Mercutio to beholde. With frendly gripe he ceasd fayre Juliets snowish hand. A gyft he had that nature gave him in his swathing band, 260 That frosen mountayne yse was never halfe so cold As were his handes, though nere so neer the fire he dyd them holde.
As soone as had the knight the vyrgins right hand raught Within his trembling hand her left hath loving Romeus caught, For he wist well himselfe for her abode most payne And well he wist she loved him best, unles she list to fayne. Then she with tender hand his tender palme hath prest, What joy trow you was graffed so in Romeus cloven brest? The soodain sweete delight hath stopped quite his tong Ne can he claime of her his right, ne crave redresse of wrong. 270 But she espyd straight waye, by chaunging of his hewe From pale to red, from red to pale, and so from pale anewe, That vehment love was cause, why so his tong dyd stay And so much more she longde to heare what love could teache him saye.
When she had longed long, and he long held his peace,
And her desire of hearing him, by sylence dyd encrease,
At last with trembling voyce and shamefast chere, the mayde
Unto her Romeus tournde her selfe, and thus to him she sayde.
O blessed be the time of thy arrivall here:
But ere she could speake forth the rest, to her love drewe so
nere 280 And so within her mouth, her tong he glewed fast, That no one woord could scape her more, then what already
past.
In great contented ease the yong man straight is rapt, What chaunce (quoth he) unware to me O lady myne is hapt? That geves you worthy cause, my cumming here to blisse? Fayre Juliet was come agayne unto her selfe by this. Fyrst ruthfully she lookd, then sayd with smylyng cheere
1
appendix ii 247
Mervayle no whit my heartes delight, my onely knight and fere, Mercutio's ysy hande had all to frosen myne And of thy goodnes thou agayne hast warmed it with thine. 290 Whereto with stayed brow, gan Romeus to replye If so the gods have graunted me suche favour from the skye, That by my being here, some service I have donne That pleaseth you I am as glad, as I a realme had wonne. O wel bestowed tyme, that hath the happy hyre, Which I woulde wysh if I might have, my wished harts desire, For I of God woulde crave, as pryse of paynes forpast, To serve, obey, and honour you, so long as lyfe shall last. As proofe shall teache you playne, if that you like to trye His faltles truth, that nill for ought, unto his lady lye, 300 But if my tooched hand, have warmed yours some dele, Assure your self the heat is colde, which in your hand you fele Compard to suche quick sparks and glowing furious gleade As from your bewties pleasaunt eyne, love caused to proceade Which have so set on fyre, eche feling parte of myne, That lo, my mynde doeth melt awaye, my utwerd parts doe pyne And but you helpe all whole, to ashes shall I toorne, Wherfore (alas) have ruth on him, whom you do force to boorne. Even with his ended tale, the torches daunce had ende, And Juliet of force must part from her new chosen frend. 310 His hand she clasped hard, and all her partes did shake, When laysureles with whispring voyce thus did she aunswer make:
You are no more your owne (deare frend) then I am yours, (My honor saved) prest tobay your will, while life endures. Lo, here the lucky lot that seld true lovers finde, Eche takes away the others hart, and leaves the owne behinde. A happy life is love if God graunt from above, That hart with hart by even waight doo make exchaunge of love. But Romeus gone from her, his heart for care is colde, He hath forgot to aske her name that hath his hart in holde. 320 With forged careles cheere, of one he seekes to knowe, Both how she hight, and whence she came, that him enchaunted so So hath he learned her name, and knowth she is no geast, Her father was a Capilet, and master of the feast. Thus hath his foe in choyse to geve him lyfe or death That scarsely can his wofull brest keepe in the lively breath. Wherfore with piteous plaint feerce Fortune doth he blame That in his ruth and wretched plight doth seeke her laughing game....
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appendix ii
249
As carefull was the mayde what way were best devise [341] To learne his name, that intertaind her in so gentle wise, Of whome her hart received so deepe, so wyde a wounde. An auncient dame she calde to her, and in her eare gan rounde. This olde dame in her youth, had nurst her with her mylke, With slender nedle taught her sow, and how to spin with silke. What twayne are those (quoth she) which prease unto the doore, Whose pages in theyr hand doe beare, two toorches light before? And then as eche of them had of his houshold name, So she him namde yet once agayne, the yong and wyly
dame, 350 And tell me who is he with vysor in his hand, That yonder doth in masking weede Jiesyde the window stand? His name is Romeus, (said she) a Montegewe Whose fathers pryde first styrd the strife which both your
housholdes rewe. The woord of Montegew, her joyes did overthrow, And straight in steadc of happy hope, dyspayre began to growe. What hap have I quoth she, to Jove my fathers foe? What, am I wery of my wele? what, doe I wishe my woe? But though her grievous paynes distraind her tender hart Yet with an outward shewe of joye she cloked inward smart, 360 And of the courtlyke dames her leave so courtly tooke, That none dyd gesse the sodain change by changing of her looke. Then at her mothers hest to chamber she her hyde, So well she faynde, mother ne nurce, the hidden harme descride. But when she should have slept as wont she was, in bed, Not halfe a winke of quiet slepe could harber in her hed....
The mayde had scarsely yet ended the wery warre, [433] Kept in her heart by striving thoughtes, when every shining starre
Had payd his borowed light, and Phebus spred in skies
His golden rayes, which seemd to say, now time it is to rise.
And Romeus had by this forsaken his wery bed,
Where restles he a thousand thoughts had forged in his hed.
And while with lingring step by Juliets house he past,
And upward to her windowes high his gredy eyes did cast, 440
His love that looked for him there gan he straight espie.
With pleasant cheere eche greeted is, she followeth with her eye
His parting steppes, and he oft looketh backe againe,
But not so oft as he desyres; warely he doth refraine.
What life were lyke to love, if dred of jeopardy
Ysowred not the sweete, if love were free from jelosy. But she more sure within, unseene of any wight, When so he comes, lookes after him, till he be out of sight. In often passing so, his busy eyes he threw,
That every pane and tooting hole the wily lover knew. 450 In happy houre he doth a garden plot espye, From which, except he warely walke, men may his love descrye, For lo, it fronted full upon her leaning place, Where she is woont to shew her heart by cheerefull frendly face. And lest the arbors might theyr secret love bewraye, He doth keepe backe his forward foote from passing there by daye.
But when on earth the night her mantel blacke hath spred,
Well armd he walketh foorth alone, ne dreadfull foes doth dred.
Whom maketh love not bold, naye whom makes he not blynde?
He reveth daungers dread oft times out of the lovers minde. 460
By night he passeth here, a weeke or two in vayne
And for the missing of his marke, his griefe hath him nye slaine.
And Juliet that now doth lacke her hearts releefe,
Her Romeus pleasant eyen (I meene) is almost dead for greefe.
Eche day she chaungeth howres, (for lovers keepe an howre)
When they are sure to see theyr love, in passing by their bowre.
Impacient of her woe, she hapt to leane one night
Within her window, and anon the Moone did shine so bright
That she espyde her love, her hart revived, sprang
And now for joy she clappes her handes, which erst for woe she
wrang. 47° Eke Romeus, when he sawe his long desired sight, His moorning cloke of mone cast off, hath clad him with delight. Yet dare I say, of both, that she rejoyced more: His care was great, hers twise as great, was all the tyme before, For whilst she knew not why he dyd himselfe absent, Ay douting both his health and lyfe, his death she dyd lament. For love is fearefull oft, where is no cause of feare And what love feares, that love laments, as though it chaunced
weare....
