And in his shop he saw his boxes were but fewe,

And in his window (of his wares) there was so small a shew; Wherfore our Romeus assuredly hath thought,

What by no friendship could be got, with money should be bought;

For nedy lacke is lyke the poore man to compell

To sell that which the cities lawe forbiddeth him to sell.
Then by the hand he drew the nedy man apart,

And with the sight of glittering gold inflamed hath his hart:
"Take fiftie crownes of gold (quoth he) I geue them thee,
So that, before I part from hence, thou straight deliuer me
Somme poyson strong, that may in lesse than halfe an howre
Kill him whose wretched hap shalbe the potion to deuowre."
The wretch by couetise is wonne, and doth assent

To sell the thing, whose sale ere long, too late, he doth repent.
In haste he poyson sought, and closely he it bounde,

And then began with whispering voyce thus in his eare to rounde:
"Fayr syr, (quoth he,) be sure this is the speeding gere,
And more there is than you shall nede; for halfe of that is there
Will serue, I vndertake, in less than halfe an howre

To kill the strongest man aliue; such is the poysons power."
Then Romeus, somwhat easd of one part of his care,
Within his bosome putteth vp his dere vnthrifty ware.
Retorning home agayne, he sent his man away,

To Verone towne, and chargeth him that he, without delay,
Prouyde both instruments to open wyde the toombe,

And lightes to shew him Juliet; and stay, (till he shall comme,)
Nere to the place whereas his louing wyfe doth rest,
And chargeth him not to bewray the dolours of his brest.
Peter, these heard, his leaue doth of his maister take;
Betyme he commes to towne, such hast the paynfull man did

make:

And then with busy care he seeketh to fulfill,

But doth dysclose vnto no wight his wofull maisters will.
Would God, he had herein broken his maisters hest!

Would God, that to the fryer he had disclosed all hys brest!
But Romeus the whyle with many a dedly thought
Prouoked much, hath caused ynke and paper to be brought,
And in few lynes he dyd of all his loue dyscoorse,
How by the friers helpe, and by the knowledge of the noorse,
The wedlocke knot was knyt, and by what meane that night
And many moe he dyd enioy his happy hartes delight ;
Where he the poyson bought, and how his lyfe should ende;
And so his wailefull tragedy the wretched man hath pend.
The letters closd and seald, directed to his syre,

He locketh in his purse, and then a post-hors doth he hyre.

When he approched nere, he warely lighted downe,

And euen 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 remoue 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 while I abyde beneath,
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 soon as he shall ryse,
Present it in the morning to my louing fathers eyes;
Which vnto him perhaps farre pleasanter shall seeme,
Than eyther I do mynd to say, or thy grose 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.
And then with piteous eye the body of his wyfe

He gan beholde, who surely was the organ of his lyfe;
For whom vnhappy 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 layde upon her stomacke colde,

And them on diuerse parts besyde the woefull 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;
Whereof he gredely deuowrde the greater part,

And then he cryde, with dedly sigh fetcht from his mourning hart

"Oh Juliet, of whom the world vnwoorthy was,

From which, for worldes vnworthines 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 haue craued,
As in one selfe same vaulte with thee haply to be ingraued ?
What Epitaph more worth, or halfe so excellent,

To consecrate my memorye, could any man inuente,

As this our mutuell and our piteõus sacrifice

Of lyfe, set light for loue?"-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 ouercomme hys hart,

And whilst his busy eyne he threwe about to euery part,

He saw, hard by the corce of sleping Juliet,

Bold Tybalts carkas dead, which was not all consumed yet.
To whom, (as hauing life,) in this sort speaketh he :
"Ah cosin dere, Tybalt, where so thy restles sprite now be,
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 reuenging lust as yet thy hart be set on fyre,
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 liuing breath, The same with his owne hand, (thou seest,) dost 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."
These sayd, when he gan feele the poysons force preuayle,
And little and little mastred lyfe for aye beganne to fayle,
Kneeling vpon his knees, he said with voyce full lowe,-
"Lord Christ, that so to raunsome me descendest 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, aud graunt my sute may
fauour finde;
Take pity on my sinnefull and my poore affected mynde!
For well enough I know, this body is but clay,

Nought but a masse of sinne, to frayle and subiect to decaye."
Then pressed with extreme greefe he threw with so great force
His overpressed parts vpon his ladies wayled corse,

That now his wekened hart, weakened with tormentes past,
Vnable to abyde this pang, the sharpest and the last,
Remayned quite depriued of sense and kindly strength,
And so the long imprisoned soule hath freedome wonne at
length.

Ah cruell death, too soone, too soone was this deuorce,
Twixt youthfull Romeus heauenly 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: But wondring that he could no kinde 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 halfe howre at the least,
And in this time, I dare well say, his plaint hath still increast."
Then both they entered in, where they (alas!) dyd fynde
The bretheles corps of Romeus, forsaken of the mynde ;
Where they haue made such mone, as they may best conceue,
That haue with perfect frendship loued, whose frend feerce death
dyd reue.

