Forget not what I say, ne tell it any wight, Not to the nurce thou trustest so, as Romeus is thy knight. My fame or shame, his weale or woe that chose thee to his wyfe. As every where is spred of me, but chefely in this towne, Through every lande found out by men, by men inhabited; And to a thousand daungers more, by water and by lande. That by the pleasant thought of passed thinges doth grow, What force the stones, the plants, and metals have to worke, When sodayn daunger forceth me; but yet most cheefly when ynted grave, (Not helping to do any sin that wrekefull Jove forbode.) When love and fond desyre were boyling in my brest, Whence hope and dred by striving thoughts had banishd frendly rest. Know therefore, daughter, that with other gyftes which I Of certain rootes and savory herbes to make a kynd of dowe, And dranke with conduite water, or with any kynd of wine, It doth in halfe an howre astone the taker so, And mastreth all his sences, that he feeleth weale nor woe: And so it burieth up the sprite and living breath, That even the skilful leche would say, that he is slayne by death. The taker, by receiving it, at all not greeved is; From which, according to the quantitie he taketh, The happy happe or yll mishappe of thy affayre doth rest. And on the marriage day, before the sunne doe cleare the skye, Then drink it of, and thou shalt feele throughout eche vayne and lym A pleasant slumber slyde, and quite dispred at length On all thy partes, from every part reve all thy kindly strength; Withouten moving thus thy vdle partes 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 sodayne chaunce; The corps then will they bring to grave in this churcheyarde, 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 may'st thou goe with him from hence; and, healed of thy. payne, In Mantua lead with him unknowne a pleasant lyfe; And yet perhaps in tyme to comme, when cease shall all the stryfe,. And that the peace is made twixt Romeus and his foes, My selfe may finde so fit a time these secretes to disclose, Both to my prayse, and to thy tender parentes joy, That dangerles, without reproche, thou shalt thy love enjoy." To which our Juliet so well her care and wits did bend, Her fainting hart was comforted with hope and pleasant thought;. Yea, if I wist it were a venomous dedly drinke, Rather would I that through my throte the certaine bane should sinke, Then I, not drinking it, into his handes should fall, That hath no part of me as yet, ne ought to have at all. To greatest daunger yeld my selfe, and to the dedly smart,. To come to him on whom my life doth wholly stay, A thousand thankes and more our Juliet gave the frier, She saw her mother in the doore, that with her there would mcete, In mynde to aske if she her purpose yet dyd hold, In mynde also, apart twixt them, her duety to have tolde; "Madame, at sainct Frauncis churche have I this morning byn, Where I did make abode a longer while, percase, Then dewty would; yet have I not been absent from this place This frute have I receaved there;-my hart, erst lyke to dye, For lo! my troubled gost, alas too sore discasde By gostly counsell and advise hath fryer Lawrence easde; By my ungrate and stubborne stryfe I styrred unto yre; Made me another woman now than I had been before. By strength of argumentes he charged so my mynde, That, though I sought, no sure defence my searching thought could finde. So forced I was at length to yeld up witles will, And promist to be ordered by the fryers pray sed skill. Wherefore, albeit, I had rashely, long before, The bed and rytes of mariage for many yeres forswore, Yet mother, now behold your daughter at your will, Ready, if you commaunde her aught, your pleasure to fulfill To go unto my lord and syre, withouten long delay; And shew him, if it pleaseth you, his child is now at last And that I will, God lendeth lyfe, on Wensday next, be prest Where I will, in your hearing, and before my fathers face, And take him for my lord and spouse; thus fully am I bent; The bravest garmentes and the richest jewels there, Which, better him to please, I mynde on Wensday next to weare; Yet might attyre helpe to amende my bewty and my shape." Not halfe a word could she bring forth, but in this joyfull plight syer. With hands and eyes heaved-up he thankes God in his hart, By helping us at nedefull times with wisdomes pretious lore. But is, for somme good torne, unto this holy father bounde. So much, in fayth, his extreme age my frendly hart doth greeve." At Freetowne, where he myndes to make for him a costly feast. But loe, the earle saith, such feasting were but lost, And counsels him till mariage time to spare so great a cost. For then he knoweth well the charges will be great; The whilst, his hart desyreth still her sight, and not his meate. He craves of Capilet that he may straight goe see Fayre Juliet; wherto he doth right willingly agree. The mother, warnde before, her daughter doth prepare; She warneth and she chargeth her that in no wyse she spare As cunning craftsman to the sale do set theyr wares on rew; So secretly unwares to him she stale away his hart, That of his lyfe and death the wily wench hath powre; And now his longing hart thinkes long for theyr appoynted howre, And with importune sute the parents doth he pray The wedlocke knot to knit soone up, and hast the mariage day. The woer hath past forth the fyrst day in this sort, And many other more then this, in pleasure and disport. At length the wished time of long hoped delight (As Paris thought) drew nere; but nere approched heavy plight. Agaynst the brydall day the parentes did prepare Such rich attyre, such furniture, such store of dainty fare, 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 tride, The secret counsell of her hart the nurce-childe seekes to hyde. For sith, to mocke her dame, she did not sticke to lye, She thought no sinne with shew of truth to blear her nurces eye. In chaumber secretly the tale she gan renew, That at the doore she told her dame, as though it had been trew. And said that she had done right well by wit to order will. And eke she prayseth much to her the second marriage; And County Paris now she prayseth ten times more, By wrong, then she her selfe by right had Romeus praysde before. Paris shall dwell there still, Romeus shall not retourne; What shall it boote her all her lyfe to languishe still and mourne. The pleasures past before she must account as gayne; But if he doe retorne-what then?-for one she shall have twayne. The one shall use her as his lawful wedded wyfe; In wanton love with equal joy the other leade his lyfe; And best shall she be sped of any townish dame, Of husband and of paramour to fynde her chaunge of game. 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. And in her hand a percher light the nurce beares up the stayre. Wherefore her mistres, dreading that she should her work descrye, Thinking to lye that night where she was wont to lye of olde, She little knew the close attempt her nurce-child went about: |