Now whilst with bitter teares her eyes as fountaynes ronne, [489] With whispering voyce, ybroke with sobs, thus is her tale
begönne. 49° Oh Romeus (of your lyfe) too lavas sure you are, That in this place, and at thys tyme to hasard it you dare, What if your dedly foes, my kynsmen, saw you here?
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Lyke Lyons wylde, your tender partes asonder would they teare. In ruth and in disdayne, I weary of my life, With cruell hand my moorning hart would perce with bloudy knyfe.
For you myne owne once dead, what joy should I have here? And eke my honor staynde which I then lyfe doe holde more deare.
Fayre lady myne dame Juliet my lyfe (quod he) Even from my byrth committed was to fatall sisters three. 500 They may in spyte of foes, draw foorth my lively threed , And they also, who so sayth nay, asonder may it shreed. But who to reave my lyfe, his rage and force would bende, Perhaps should trye unto his payne how I it could defende. Ne yet I love it so, but alwayes, for your sake, A sacrifice to death I would my wounded corps betake. If my mishappe were such, that here, before your sight, I should restore agayne to death, of lyfe my borowde light, This one thing and no more my parting sprite would rewe: That part he should, before that you by certaine triall knew 510 The love I owe to you, the thrall I languish in And how I dread to loose the gayne which I doe hope to win And how I wishe for lyfe, not for my propre ease, But that in it, you might I love, you honor, serve and please Tyll dedly pangs the sprite out of the corps shall send. And therupon he sware an othe, and so his tale had ende.
Now love and pitty boyle, in Juliets ruthfull brest, In windowe on her leaning arme, her weary hed doth rest, Her bosome bathd in teares, to witnes inward payne, With dreary chere to Romeus, thus aunswerd she agayne. 520 Ah my deere Romeus, keepe in these woordes (quod she) For lo, the thought of such mischaunce, already maketh me For pitty and for dred welnigh to yelde up breath. In even ballance peysed are my life and eke my death, For so my hart is knitte, yea, made one selfe with yours That sure there is no greefe so small, by which your mynde endures,
But as you suffer payne, so I doe beare in part,
(Although it lessens not your greefe), the halfe of all your smart.
But these thinges overpast, if of your health and myne
You have respect, or pitty ought my teary weping eyen, 530
In few unfained woords, your hidden mynd unfolde,
That as I see your pleasant face, your heart I may beholde.
For if you doe intende my honor to defile
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In error shall you wander still, as you have done this whyle, But if your thought be chaste, and have on vertue ground, If wedlocke be the ende and marke which your desire hath found,
Obedience set aside, unto my parentes dewe,
The quarell eke that long agoe betwene our housholdes grewe,
Both me and myne I will all whole to you betake
And following you where so you goe, my fathers house
forsake. 540 But if by wanton love, and by unlawfull sute, You thinke in ripest yeres to plucke my maydenho[o]ds dainty
frute,
You are begylde, and now your Juliet you beseekes
To cease your sute, and suffer her to live emong her likes.
Then Romeus, whose thought was free from fowle desyre
And to the top of vertues haight, did worthely aspyre
Was fild with greater joy, then can my pen expresse
Or, till they have enjoyed the like, the hearers hart can gesse.
And then with joyned hands heavd up into the skies
He thankes the Gods, and from the heavens for vengeance
downe he cries, 550 If he have other thought, but as his lady spake, And then his looke he toornd to her, and thus did aunswer make. Since Lady that you like to honor me so much, As to accept me for your spouse, I yeld my selfe for such. In true witnes wherof, because I must depart, Till that my deede do prove my woord, I leave in pawne my hart. To morrow eke betimes, before the sunne arise, To fryer Lawrence will I wende, to learne his sage advise. He is my gosdy syre, and oft he hath me taught What I should doe in things of wayght, when I his ayde have
sought. 560 And at this selfe same houre, I plyte you here my fayth: I wil be here (if you thinke good) to tell you what he sayth. She was contented well, els favour found he none That night, at lady Juliets hand, save pleasant woordes alone.
This barefoote fryer gyrt with cord his grayish weede, For he of Frauncis order was, a fryer as I reede, Not as the most was he, a grosse unlearned foole, But doctor of divinitie proceded he in schoole. The secretes eke he knew, in natures woorkes that loorke, By magiks arte most men supposd that he could wonders
woorke. 57°
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Ne doth it ill beseeme devines those skils to know
If on no harmefull deede they do such skilfulnes bestow.
For justly of no arte can men condemne the use
But right and reasons lore crye out agaynst the lewd abuse.
The bounty of the fryer and wisdom hath so wonne
The townes folks herts, that welnigh all to fryer Lawrence ronne
To shrive them selfe the olde, the yong, the great and small.
Of all he is beloved well, and honord much of all.
And for he did the rest in wisdome farre exceede,
The prince by him (his counsell cravde) was holpe at time of
neede. 580 Betwixt the Capilets and him great frendship grew: A secret and assured frend unto the Montegue. Loved of this yong man more then any other gest, The frier eke of Verone youth aye liked Romeus best, For whom he ever hath, in time of his distres, (As erst you heard) by skilfull lore, found out his harmes redresse. To him is Romeus gonne, ne stayth he till the morowe, To him he paynteth all his case, his passed joy and sorow,...
And then with weping eyes he prayes his gostly syre [595] To further and accomplish all theyr honest hartes desire. A thousand doutes and moe in thold mans hed arose, A thousand daungers like to come, the olde man doth disclose, And from the spousal 1 rites he redeth him refrayne: Perhaps he shalbe bet advisde within a weeke or twayne. 600 Advise is banishd quite from those that followe love, Except advise to what they like theyr bending mynde do move. As well the father might have counseld him to stay That from a mountaines top thrown downe, is falling halfe the way,
As warne his frend to stop, amyd his race begonne, Whom Cupid with his smarting whip enforceth foorth to ronne. Part wonne by earnest sute, the fryer doth graunt at last. And part, because he thinkes the stormes so lately overpast, Of both the housholdes wrath, this mariage might apease, So that they should not rage agayne, but quite for ever
cease. 610 The respite of a day, he asketh to devyse What way were best, unknowne to ende so great an
enterprise....
Yong Romeus powreth foorth his hap and his mishap,
appendix ii 253
Into the friers brest, but where shall Juliet unwrap 620 The secretes of her hart? to whom shall she unfolde, Her hidden burning love, and eke her thought and cares so colde?
The nurce of whom I spake within her chaumber laye, Upon the mayde she wayteth still; to her she doth bewray Her new received wound, and then her ayde doth crave. In her she saith it lyes to spill, in her her life to save. Not easely she made the froward nurce to bowe But wonne at length, with promest hyre she made a solemne vowe
To do what she commaundes, as handmayd of her hest,
Her mistres secrets hide she will, within her covert brest. 630
To Romeus she goes; of him she doth desyre, To knowe the meane of mariage, by councell of the fryre. On Saterday, quod he, if Juliet come to shrift, She shalbe shrived and maried, how lyke you noorse this drift? Now by my truth (quod she) gods blessing have your hart For yet in all my life I have not heard of such a part....
[They plan that Juliet shall pretend to go to shrift.]
