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Loe, here a fielde (she shewd a fieeld-bed ready dight)
Where you may, if you list, in armes reuenge yourselfe by fight.
Wherto these louers both gan easely assent,

And to the place of mylde reuenge with pleasant cheere they went,

Where they were left alone-(the nurce is gone to rest)
How can this be? they restless lye, ne yet they feele vnrest.
I graunt that I enuie the blisse they liued in;

Oh that I might haue found the like! I wish it for no sin,
But that I might as well with pen their ioyes depaynt,
As heretofore I haue displayd their secret hidden playnt.
Of shyuering care and dred I haue felt many a fit,

But Fortune such delight as theyrs dyd neuer graunt me yet.
By proofe no certain truth can I vnhappy write,

But what I gesse by likelihod, that dare I to endite.

The blyndfold goddesse that with frowning face doth fraye, And from theyr seate the mighty kinges throwes down 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 loue, be god of pleasant sport,

I think, O Romeus, Mars himselfe enuies thy happy sort.

Ne Venus iustly might (as I suppose) repent,

If in thy stead, (O Juliet,) this pleasant time she spent. This passe they foorth the night, in sport, in ioly game; The hastines of Phoebus steeds in great despyte they blame. 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 louers parts embrace.

The mariage thus made vp, and both the parties pleasd,
The nigh approche of days retoorne these seely soles diseasd.
And for they might no while in pleasure passe theyr time,
Ne leysure had they much to blame the hasty mornings crime,
With friendly kisse in armes of her his leaue he takes,
And euery other night, to come, a solemne othe he makes,
By one selfe meane, and eke to come at one selfe howre:
And so he doth, till Fortune list to sawse his sweete with sowre.
But who is he that can his present state assure?

And say vnto himselfe, thy ioyes shall yet a day endure?
So wavering fortunes whele, her chaunges be so straunge;
And euery wight y-thralled is by fate vnto her chaunge:
Who raignes so ouer all, that eche man hath his part,
(Although not aye, perchaunce, alike) of pleasure and of smart.

For after many ioyes some fecle but little payne,
And from that little greefe they toorne to happy ioy againe.
But other somme there are, that liuing long in woe,

At length they be in quiet ease, but long abide not so;
Whose greefe is much increast by myrth that went before,
Because the sodayne chaunge of thinges doth make it seeme the

more.

Of this vnlucky sorte our Romeus is one,

For all his hap turnes to mishap, and all his myrth to mone.
And ioyfull Juliet another leafe must toorne;

As woont she was, (her ioyes bereft) she must begin to moorne.
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 heaued to the skies,
By enuious Fortune ouerthrowne, on earth now groueling lyes.
She payd theyr former greefe with pleasures doubled gayne,
But now, for pleasures vsury, ten folde redoubleth payne.

The prince could neuer cause those housholds so agree,
But that some sparcles of their wrath as yet remaining bee;
Which lye this while raakd vp in ashes pale and ded,
Till tyme do serue that they agayne in wasting flame may spred.
At holiest times, men say, most heynous crimes are donne;
The morowe after Easter-day the mischiefe new begonne.
A band of Capilets did meete (my hart it rewes)

Within the walles, by Pursers gate, a band of Montagewes.
The Capilets as cheefe a yong man haue chose out,
Best exercisd in feates of armes, and noblest of the rowte,
Our Juliets vnkles sonne, that cliped was Tibalt ;
He was of body tall and strong, and of his courage halt.
They neede no trumpet sounde to byd them geue the charge,
So lowde he cryde with strayned voyce and mouth out-stretched

large:

"Now, now, (quod he,) my frends, our selfe so let vs wreake, That of this dayes reuenge and vs our childrens heyres may speake. Now once for all let vs their swelling pryde asswage;

Let none of them escape aliue,"—then he with furious rage, And they with him, gave charge vpon 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 liue with shame, with prayse did choose

to dye.

The woordes that Tybalt vsd to styrre his folke to yre,
Haue in the brestes of Montagewes kindled a furious fyre.
With Lyons hartes they fight, warely them selfe defende;
To wound his foe, his present wit and force eche one doth bend.

This furious fray is long on eche side stoutly fought, That whether part had got the woorst, full doutfull were the thought.

The

noyse hereof anon throughout the towne doth flye, And parts are taken on euery side; both kinreds thether hye. Here one doth gaspe for breth, his frend bestrideth him; And he hath lost a hand, and he another maymed lym: His leg is cutte whilst he strikes at an other full,

And who he would haue thrust quite through, hath cleft hys cracked skull.

Theyr valiant harts forbode theyr foote to geue the grounde; With vnappauled cheere they tooke full deepe and doutfull

wounde.

Thus foote by foote long while, and shield to shield set fast,
One foe doth make another faynt, but makes him not agast.
And whilst this noyse is ryfe in euery townes mans eare,
Eke, walking with his frendes, the noyse doth wofull Romeus
heare.

With spedy foote he ronnes vnto the fray apace;

With him, those fewe that were with him he leadeth to the place. They pittie much to see the slaughter made so greate,

That wetshod they might stand in blood on eyther side the

streate.