But whilst with piteous playnt they Romeus fate bewepe,
An howre too late fayre Juliet awaked out of slepe;*

In the original Italian Novel Juliet awakes from her trance before the death of Romeo, Shakspeare has been arraigned for departing from it, and losing so happy an opportunity of introducing an affecting scene. He was misled, we see, by the piece now before us. The curious reader may perhaps not be displeased to compare the conclusion of this celebrated story as it stands in the Giulietta of Luigi da Porto, with the present poem. It is as follows;

"So favourable was fortune to this his last purpose, that on the evening of the day subsequent to the lady's funeral, undiscovered by any, he entered Verona, and there awaited the coming of night; and now perceiving that all was silent, he betook himself to the monastery of the Minor Friars, where was the vault. The church, where these monks then dwelt, was in the citadel, though since, for what reason I know not, they have transferred their habitation to the Borgo di S. Zeno, in that place which is now called Santo Bernardino; yet is it certain that their former mansion had been inhabited by Saint Francis himself. Near the walls of this church, on the outside, were at that time certain buildings, such as we usually see adjoining to churches, one of which was the ancient sepulcher of the Capelletti family, and in this the fair damsel had been deposited. At this place, about four hours after midnight, Romeo being arrived, and having as a man of superior strength, by force raised the stone which covered the vault, and, with certain wedges, which he had brought with him for that purpose, having so propped it that it could not be fastened down contrary to his desire, he entered and reclosed

the entrance.

"The unhappy youth, that he might behold his lady, had brought with him a dark lantern, which, after closing the vault, he drew forth, and opened; and there, amidst the bones and fragments of many dead bodies, he beheld the fair Juliet lying as if dead. Whence suddenly breaking out into a flood of tears, he thus began: O eyes, which, while it pleased the Heavens, were to my eyes the brightest lights! O lips, by me a thousand times so sweetly kissed, and from whence were heard the words of wisdom! O beauteous breast, in which my heart rejoiced to dwell! where do I now find you, blind, mute, and cold? how without you do I see, do I speak, do I live? Alas, my miserable lady, whither hast thou been conducted by that love, whose will it now is that this narrow space shall both destroy and lodge two wretched lovers! Ah me! an end like this my hope promised not, nor that desire which first inflamed me with love for you! O unfortunate life, why do I support you? and so saying, he covered with kisses her eyes, her lips, her breast, bursting every instant into more abundant lamentation; in the midst of which he cried, Ŏ ye walls, which hang over me, why do you not render my life still more short by crushing me in your ruin? But since death is at all times in our power, it is dastardly to desire it, and not to snatch it: and, with these words, he drew forth from his sleeve the vial of deadly poison, which he had there concealed, and thus proceeded: I know not what destiny

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.

conducts me to die in the midst of my enemies, of those by me slain, and in their sepulcher; but since, O my soul, thus near my love it delights us to die, here let us die! and, approaching to his lips the mortal draught, he received it entire into his bosom; when embracing the beloved maid, and strongly straining her to his breast, he cried,-O thou beauteous body, the utmost limit of all my desires, if after the soul is departed, any sentiment yet remains in you, or if that soul now beholds my cruel fate, let it not be displeasing to you, that, unable to live with you joyfully and openly, at the least I should die with you sadly and secretly ;—and holding the body straitly embraced, he awaited death.

"The hour was now arrived, when by the natural heat of the damsel the cold and powerful effects of the powder should have been overcome, and when she should awake; and accordingly, embraced and violently agitated by Romeo, she awoke in his arms, and, starting into life, after a heavy sigh, she cried, Alas, where am I? who is it thus embraces me? by whom am I thus kissed? and, believing it was the Frier Lorenzo; she exclaimed, Do you thus, O friar, keep your faith with Romeo? is it thus you safely conduct me to him? Romeo, perceiving the lady to be alive, wondered exceedingly, and thinking perhaps on Pigmalion, he said, Do you not know me, O my sweet lady? see you not that I am your wretched spouse, secretly and alone come from Mantua to perish by you? Julietta, seeing herself in the monument, and perceiving that she was in the arms of one who called himself Romeo, was well nigh out of her senses, and pushing him a little from her, and gazing on his face, she instantly knew him, and embracing gave him a thousand kisses, saying, what folly has excited you, with such imminent danger, to enter here? Was it not sufficient to have understood by my letters how I had contrived, with the help of Friar Lorenzo, to feign death, and that I should shortly have been with you? The unhappy youth, then perceiving his fatal mistake, thus began: O miserable lot! O wretched Romeo! O, by far the most afflicted of all lovers! On this subject never have I received your letters! and he then proceeded to inform her how Pietro had given him intelligence of her pretended death, as if it had been real, whence, believing her dead, he had, in order to accompany her in death, even there close by her, taken the poison, which, as most subtile, he already felt, had sent forth death through all

his limbs.

"The unfortunate damsel hearing this, remained so overpowered with grief, that she could do nothing but tear her lovely locks, and beat and bruise her innocent breast; and at length to Romeo, who already lay supine, kissing him often, and pouring over him a flood of tears, more pale than ashes, and trembling all over, she thus spoke: Must you then, Ô lord of my heart, must you then die in my presence, and through my means! and will the heavens permit that I should survive you, though but for a moment? Wretched me! O, that I could at least transfer my life to you, and die alone!-to which, with a languid voice, the youth replied: If ever my faith and my love were dear to you, live, O my best hope! by these I conjure you, that after my death, life should not be displeasing to you, if for no other reason, at least that you may think on him, who, penetrated with passion, for your sake, and before your dear eyes now perishes! To this the damsel answered: If for my pretended death you now die, what ought I to do for yours which is real? It only grieves me that here in your presence, I have not the means of death, and, inasmuch as I survive you, I detest myself! yet still will I hope