I know her mother will in no case say her nay, I warrant you she shall not fayle to come on Saterday. 650 And then she sweares to him, the mother loves her well, And how she gave her sucke in youth she leaveth not to tell. A prety babe (quod she), it was when it was yong, Lord how it could full pretely have prated with it tong, A thousand times and more I laid her on my lappe, And clapt her on the buttocke soft and kist where I did clappe And gladder then was I of such a kisse forsooth, Then I had been to have a kisse of some olde lechers mouth. And thus of Juliets youth began this prating noorse, And of her present state to make a tedious long discoorse. 660 For though he pleasure tooke in hearing of his love, The message aunswer seemed him to be of more behove. But when these Beldams sit at ease upon theyr tayle, The day and eke the candle light before theyr talke shall fayle And part they say is true, and part they do devise, Yet boldly do they chat of both when no man checkes theyr lyes.
Then he .vi. crownes of gold out of his pocket drew
And gave them her, a slight reward (quod he) and so adiew.
In seven yeres twise tolde she had not bowd so lowe,
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670
Her crooked knees, as now they bowe, she sweares she will bestowe
Her crafty wit, her time, and all her busy payne, To helpe him to his hoped blisse, and, cowring downe agayne, She takes her leave, and home she hyes with spedy pace. The chaumber doore she shuts, and then she saith with smyling face,
Good newes for thee, my gyrle, good tidinges I thee bring, Leave of thy woonted song of care and now of pleasure sing. For thou mayst hold thy selfe the happiest under sonne That in so little while, so well so worthy a knight hast wonne. The best yshapde is he, and hath the fayrest face, Of all this towne, and there is none hath halfe so good a
grace, 680 So gentle of his speche, and of his counsell wise, And still with many prayses more she heaved him to the skies. Tell me els what (quod she) this evermore I thought, But of our mariage say at once, what aunswer have you brought? Nay, soft, quoth she, I feare your hurt by sodain joye. I list not play quoth Juliet, although thou list to toye. How glad trow you was she, when she had heard her say No farther of then Saterday, differred was the day. Againe the auncient nurce doth speake of Romeus, And then (said she) he spake to me, and then I spake him
thus.
Nothing was done or said, that she hath left untolde, Save onely one, that she forgot the taking of the golde. There is no losse quod she, (sweete wench) to losse of time, Ne in thine age shalt thou repent so much of any crime. For when I call to mynde, my former passed youth One thing there is which most of all doth cause my endles ruth At sixtene yeres I first did choose my loving feere, And 1 was fully ripe before, (I dare well say) a yere. The pleasure that I lost, that yere so overpast, A thousand times I have bewept, and shall while lyfe doth last. ,
In fayth it were a shame, yea sinne it were ywisse, When thou mayst live in happy joy to set light by thy blisse. She that this mornyng could her mistres mynde disswade, Is now becomme an Oratresse, her lady to perswade. . . .
Thus to the fryers cell, they both foorth walked bin: [743] He shuts the doore as soone as he and Juliet were in.
690
700
appendix ii 355
But Romeus her frend was entred in before And there had wayted for his love, two howers large and more. Eche minute seemde an howre, and every howre a day: Twixt hope he lived and despayre, of cumming or of stay....
So lovers live in care, in dread, and in unrest [793] And dedly warre by striving thoughts they kepe within their brest.
But wedlocke is the peace wherby is freedome wonne,
To do a thousand pleasant thinges that should not els be donne.
The newes of ended warre these two have h[e]ard with joy
But now they long the fruite of peace with pleasure to enjoy.
In stormy wind and wave, in daunger to be lost,
Thy stearles ship (O Romeus) hath been long while betost. 800
The seas are now appeasd, and thou by happy starre
Art comme in sight of quiet haven and, now the wrackfull barre
Is hid with swelling tyde, boldly thou mayst resort
Unto thy wedded ladies bed, thy long desyred port.
God graunt no follies mist, so dymme thy inward sight,
That thou do misse the chanell, that doth leade to thy delight.
God graunt no daungers rocke, ylurking in the darke,
Before thou win the happy port, wracke thy sea beaten barke.
A servant Romeus had, of woord and deede so just,
That with his life (if nede requierd) his master would him
trust. 810 His faithfulnes had oft our Romeus proved of olde And therfore all that yet was done unto his man he tolde, Who straight as he was charged, a corden ladder lookes To which he hath made fast two strong and crooked yron hookes. The bryde to send the nurce at twylight fayleth not, To whom the bridegroome geven hath, the ladder that he got, And then to watch for him appointeth her an howre For whether Fortune smyle on him, or if she list to lowre, He will not misse to comme to his appoynted place, Where wont he was to take by stelth the view of Juliets face. 820 How long these lovers thought the lasting of the day, Let other judge that woonted are lyke passions to assay. For my part, I do gesse eche howre seemes twenty yere So that I deeme, if they might have (as of Alcume we heare) The sunne bond to theyr will, if they the heavens might gyde, Black shade of night and doubled darke should straight all over
hyde.
Thappointed howre is comme, he clad in riche araye,
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Walkes toward his desyred home, good Fortune gyde his way. Approching nere the place from whence his hart had life, So light he wox, he lept the wall, and there he spyde his
wife, 830 Who in the windowe watcht the cumming of her lorde, Where she so surely had made fast the ladder made of corde That daungerles her spouse the chaumber window climes, Where he ere then had wisht himselfe above ten thousand times. The windowes close are shut, els looke they for no gest, To light the waxen quarters, the auncient nurce is prest, Which Juliet had before prepared to be light, That she at pleasure might beholde her husbandes bewty
bright.. ..
The blyndfyld goddesse that with frowning face doth
fraye, [911] And from theyr seate the mighty kinges throwes downe with
hedlong sway, Begynneth now to turne, to these her smyling face, Nedes must they tast of great delight, so much in Fortunes grace. If Cupid, God of love, be God of pleasant sport, I thinck O Romeus Mars himselfe envies thy happy sort. Ne Venus justly might, (as I suppose) repent, If in thy stead (O Juliet) this pleasant time she spent.
Thus passe they foorth the night in sport, in joly game: The has tines of Phoebus steeds in great despyte they blame. 920 And now the virgins fort hath warlike Romeus got, In which as yet no breache was made by force of canon shot, And now in ease he doth possesse the hoped place. How glad was he, speake you that may your lovers parts embrace....
The summer of their blisse, doth last a month or twayne But winters blast with spedy foote doth bring the fall agayne.
Whom glorious fortune erst had heaved to the skies By envious fortune overthrowne on earth now groveling lyes. She payd theyr former greefe with pleasures doubled gayne, But now for pleasures usery ten folde redoubleth payne.
The prince could never cause those housholds so agree, But that some sparcles of their wrath, as yet remaining bee Which lye this while rak'd up, in ashes pale and ded,
950
appendix ii
257
Till tyme do serve 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 begönne. 960 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 have chose out, Best exercisd in feates of armes, and noblest of the rowte, Our Juliets unkles 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 geve the charge, So lowde he cryde with strayned voyce and mouth outstretched large.
Now, now, (quod he) my frends, our selfe so let us wreake, That of this dayes revenge, and us, our childrens heyres may
speake. 970 Now once for all let us their swelling pride asswage, Let none of them escape alive; then he with furious rage And they with him gave charge, upon theyr present foes, And then forthwith a skyrmishe great upon this fray arose. For loe, the Montagewes thought shame away to flye, And rather then to live with shame, with prayse did choose to
dye.
The woordes that Tybalt usd to styre his folke to yre, Have in the brestes of Montagewes 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. 980 This furious fray is long, on each 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 every 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 whom he would have thrust quite through hath cleft his cracked skull.
Theyr valiant harts forbode theyr foote to geve the grounde, With unappauled cheere they tooke full deepe and doutfull
wounde. 99° 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 every townes mans eare,
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Eke walking with his frendes, the noyse doth wofull Romeus heare.
