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« What doe I knowe, (quoth she) if that this powder shall
long, The force of her ymagining anon doth waxe so strong, That she surmysde she saw, out of the hollow vaulte, (A griesly thing to looke vpon,) the carkas of Tybalt; 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 liuing feere haue none, But many a rotten carkas, and full many a naked bone; Her dainty tender partes gan sheuer all for dred, Her golden heares did stande vpright vpon her chillish hed. Then pressed with the feare that she there liued in, :A sweate as colde as mountaine yse pearst through her tender
skin, That with the moysture hath wet euery part of hers: And more besides, she vainely thinkes, whilst vainely thus she
feares, A thousand bodies dead haue 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 weaknes might, or foolish cowardise, Hinder the execution of the purposde enterprise, As she had frantike been, in hast the glasse she cought, And up she dranke the mixture quite, withouten farther
Then on her brest she crost her armes long and small,
And when that Phoebus bright heaued vp his seemely hed,
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 vnto the deafe she calles, She thinkes to speak to Juliet, but speaketh to the walles. If all the dredfull noyse that might on earth be found, Or on the roaring seas, or if the dredfull thunder's 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 vp, and senses thrald; 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 than marble
colde; Neither at mouth nor nose found she recourse of breth; Two certaine argumentes were these of her vntimely death. 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 adoe,) “ 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 pray, The hunter gredy of his game doth kill or cary away; So rageing forth she ranne vnto her Juliets bed, And there she found her derling and her onely comfort ded. Then shriked she out as lowde as serue her would her breth, And then, (that pity was to heare,) thus cryde she out on death: " 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, Euen in despite I crye to thee, thy vengeance let thou fall. Whereto stay I, (alas!) since Juliet is gone? Whereto liue I since she is dead, except to wayle and mone? Alacke, dere chylde, my teares for thee shall neuer cease; Euen 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.” 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 theyr cheere, .
hold, That all the commen welth did stand in ieopardy; . So vniversall was the plaint, so piteous was the crye. :. For lo, beside her shape and natiue bewties hewe, With which, like as she grew in age, her vertues prayses grewe, She was also so wise, so lowly, and so mylde, That euen from the hory head vnto the witles childe, She wan the hartes of all, so that there was not one, Ne great, ne small, but dyd that day her wretched state bemone.
Whilst Juliet slept, and whilst the other wepen thus, Our fryer Lawrence hath by this sent one to Romeus, A frier of his house, there neuer was a better, He trusted him euen as himselfe to whom he gaue a letter, In which he written had of euery thing at length, That past twixt Juliet and him, and of the powders strength; The next night after that, he willeth him to comme To helpe to take his Juliet out of the hollow toombe, For by that time, the drinke, he saith, will cease to woorke, And for one night his wife and he within his cell shall loorke; Then shall he cary her to Mantua away, (Till 'fickell Fortune fauour him, ) disguisde in mans aray.
This letter closde he sendes to Romeus by his brother; He chargeth him that in no case he geue it any other. :
Apace our frier John to Mantua him hyes;
shonne, Till they that had the care of health theyr fredome should
renew ;) Wherof, as you shall shortly heare, a mischeefe great there
Now throughout Italy this common vse they haue,
houldes name; Wherein, (if any of that kindred hap to dye,) They are bestowde ; els in the same no other corps may lye. The Capilets her corps in such a one dyd lay, Where Tybalt slayne of Romeus was layde the other day. An other vse there is, that whosoever dyes, Borne to their church with open face vpon the beere he lyes, In wonted weede attyrde, not wrapt in winding sheete.. So, as by chaunce he walked abrode, our Romeus man dyd
His maisters wyfe; the sight with sorow straight dyd wounde
death : Eke should his painfull hart a great deal more be eased, And more also, (he vainely thought,) his lady better pleased. Wherfore when he his face hath washt with water cleene, Lest that the staynes of dryed teares might on his cheekes be
seene, And so his sorow should of euery one be spyde, Which he with all his care dyd seeke from every one to hyde, Straight, wery of the house, he walketh forth abrode ; His seruant, at the maisters hest, in chamber styll abode : And then fro streate to streate he wandreth vp and downe, To see if he in any place may fynde, in all the towne, A salue meet for his sore, an oyle fitte for his wounde ; And seeking long, (alac too soone!) the thing he sought, he
founde. An apothecary sate vnbusied at his doore, Who by his heauy countenance he gessed to be poore.