Part frendes, (said he,) part frendes, helpe, frendes, to part the

fray,

And to the rest, enough, (he cryes) now time it is to staye.
Gods farther wrath you styrre, beside the hurt you feele,
And with this new vprore confounde all this our common wele.
But they so busy are in fight, so egar, feerce,

That through theyr eares his sage aduise no leysure had to pearce.
Then lept he in the throng, to part and barre the blowes
As well of those that were his frendes, as of his dedly foes.

As soon as Tybalt had our Romeus espyde,

He threw a thrust at him that would have past from side to side; But Romeus euer went, (douting his foes,) well armde,

So that the swerd, (kept out by mayle,) had nothing Romeus

harmde.

Thou doest me wrong, (quoth he,) for I but part the fraye;
Not dread, but other waighty cause my hasty hand doth stay.
Thou art the cheefe of thine, the noblest eke thou art,
Wherfore leaue of thy malice now, and helpe these folke to part.
Many are hurt, some slayne, and some are like to dye :-
No, coward, traytor boy, (quod he,) straight way I mynd to trye,
Whether thy sugred talke, and tong so smoothely fylde,
Against the force of this my swerd shall serue thee for a shylde.

And then, at Romeus hed a blow he strake so hard

That might haue cloue him to the brayne but for his cunning ward.
It was but lent to him that could repay agayne,

And geue him death for interest, a well-forborne gayne.
Right as a forest bore, that lodged in the thicke,

Pinched with dog, or els with speare ypricked to the quicke,
His bristles stiffe vpright vpon his backe doth set,

And in his fomy mouth his sharp and crooked tuskes doth whet; Or as a Lyon wylde, that rampeth in his rage,

His whelpes bereft, whose fury can no weaker beast asswage ;—
Such seemed Romeus in euery others sight,

When he him shope, of wrong receaude tauenge himself by fight.
Euen as two thunderbolts throwne downe out of the skye,
That through the ayre, the massy earth, and seas, haue powre to

flye;

So met these two, and while they chaunge a blow or twayne, Our Romeus thrust him through the throte, and so is Tybalt

slayne.

Loe here the ende of those that styre a dedly stryfe!

Who thyrsteth after others death, himselfe hath lost his life.
The Capilets are quaylde by Tybalts ouerthrowe,

The courage of the Mountagewes by Romeus fight doth growe.
The townesmen waxen strong, the Prince doth send his force;
The fray hath end. The Capilets do bring the bretheles corce
Before the prince, and craue that cruell dedly payne

May be the guerdon of his falt, that hath their kinsman slaine.

The Montagewes do pleade theyr Romeus voyde of falt;
The lookers on do say, the fight begonne was by Tybalt.
The prince doth pawse, and then geues sentence in a while,
That Romeus, for sleying him, should goe into exyle.
His foes would have him hangde, or sterue in prison strong;
His frendes do think, (but dare not say,) that Romeus hath
Both housholds straight are charged on payne of losing lyfe,
Theyr bloudy weapons layd aside, to cease the styrred stryfe.
This common plage is spred through all the towne anon,
From side to side the towne is fild with murmour and with mone.
For Tybalts hasty death bewayled was of somme,

wrong.

Both for his skill in feates of armes, and for, in time to comme He should, (had this not chaunced,) ben riche and of great powre, To helpe his frendes, and serue the state; which hope within a

howre

Was wasted quite, and he, thus yelding vp his breath,
More then he holpe the towne in lyfe, hath harmde it by his

death.

And other somme bewayle, (but ladies most of all,)
The lookeles lot by Fortunes gylt that is so late befall,
(Without his falt,) vnto the seely Romeus;

For whilst that he from natife land shall liue exyled thus,
From heauenly bewties light and his welshaped parts,

The sight of which was wont, (faire dames,) to glad your youth, full harts,

Shall you be banishd quite, and tyll he do retoorne,

What hope haue you to ioy, what hope to cease to moorne?
This Romeus was borne so much in heauens grace,
Of Fortune and of Nature so beloued, that in his face
(Beside the heauenly bewty glistring ay so bright,
And seemely grace that wonted so to glad the seers sight)
A certain charme was graued by Natures secret arte,
That vertue had to draw to it the loue of many a hart.
So euery one doth wish to beare a parte of payne,
That he released of exyle might straight retorne againe,
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 louer hearing of her louers banishment!
How wayles she Tibalts death, whom she had loued so well!
Her hearty greefe and piteous plaint, cunning I want to tell.
For deluing depely now in depth of depe dispayre,
With wretched sorowes cruell sound she fils the empty ayre;
And to the lowest hell downe falles her heauy crye,
And vp vnto the heauens haight her piteous plaint doth flye.
The waters and the woods of sighes and sobs resounde,
And from the hard resounding rockes her sorowes do rebounde.
Eke from her teary eyne downe rayned many a showre,
That in the garden where she walkd might water herbe and
flowre.

But when at length she saw her selfe outraged so,

Vnto her chaumber there she hide; there, ouerchargd with

wo,

Vpon her stately bed her painfull parts she threw,

And in so wondrous wise began her sorowes to renewe,
That sure no hart so hard (but it of flint had byn,)

But would haue rude the piteous plaint that she did languishe in.
Then rapt out of her selfe, whilst she on euery side
Did cast her restles eye, at length the windowe she espide,
Through which she had with ioye seen Romeus many a time,
Which oft the ventrous knight was wont for Juliets sake to
clyme.

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