With spedy foote he ronnes unto 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. iooo Gods farther wrath you styrre, beside the hurt you feele And with this new uprore confounde all this our common wele. But they so busy are in fight so egar and feerce. That through theyr eares his sage advise 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 have past from side to side,
But Romeus ever went (douting his foes) well armde
So that the swerd (kept out by mayle) hath nothing Romeus
harmde. ioio 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 leave 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 (quoth he) straight way I mynd to trye Whether thy sugred talke, and tong so smothely fylde, Against the force of this my swerd shall serve thee for a shylde. And then at Romeus hed, a blow he strake so hard, That might have clove him to the brayne but for his cunning
ward. 1020
It was but lent to him that could repay agayne And geve him death for interest, a well forborne gayne. . . .
Even as two thunderboltes, throwne downe out of the
skye, [1031]
That through the ayre the massy earth and seas have 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:
appendix ii
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Who thyrsteth after others death, himselfe hath lost his life.
The Capilets are quaylde, by Tibalts overthrowe,
The courage of the Mountagewes, by Romeus sight doth growe,
The townes men waxen strong, the prince doth send his force,
The fray hath end, the Capilets do bring the brethles corse, 1040
Before the prince and crave that cruell dedly payne
May be the guerdon of his fait, that hath their kinsman slaine.
The Montagewes do pleade, theyr Romeus voyde of fait,
The lookers on do say, the fight begönne was by Tybalt,
The prince doth pawse, and then geves sentence in a while,
That Romeus, for sieving him should goe into exyle.
His foes would have him hangde, or sterve 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. 1050 This.common plag[u]e is spred, through all the towne anon, From side to syde the towne is fild with murmour and with
mone. . . .
But how doth moorne emong the moorners Juliet? 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 lover hearing of her lovers banishment? How wayles she Tibalts death, whom she had loved so well? Her hearty greefe and piteous plaint, cunning I want to
tell 1080 For delving 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 heavy crye, And up unto the heavens haight her piteous plaint doth flye. . . .
And then agayne, wroth with her selfe, with feble voyce gan say.
Ah cruell murthering tong, murthrer of others fame,     [1145] 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 quite of all, and Tybalt beares the fait?     1150 Whether shall he (alas), poore banishd man, now flye? What place of succor shall he seeke beneth the starry skye, Synce she pursueth him, and him defames by wrong
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That in distres should be his fort, and onely rampier strong?
Receive the recompence, O Romeus, of thy wife,
Who, for she was unkind her selfe, doth offer up her lyfe.
In flames of yre, in sighes, in sorow and in ruth,
So to revenge 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 1160 Her limmes she stretched forth, she drew no more her breath, Who had been there, might well have seene the signes 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 utward 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 Juliet.       1170 Ah my dere hart (quoth she) how greeveth me thy death? Alas what cause hast thou thus soone to yelde up living breath? But while she handled her, and chafed every part, She knew there was some sparke of life by beating of her hart, So that a thousand times she cald upon her name. There is no way to helpe a traunce, but she hath tryde the same....
Alas my tender nurce, and trusty frend (quoth she) [isoi]
Art thou so blinde, that with thine eye, thou canst not easely see
The lawfull cause I have, to sorow and to moorne,
Since those the which I hyld most deere I have at once forlorne?
Her nurce then aunswerd thus. Me thinkes it sits you yll,
To fall in these extremities that may you gyltles spill,
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 behave me wurse.       1210
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 perceve the fait, (if it be justly 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
appendix 11
261
Í
To whom in no respect, he ought a place to geve? Let it suffise to thee fayre dame, that Romeus doth live, And that there is good hope that he, within a while, With greater glory shalbe calde home from his hard exile. 1220 How wel yborne he is, thy selfe I know canst tell, By kindred strong, and well alyed, of all beloved well. With patience arme thy selfe, for though that Fortunes cryme, Without your fait, to both your greefes depart you for a time, 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 never erst you had. Wherfore rejoyce a while in hope, and be ne more so sad. And that I may discharge your hart of heavy care A certaine way I have found out, my paynes ne will I spare     1230 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....
By this, unto his cell, the nurce, with spedy pace, [1277] Was comme the nerest way: she sought no ydel resting place. The fryer sent home the newes of Romeus certain helth And promesse made (what so befell) he should that night by
stelth 1280 Comme to his wonted place that they in nedefull wise Of theyr affayres in time to comme, might thorowly devyse. Those joyfull newes, the nurce brought home with mery joy And now our Juliet joyes to thinke, she shall her love enjoye. The fryer shuts fast his doore, and then to him beneth, That waytes to heare the doutefull newes of lyfe or els of death, Thy hap quoth he, is good, daunger of death is none But thou shalt live, 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. 1290
These heavy tydinges heard, his golden lockes he tare And, like a frantike man, hath tome 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 rises eft, and strikes his head against the wals, He falleth downe againe, and lowde for hasty death he cals. Come spedy death (quoth he) the readiest leache in love, Since nought can els beneth the sunne the ground of griefe
remove,
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Of lothsome life breake downe the hated staggering staves, Destroy, destroy at once the lyfe that faintly yet decayes. 1300 But you (fayre dame) in whome dame nature dyd devise, 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 evermore to cease....
Therewith, a cloude of sighes, he breathd into the skies And two great streames of bitter teares, ran from his swollen
eyes. 1310
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. His wise and frendly woordes, he speaketh to the ayre For Romeus so vexed is, with care and with dispayre, That no advise 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. 1320 And then, our Romeus, with tender handes ywrong, With voyce, with plaint made horce, with sobs, and with a
foltring tong, Renewd with novel 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 joyes had been so scant, and sorowes aye so ryfe; The time and place of byrth, he fiersly did reprove, He cryed out (with open mouth) against the starres above; The fatall sisters three, he said, had done him wrong, The threed that should not have been sponne they had drawne
foorth too long. 1330 He wished that he [ne] had before this time been borne, Or that as Soone as he wan light, his life he had forlorne....
He blamed all the world, and all he did defye [i347J
But Juliet, for whom he lived, for whom eke would he dye.
When after raging fits, appeased was his rage,
And when his passions (powred forth) gan partly to asswage 1350
So wisely did the fryre unto his tale replye,
That he straight cared for his life, that erst had care to dye.
appendix 11
263
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 women 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.... 1360
[The lovers spend the night in Juliet's bedchamber.,]
But now (somewhat too soone) in farthest East arose        [1703] 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 pale and silver 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 wave doth
sinke. 1710 What cooller then the heavens do shew unto thine eyes, The same, (or like) saw Romeus in farthest Esterne skyes. As yet, he saw no day, he 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 leave 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 joyles Juliet moornes.        1720
Now hugy cloudes of care, of sorow, and of dread,
The clearnes of their gladsome harts hath wholy overspread.
When golden crested Phoebus bosteth him in skye,
And under earth, to scape revenge, his dedly foe doth flye,
Then hath these lovers 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 over sore.
The wery watch discharged, did hye them home to slepe, The warders, and the skowtes were chargde theyr place and
coorse to keepe, '73° And Verone gates awyde, the porters had set open.
264 romeo and juliet
When Romeus had of hys affayres with frier Lawrence spoken,
Warely he walked forth, unknowne of frend or foe,
Clad like a merchant venterer, from top even 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 syre:
And straight in mynd to sojorne there, a lodgeing doth he hyre,
And with the nobler sort he doth himselfe acquaint,
And of his open wrong receaved, the Duke doth heare his
plaint.... 1740
In absence of her knight, the lady no way could [1781] Kepe trewce betwene her greefes and her, though nere so fayne she would;
And though with greater payne she cloked sorowes smart, Yet did her paled face disclose the passions of her hart....
[Juliet's parents decide she is melancholy because she is not yet married.']
And Capilet the maydens sire, within a day or twayne, [1876]
Conferreth with his frendes, for manage 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 up, and wise, her fathers onely heyre. 1880
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 unto the Earle he maketh his behest,
Both of his owne good will, and of his frendly ayde,
To win his wife unto his will, and to perswade the mayde.
The wife dyd joy to heare the joyfull husband say,
How happy hap, how meete a match, he had found out that day,
Ne did she seeke to hyde her joyes within her hart,
But straight she hyeth to Juliet; to her she telles apart, 1890
What happy talke (by meane of her) was past no rather
Betwene the woing Paris, and her carefull loving 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 heaves him to the skyes.
She vauntes his race, and gyftes, that Fortune did him geve,
Wherby (she saith) both she and hers, in great delight shall live.
When Juliet conceived her parentes whole entent,
Wherto, both love, and reasons right, forbod her to assent, 1900
appendix ii 265
Within her selfe she thought, rather then be forsworne, With horses wilde, her tender partes asonder should be tome. Not now with bashfull brow (in wonted wise) she spake, But with unwonted boldnes, straight into these woordes she brake.
Madame, I marvell much, that you so lavasse are Of me your childe, (your jewel once, your onely joy and care,)
As thus to yelde me up, at pleasure of another,
Before you know if I doe like, or els mislike my lover.
Doo what you list, but yet of this assure you still,
If you do as you say you will, I yelde not there untill. 1910
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;...
So deepe this aunswere made the sorowes downe to sinke [1925] Into the mothers brest, that she ne knoweth what to thinke Of these her daughters woords, but all appalde she standes, And up unto the heavens 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. 1930 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 have 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 Juliet.
Arrived in the place, when she her father saw,
Of whom (as much as duety would) the daughter stoode in awe,
The servauntes sent away, (the mother thought it meete),
The wofull daughter all bewept, fell groveling at his feete, 1940
Which she doth washe with teares as she thus groveling lyes:
So fast, and eke so plenteously distill they from her eyes.
When she to call fqr grace her mouth doth think to open,
Muet she is; for sighes and sobs her fearefull talke have broken.
The syre, whose swelling wroth 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) unthankfull and thou disobedient childe;...
266
romeo and juliet
appendix ii
267
Such care thy mother had, so deere thou wert to me, [1961]
That I with long and earnest sute provided have for thee
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, unworthy 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; for want of skill,
Thou dost refuse thy offred weale, and disobay my will. 1970
Even by his strength I sweare, that fyrst did geve me lyfe
And gave me in my youth the strength, to get thee on my wyfe,
Onlesse 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 whatsoever then shall passe, twixt him, my wife, and me,
Not onely will I geve all that I have away
From thee, to those that shall me love, me honor, and obay,
But also too so close, and to so hard a gaole,
I shall thee wed, for all thy life, that sure thou shalt not
fayle 1980 A thousand times a day to wishe for sodayn death, And curse the day, and howre when first thy lunges did geve
thee breath.
Advise thee well, and say that thou art warned now, And thinke not that I speake in sport, or mynd to breake my vowe....
[Juliet consults the Friar.}
When too and fro in mynde he dyvers thoughts had cast, [2061]
With tender pity and with ruth his hart was wonne at last.
He thought he rather would in hasard set his fame,
Then suffer such adultery. Resolving on the same,
Out of his closet straight, he tooke a litele glasse,
And then with double hast retornde where wofull Juliet was;
Whom he hath found welnigh in traunce, scarce drawing breath,
Attending still to heare the newes of lyfe or els of death.
Of whom he did enquire of the appointed day.
On Wensday next (quod Juliet) so doth my father say: 2070
I must geve my consent, but (as I do remember)
The solemne day of mariage is, the tenth day of September.
Deere daughter, quoth the fryer, of good chere see thou be,
For loe, sainct Frauncis of his grace hath shewde a way to me,
By which I may both thee, and Romeus together,
Out of the bondage which you feare assuredly deliver... .
Receive this vyoll small, and keepe it as thine eye, And on thy mariage day before the sunne doe cleare the
skye, 2150 Fill it with water full, up to the very brim, Then drinke it of, and thou shalt feele, throughout eche vayne
and lim
A pleasant slumber slide, and quite dispred at length, On all thy partes, from every part reve all thy kindly strength. Withouten moving thus thy ydle parts shall rest, No pulse shall goe, ne hart once beate within thy hollow brest, But thou shalt lye as she that dyeth in a traunce: Thy kinsmen, and thy trusty frendes shall wayle the sodain chaunce:
Thy corps then will they bring to grave in this church yarde, Where thy forefathers long agoe a costly tombe preparde,    2160 Both for him selfe, and eke for those that should come after, Both deepe it is, and long and large, where thou shall rest my daughter,
Till I to Mantua sende for Romeus, thy knight. Out of the tombe both he and I will take thee forth that night. And when out of thy slepe thou shalt awake agayne, Then mayst thou goe with him from hence, and healed of thy payne,
In Mantua lead with him unknowne a pleasant life, And yet perhaps in time to comme, when cease shall all the strife,
And that the peace is made twixt Romeus and his foes,
My selfe may finde so fit a time these secretes to dysclose,    2170
Both to my prayse, and to thy tender parentes joy,
That daungerles, without reproche, thou shalt thy love enjoy....
[Juliet tells her parents she mill marry Paris.]
At length the wished time of long hoped delight,
(As Paris thought) drew nere, but nere approched heavy
plight. 2280 Against the bridall day the parentes did prepare Such rich attyre, such furniture, such store of dainty fare, That they which did behold the same the night before Did thinke and say, a man could scarcely wishe for any more. Nothing did seeme to deere, the deerest thinges were bought,
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romeo and juliet
2290
And (as the written story saith) in dede there wanted nought, That longd to his degree and honor of his stocke. But Juliet, the whilst, her thoughts within her brest did locke; Even from the trusty nurce, whose secretnes was tryde, The secret counsell of her hart the nurce childe seekes to hide.
For sith, to mocke her dame, she dyd not sticke to lye, She thought no sinne with shew of truth, to bleare her nurces eye. In chamber secretly the tale she gan renew, That at the doore she tolde her dame, as though it had been trew.
The flattring nurce did prayse the fryer for his skill,
And said that she had done right well by wit to order will.
She setteth foorth at large the fathers furious rage,
And eke she prayseth much to her, the second mariage;
And County Paris now she praiseth ten times more,
By wrong, then she her selfe, by right, had Romeus praysde
before.... 2300
These wordes and like, the nurce did speake, in hope to please, But greatly did these wicked wordes the ladies mynde
disease, 2310 But ay she hid her wrath, and seemed well content, When dayly dyd the naughty nurce new argumentes invent. But when the bryde perceved her howre approched nere, She sought (the best she could) to fayne, and temperd so her
cheere,
That by her outward looke, no living wight could gesse
Her inward woe, and yet anew renewde is her distresse.
Unto her chaumber doth the pensive wight repayre,
And in her hand a percher light the nurce beares up the stayre.
In Juliets chamber was her wonted use to lye,
Wherfore her mistres, dreading that she should her work
descrye, 2320 As sone as she began her pallet to unfold, Thinking to lye that night, where she was wont to lye of olde, Doth gently pray her seeke her lodgeing some where els; And lest she crafty should suspect, a ready reason telles. Dere frend (quoth she) you knowe, to morow is the day Of new contract, wherfore this night, my purpose is to pray Unto the heavenly myndes, that dwell above the skyes, And order all the course of thinges, as they can best devyse, That they so smyle upon the doynges of to morow,
appendix ii 269
That all the remnant of my lyfe, may be exempt from
sorow. 2330 Wherfore I pray you leave me here alone this night, But see that you to morow comme before the dawning light, For you must curie my heare, and set on my attyre. And easely the loving nurse, dyd yelde to her desire, For she within her hed dyd cast before no doute; She little knew the close attempt, her nurce childe went about.
The nurce departed once, the chamber doore shut close, Assured that no living wight, her doing myght disclose, She powred forth into the vyole of the fryer, Water, out of a silver ewer, that on the boord stoode by
her. 2340 The slepy mixture made, fayre Juliet doth it hyde, Under her bolster soft, and so unto her bed she hyed: Where divers novel thoughts arise within her hed, And she is so invironed about with deadly dred, That what before she had resolved undoutedly, That same she calleth into doute, and lying doutfully Whilst honest love did strive with dred of dedly payne, With handes ywrong, and weping eyes, thus gan she to complaine.
What, is there any one beneth the heavens hye,
So much unfortunate as I? so much past hope as I? . .. 2350
What doe I knowe (quoth she) if that this powder shall [2361]
Sooner or later then it should or els not woorke at all?
And then my craft descride as open as the day,
The peoples tale and laughing stocke shall I remayne for aye.
And what know I (quoth she) if serpentes odious,
And other beastes and wormes that are of nature venemous,
That wonted are to lurke, in darke caves under grounde,
And commonly, as I have heard, in dead mens tombes are found,
Shall harme me, yea or nay, where I shall lye as ded.
Or how shall I, that alway have in so freshe ayre been
bred, . 237°
Endure the lothsome stinke of such an heaped store Of carkases, not yet consumde, and bones that long before Intombed were, where I my sleping place shall have, Where all my auncesters doe rest, my kindreds common grave? Shall not the fryer and my Romeus, when they come, Fynd me (if I awake before) ystifled in the tombe?
And whilst she in these thoughtes doth dwell somewhat to long,
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romeo and juliet
The force of her ymagining, anon dyd waxe so strong, That she surmysde she saw out of the hollow vaulte, (A griesly thing to looke upon), the carkas of Tybalt, 2380 Right in the selfe same sort, that she few dayes before Had seene him in his blood embrewde, to death eke wounded sore.
And then, when she agayne within her selfe had wayde
That quicke she should be buried there, and by his side be layde,
All comfortles, for she shall living feere have none,
But many a rotten carkas, and full many a naked bone,
Her dainty tender partes gan shever all for dred,
Her golden heares did stand upright, upon her chillish hed.
Then pressed with the feare that she there lived in,
A sweat as colde as mountaine yse, pearst through her tender
skin, 2390 That with the moysture hath wet every part of hers, And more besides, she vainely thinkes, whilst vainely thus she
feares,
A thousand bodies dead have compast her about,
And lest they will dismember her, she greatly standes in dout.
But when she felt her strength began to weare away,
By little and little, and in her hart her feare increased ay,
Dreading that weakenes might, or foolish cowardise,
Hinder the execution of the purposde enterprise,
As she had frantike been, in hast the glasse she caught,
And up she dranke the mixture quite, withouten farther
thought. 2400 Then on her brest she crost her armes long and small, And so, her senses fayling her, into a traunce did fall.
And when that Phoebus bright heaved up his seemely hed, And from the East in open skies his glistring rayes dispred, The nurce unshut the doore, for she the key did keepe, And douting she had slept to long, she thought to breake her
slepe.
Fyrst, softly dyd she call, then lowder thus did crye,
Lady, you Slepe to long, (the Earle) will rayse you by and by,
But wele away, in vayne unto the deafe she calles,
She thinkes to speake to Juliet, but speaketh to the walles. 2410
If all the dredfull noyse, that might on earth be found,
Or on the roaring seas, or if the dredfull thunders sound
Had blowne into her eares, I thinke they could not make,
The sleping wight before the time by any meanes awake:
So were the sprites of lyfe shut up, and senses thrald,
I
appendix ii
271
Wherwith the seely carefull nurce was wondrously apalde. She thought to daw her now as she had donne of olde, But loe, she found her parts were stiffe, and more then marble colde,
Neither at mouth nor nose, found she recourse of breth; Two certaine argumentes were these, of her untimely
death. 2420 Wherfore as one distraught, she to her mother ranne, With scratched face, and heare betorne, but no woord speake
she can.
At last (with much a doe) dead (quoth she) is my childe. Now, out alas (the mother cryde) and as a Tyger wilde, Whose whelpes whilst she is gonne out of her denne to prey, The hunter gredy of his game, doth kill or cary away: So, rageing forth she ranne, unto her Juliets bed, And there she found her derling, and her onely comfort ded. Then shriked she out as lowde, as serve her would her breth, And then (that pity was to heare) thus cryde she out on
death. 2430 Ah cruell death (quoth she) that thus against all right Hast ended my felicitie, and robde my hartes delight, Do now thy worst to me, once wreake thy wrath for all, Even in despite I crye to thee thy vengeance let thou fall. Wherto stay I (alas) since Juliet is gone? Wherto live I since she is dead, except to wayle and mone? Alacke, dere chyld, my teares for thee shall never cease; Even as my dayes of life increase, so shall my plaint increase. Such store of sorow shall afflict my tender hart, That dedly panges when they assayle, shall not augment my
smart. 2440 Then gan she so to sobbe, it seemde her hart would brast, And while she crieth thus, behold the father at the last, The County Paris, and of gentilmen a route, And ladies of Verona towne, and country round about, Both kindreds and alies, thether apace have preast, For by theyr presence there they sought to honor so the feast. But when the heavy newes the bydden geastes did heare, So much they mournd, that who had seene theyr countnance
and theyr cheere, Might easely have judgde, by that that they had seene, That day the day of wrath, and eke of pity to have beene. 2450 But more then all the rest the fathers hart was so Smit with the heavy newes, and so shut up with sodain woe,
272 romeo and juliet
That he ne had the powre his daughter to bewepe, Ne yet to speake, but long is forsd, his teares and plaint to kepe....
The towne of Juliets byrth was wholy busied, [2505] About her obsequies, to see theyr darlyng buried. Now is the parentes myrth quite chaunged into mone, And now to sorow is retornde the joy of every one. And now the wedding weedes for mourning weedes they chaunge,
And Hymene into a Dyrge, alas it seemeth straunge. 2510 In steade of mariage gloves, now funerall gloves they have, And whom they should see maried, they follow to the grave. The feast that should have been of pleasure and of joy, Hath every dish, and cup, fild full of sorow and annoye.
Now throughout Italy this common use they have, That all the best of every stocke are earthed in one grave; For every houshold, if it be of any fame,
Doth bylde a tombe, or digge a vault that beares the housholdes name;
Wherein (if any of that kindred hap to dye)
They are bestowde, els in the same no other corps may lye. 2520
The Capilets her corps in such a one dyd lay,
Where Tybalt slayne of Romeus was layde the other day.
An other use there is, that whosoever dyes,
Borne to their church with open face, upon the beere he lyes
In wonted weede attyrde, not wrapt in winding sheete....
[Romeo's man sees Juliet and goes to Mantua to tell Romeo the news. Friar John is caught by quarantine and fails to deliver the message. Romeo gets the poison and returns to Verona.]
When he approched nere, he warely lighted downe, [2613] And even with the shade of night he entred Verone towne, Where he hath found his man, wayting when he should comme, With lanterne, and with instruments, to open Juliets toomme. Helpe Peter, helpe, quod he, helpe to remove the stone, And straight when I am gone fro thee, my Juliet to bemone, See that thou get thee hence, and on the payne of death, I charge thee that thou comme not nere, whyle I abyde
beneath, 2620 Ne seeke thou not to let thy masters enterprise, Which he hath fully purposed to doe, in any wise. Take there a letter, which, as soone as he shall ryse,
appendix 11 273
Present it in the morning to my loving fathers eyes;
Which unto him perhaps farre pleasanter shall seeme,
Than eyther I do mynd to say, or thy gros[s]e head can deeme.
Now Peter, that knew not the purpose of his hart, Obediently a little way withdrew himselfe apart, And then our Romeus, (the vault stone set upright) Descended downe, and in his hand he bare the candle
light. 2630 And then with piteous eye, the body of his wyfe He gan beholde, who surely was the organ of his lyfe; For whom unhappy now he is, but erst was blyst. He watred her with teares, and then an hundred times her kyst, And in his folded armes, full straightly he her plight, But no way could his greedy eyes be filled with her sight. His fearfull handes he layd upon her stomacke colde, And them on divers parts besyde, the wofull wight did hold. But when he could not fynd the signes of lyfe he sought, Out of his cursed box he drewe the poyson that he bought; 2640 Wherof he gredely devowrde the greater part, And then he cryde with dedly sigh, fetcht from his mourning
hart:
Oh Juliet, of whom the world unwoorthy was,
From which, for worldes unworthines thy worthy gost dyd passe,
What death more pleasant could my hart wish to abyde,
Then that which here it suffreth now, so nere thy frendly syde?
Or els so glorious tombe, how could my youth have craved,
As in one selfe same vaulte with thee haply to be ingraved?
What Epitaph more worth, or halfe so excellent,
To consecrate my memorye, could any man invente, 2650
As this, our mutuell, and our piteous sacrifice
Of lyfe, set light for love.—But while he talketh in this wise,
And thought as yet a while his dolors to enforce,
His tender hart began to faynt, prest with the venoms force,
Which little and little gan to overcomme hys hart,
And whilst his busy eyne he threwe about to every part,
He saw hard by the corce of sleping Juliet,
Bold Tybalts carkas dead, which was not all consumed yet.
To whom (as having life) in this sort speaketh he:
Ah cosin dere Tybalt whereso thy restles sprite now be, 2660
With stretched handes to thee for mercy now I crye,
For that before thy kindly howre I forced thee to dye.
But if with quenched lyfe, not quenched be thine yre,
But with revengeing lust as yet thy hart be set on fyre,
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What more amendes, or cruell wreke desyrest thou To see on me, then this which here is shewd forth to thee now? Who reft by force of armes from thee thy living breath, The same with his owne hand (thou seest) doth poyson himselfe to death.
And for he caused thee in tombe too soone to lye,
Too soone also, yonger then thou, himselfe he layeth by. 2670
These said, when he gan feele the poysons force prevayle,
And little and litde mastred lyfe, for aye begänne to fayle,
Kneeling upon his knees, he said with voyce full lowe.
Lord Christ, that so to raunsome me descendedst long agoe
Out of thy fathers bosome, and in the virgins wombe
Didst put on fleshe, Oh let my plaint out of this hollow toombe,
Perce through the ayre, and graunt my sute may favour finde;
Take pity on my sinnefull and my poore afflicted mynde.
For well enough I know, this body is but clay,
Nought but a masse of sinne, to frayle, and subject to
decay. 2680 Then pressed with extreme greefe, he threw with so great force, His overpressed parts upon his ladies wayled corps, That now his wekened hart, weakened with tormentes past, Unable to abyde this pang, the sharpest and the last, Remayned quite deprived, of sense and kindly strength, And so the long imprisond soule hath freedome wonne at length. Ah cruell death, too soone, too soone was this devorce, Twixt youthfull Romeus heavenly sprite, and his fayre earthy
corse.
The fryer that knew what time the powder had been taken, Knew eke the very instant when the sleper should awaken, 2690 But wondring that he could no kind of aunswer heare, Of letters, which to Romeus his fellow fryer did beare, Out of sainct Frauncis church hymselfe alone dyd fare, And for the opening of the tombe, meete instrumentes he bare. Approching nigh the place, and seeing there the lyght, Great horror felt he in his hart, by straunge and sodaine sight Tyll Peter (Romeus man) his coward hart made bolde, When of his masters being there, the certain newes he tolde. There hath he been (quoth he) this hälfe howre at the least, And in this time I dare well say his plaint hath still
increast. 2700 Then both they entred in, where they (alas) dyd fynde, The bretheles corps of Romeus, forsaken of the mynde; Where they have made such mone, as they may best conceve,
appendix 11 275
That have with perfect frendship loved, whose frend, feerce death dyd reve.
But whilst with piteous playnt, they Romeus fate bewepe, An howre too late fayre Juliet awaked out of slepe, And much amasde to see in tombe so great a light, She wist not if she saw a dreame, or sprite that walkd by night. But cumming to her selfe, she knew them, and said thus: What, fryer Lawrence, is it you? where is my Romeus? 2710 And then the auncient frier, that gready stoode in feare, Lest if they lingred over long, they should be taken there, In few plaine woordes, the whole that was betyde he tolde, And with his fingar shewd his corps out stretched, stiffe, and colde,
And then perswaded her with pacience to abyde This sodain great mischaunce, and sayth that he will soone provyde
In somme religious house for her a quiet place, Where she may spend the rest of lyfe, and where in time percase She may with wisdomes meane, measure her mourning brest, And unto her tormented soule call backe exiled rest. 2720 But loe, as soone as she had cast her ruthfull eye On Romeus face, that pale and wan, fast by her side dyd lye, Straight way she dyd unstop the conduites of her teares, And out they gushe; with cruell hand she tare her golden heares. But when she neither could her swelling sorow swage, Ne yet her tender hart abyde her sickenes furious rage, Falne on his corps, she lay long panting on his face, And then with all her force and strength, the ded corps dyd embrace,
As though with sighes, with sobs, with force and busy payne, She would him rayse, and him restore from death to lyfe
agayne. 2730 A thousand times she kist his mouth as cold as stone, And it unkist agayne as oft, then gan she thus to mone. Ah pleasant prop of all my though tes, ah onely ground Of all the sweete delightes, that yet in all my lyfe I found, Did such assured trust within thy hart repose, That in this place, and at this time, thy churchyarde thou hast
chose,
Betwixt the armes of me, thy perfect loving make?
And thus by meanes of me to ende thy lyfe, and for my sake? ...
And when our Juliet would continue still her mone, [2761]
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The fryer and the servant fled, and left her there alone,
For they a sodayne noyse, fast by the place did heare,
And lest they might be taken there, greatly they stoode in feare.
When Juliet saw her selfe left in the vaulte alone,
That freely she might worke her will, for let or stay was none,
Then once for all, she tooke the cause of all her harmes,
The body dead of Romeus, and claspd it in her armes.
Then she with earnest kisse, sufficiently did prove,
That more then by the feare of death she was attaint by
love. 2770 And then past deadly feare, for lyfe ne had she care, With hasty hand she did draw out the dagger that he ware. O welcome death (quoth she) end of unhappines, That also art beginning of assured happines; Feare not to darte me nowe, thy stripe no longer stay, Prolong no longer now my lyfe, I hate this long delaye, For straight my parting sprite, out of this carkas fled, At ease shall finde my Romeus sprite, among so many ded. And thou my loving lord, Romeus my trusty feer, If knowledge yet doe rest in thee, if thou these woordes dost
heer, 2780 Receve thou her, whom thou didst love so lawfully, That causd (alas) thy violent death although unwillingly; And therfore willingly offers to thee her gost, To thend that no wight els but thou, might have just cause to
boste
Thinjoying of my love, which ay I have reserved,
Free from the rest, bound unto thee, that hast it well deserved:
That so our parted sprites, from light that we see here,
In place of endlesse light and blisse, may ever live yfere.
These said, her ruthlesse hand through gyrt her valiant hart.
Ah, Ladies, helpe with teares to wayle the ladies dedly
smart. 2790 She grones, she stretcheth out her limmes, she shuttes her eyes, And from her corps the sprite doth flye. what should I say? she
dyes. -
The watchemen of the towne, the whilst are passed by, And through the gates the candel light within the tombe they spye:
Wherby they did suppose, inchaunters to be comme,
That with prepared instrumentes had opened wide the tombe,
In purpose to abuse the bodies of the ded,
Which by theyr science ayde abusde, do stand them oft in sted.
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Theyr curious harts desire the trueth herof to know, Then they by certaine steppes descend, where they do fynd
below, 2800 In clasped armes ywrapt the husband and the wyfe, In whom as yet they seemd to see somme certaine markes of lyfe. But when more curiously with leysure they did vew, The certainty of both theyr deathes, assuredly they knew. Then here and there so long with carefull eye they sought, That at the length hidden they found the murthrers so they
thought.
In dongeon depe that night they lodgde them under grounde, The next day do they tell the prince the mischefe that they found.
The newes was by and by throughout the towne dyspred, Both of the takyng of the fryer, and of the two found ded. 2810 Thether might you have seene whole housholdes forth to ronne, For to the tombe where they did heare this wonder straunge was donne,
The great, the small, the riche, the poore, the yong, the olde, With hasty pace do ronne to see, but rew when they beholde, And that the murtherers to all men might be knowne, Like as the murders brute abrode through all the towne was blowne,
The prince did straight ordaine, the corses that wer founde Should be set forth upon a stage, hye raysed from the grounde, Right in the selfe same fourme, (shewde forth to all mens sight) That in the hollow valt they had been found that other
night, 2820 And eke that Romeus man, and fryer Lawrence should Be openly examined, for els the people would Have murmured, or faynd there were some wayghty cause, Why openly they were not calde, and so convict by lawes.
The holy fryer now, and reverent by his age, In great reproche set to the shew upon the open stage, (A thing that ill beseemde a man of silver heares) His beard as why teas mylke he bathes, with great fast-falling
teares:
Whom straight the dredfull Judge commaundeth to declare Both how this murther hath been donne, and who the
murthrers are, 2830 For that he nere the tombe was found at howres unfitte, And had with hym those yron tooles, for such a purpose fitte. The frier was of lively sprite, and free of speche,
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The Judges woordes appald him not, ne were his wittes to seeche.
But with advised heed, a while fyrst did he stay,
And then with bold assured voyce, aloude thus gan he say.
My lordes, there is not one emong you, set togyther,
So that (affection set aside) by wisdome he consider
My former passed lyfe, and this my extreme age,
And eke this heavy sight, the wreke of frantike Fortunes
rage, 2840 But that, amased much, doth wonder at this chaunge, So great, so sodainly befalne, unlooked for, and straunge. For I, that in the space of Ix. yeres and tenne, Since first I did begin, to soone, to leade my lyfe with men, And with the worldes vaine thinges, my selfe I did acquaint, Was never yet, in open place, at any time attaynt With any cryme, in waight, as heavy as a rushe, Ne is there any stander by, can make me gylty blushe, (Although before the face of God, I doe confesse, My selfe to be the sinfulst wretch of all this mighty presse.) 2850 When readiest I am, and likeliest to make My great accompt, which no man els for me shall undertake; When wormes, the earth, and death doe cite me every howre, Tappeare before the judgement seate of everlasting powre, And falling ripe I steppe upon my graves brinke, Even then, am I, most wretched wight, (as eche of you doth
thinke)
Through my most haynous deede, with hedlong sway throwne downe,
In greatest daunger of my lyfe, and domage of renowne....
Thus much I thought to say, to cause you so to know, [2881] That neither these my piteous teares, though nere so fast they flowe,
Ne yet these yron tooles, nor the suspected time, Can justly prove the murther donne, or damne me of the cryme, ...
And then the auncient frier began to make dyscourse, [2915] Even from the first of Romeus, and Juliets amours....
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279
And for the proofe of thys his tale, he doth desyer The Judge, to send forthwith to Mantua for the fryer, To learne his cause of stay, and eke to reade his letter,
[2965]
And more beside, to thend that they might judge his cause the better,
He prayeth them depose the nurce of Juliet,
And Romeus man, whom at unwares besyde the tombe he
met. 2970 Then Peter not so much as erst he was, dysmayd: My lordes (quoth he) too true is all, that fryer Laurence sayd. And when my maister went into my mystres grave, This letter that I offer you, unto me then he gave, Which he himselfe dyd write as I do understand, And charged me to offer them unto his fathers hand. The opened packet doth conteyne in it the same, That erst the skilfull frier said, and eke the wretches name That had at his request, the dedly poyson sold, The price of it, and why he bought, his letters playne have
tolde. 2980 The case unfolded so, and open now it lyes, That they could wish no better proofe, save seeing it with theyr
eyes.
So orderly all thinges were tolde and tryed out,
That in the prease there was not one, that stoode at all in doute.
The wyser sort to councell called by Escalus, Have geven advyse, and Escalus sagely decreeth thus. The nurse of Juliet, is banisht in her age, Because that from the parentes she dyd hyde the mariage, Which might have wrought much good, had it in time been knowne,
Where now by her concealing it, a mischeefe great is
growne; 2990
And Peter, for he dyd obey his masters hest,
In woonted freedome had good leave to lead his lyfe in rest:
Thapothecary, high is hanged by the throte,
And for the paynes he tooke with him, the hangman had his cote.
But now what shall betyde of this gray-bearded syre?
Of fryer Lawrence thus araynde, that good barefooted fryre?
Because that many times he woorthely did serve
The commen welth, and in his lyfe was never found to swerve,
He was discharged quyte, and no marke of defame
Did seeme to blot, or touch at all, the honor of his name. 3000
But of him selfe he went into an Hermitage,
Two myles from Veron towne, where he in prayers past forth his age,
Tyll that from earth to heaven, his heavenly sprite dyd flye.
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Fyve yeres he lived an Hermite, and an Hermite dyd he dye. The straungenes of the chaunce, when tryed was the truth The Montagewes and Capelets hath moved so to ruth, That with their emptyed teares, theyr choler and theyr rage, Was emptied quite, and they whose wrath no wisdom could asswage,
Nor threatning of the prince, ne mynd of murthers donne, At length, (so mighty Jove it would) by pitye they are
wonne. 3010 And lest that length of time might from our myndes remove The memory of so perfect, sound, and so approved love, The bodies dead removed from vaulte where they did dye, In stately tombe, on pillers great, of marble rayse they hye. On every syde above, were set and eke beneath, Great store of cunning Epitaphes, in honor of theyr death. And even at this day the tombe is to be seene, So that among the monumentes that in Verona been, There is no monument more worthy of the sight, Then is the tombe of Juliet, and Romeus her knight. 3020