Shakespeare’s Narrative Sources: Italian Novellas and Their European Dissemination

1562 – Modernised

Title Page.The Tragical History of Romeus And Juliet, Written First In Italian By Bandell, And Now In English By Ar. Br. In Aedibus Richardi Tottelli. Cum Privilegio.


Prose address to the reader.To the Reader.

The God of all glory created universally all creatures, to set forth his praise, both those which we esteem profitable in use and pleasure, and also those, which we account noisome, and loathsome. But principally he hath appointed man, the chiefest instrument of his honour, not only for ministering matter thereof in man himself, but as well in gathering out of other the occasions of publishing God’s goodness, wisdom, and power. And in like sort, every doing of man hath by God’s dispensation something, whereby God may, and ought to be honoured. So the good doings of the good, and the evil acts of the wicked, the happy success of the blessed, and the woeful proceedings of the miserable, do in divers sort sound one praise of God. And as each flower yieldeth honey to the bee, so every example ministreth good lessons to the well-disposed mind. The glorious triumph of the continent man upon the lusts of wanton flesh, encourageth men to honest restraint of wild affections the shameful and wretched ends of such as have yielded their liberty thrall to foul desires, teach men to withhold themselves from the headlong fall of loose dishonesty. So, to like effect, by sundry means, the goodman’s example biddeth men to be good, and the evil man’s mischief warneth men not to be evil. To this good end, serve all ill ends of ill beginnings. And to this end (good Reader) is this tragical matter written, to describe unto thee a couple of unfortunate lovers, thralling themselves to unhonest desire, neglecting the authority and advice of parents and friends, conferring their principal counsels with drunken gossips, and superstitious friars (the naturally fit instruments of unchastity) attempting all adventures of peril, for the attaining of their wished lust using auricular confession (the key of whoredom, and treason) for furtherance of their purpose, abusing the honourable name of lawful marriage, to cloak the shame of stolen contracts, finally, by all means of unhonest life, hasting to most unhappy death. This president (good Reader) shall be to thee, as the slaves of Lacedaemon, oppressed with excess of drink, deformed and altered from likeness of men, both in mind, and use of body, were to the free born children, so showed to them by their parents to the intent to raise in them an hateful loathing of so filthy beastliness. Hereunto if you apply it, you shall deliver my doing from offence, and profit yourselves. Though I saw the same argument lately set forth on stage with more commendation than I can look for (being there much better set forth then I have or can do), yet the same matter penned as it is, may serve to like good effect, if the readers do bring with them like good minds, to consider it. Which hath the more encouraged me to publish it, such as it is.  Ar. Br."


Verse address to the reader.       To the Reader.

Amid the desert rocks, the mountain bare,

Brings forth unformed, unlike herself her young:

Nought else but lumps of flesh withouten hair,

In tract of time, her often licking tongue

5Gives them such shape, as doth (ere long) delight

The lookers on: Or when one dog doth shake

With muzzled mouth, the joints too weak to fight.

Or when upright he standeth by his stake,

(A noble crest) or wild in savage wood,

10A dozen dogs one holdeth at a bay,

With gaping mouth, and stained jaws with blood,

Or else, when from the farthest heavens, they

The lodestar are, the weary pilots mark,

In storms to guide to haven the tossed bark.

              15Right so my muse

Hath (now at length) with travail long brought forth

Her tender whelps, her divers kinds of style,

Such as they are, or nought, or little worth,

Which careful travail, and  a longer while,

20May better shape. The eldest of them lo,

I offer to the stake, my youthful work,

Which one reproachful mouth might overthrow:

The rest (unlicked as yet) a while shall lurk,

Till time give strength, to meet  and match in fight

25With slanders whelps. Then shall they tell of strife

Of noble triumphs, and deeds of martial might,

And shall give rules of chaste and honest life.

The while I pray that you with favour blame,

Or rather not reprove the laughing game

             30 Of this my muse.


Argument. [DP:Frame] [BOA:Sommaire] [PAI:Argument] [R&J-Q1:Prologue] [R&J-Q2:Chorus 1]Love hath inflaméd twain by sudden sight,

And both do grant the thing that both desire

They wed in shrift by counsel of a friar.

Young Romeus climbs fair Juliet’s bower by night.

5Three months he doth enjoy his chief delight.

By Tybalt’s rage provokéd unto ire,

He payeth death to Tybalt for his hire.

A banished man he ’scapes by secret flight.

New marriage is offered to his wife.

10She drinks a drink that seems to reave her breath:

They bury her that sleeping yet hath life.

Her husband hears the tidings of her death.

   He drinks his bane. And she with Romeus’ knife,

   When she awakes, herself, alas, she slay’th.


1. Description of Verona. [BAN:1] [BOA:1] [PAI:1]There is beyond the Alps,

   a town of ancient fame,

Whose bright renown yet shineth clear:

   Verona men it name;

Built in a happy time,

   built on a fertile soil,

Maintained by the heavenly fates,

   and by the townish toil

5The fruitful hills above,

   the pleasant vales below,

The silver stream with channel deep,

   that through the town doth flow,

The store of springs that serve

   for use, and eke for ease,

And other more commodities,

   which profit may and please,

Eke many certain signs

   of things betid of old,

10To fill the hungry eyes of those

   that curiously behold,

Do make this town to be

   preferred above  the rest

Of Lombard towns, or at the least,

   compared with the best.

In which while Escalus

   as prince alone did reign,

To reach reward unto the good,

   to pay the lewd with pain,

15 2. The narrator introduces the woeful story he is about to tell. He feels unequal to his writing task. [DP:Frame] [BAN:2] [BOA:2] [PAI:2] Alas, I rue to think,

   an heavy hap befell:

Which Boccace scant, not my rude tongue,

   were able forth to tell.

Within my trembling hand,

   my pen doth shake for fear,

And, on my cold amazéd head,

   upright doth stand my hair.

But sith she doth command,

   whose hest I must obey,

20In mourning verse, a woeful chance

   to tell I will assay.

3. Invocation to the muses.Help, learnéd Pallas, help,

   ye Muses with your art,

Help, all ye damnéd fiends to tell

   of joys returned to smart.

Help eke, ye sisters three,

   my skilless pen t’indite:

For you it caused which I, alas,

   unable am to write.

254. The old grudge between the two families. [DP:1] [BAN:3] [BOA:3] [PAI:3] [R&J-Q1:Prologue] [R&J-Q2:Chorus 1]There were two ancient stocks,

   which Fortune high did place

Above the rest, indued with wealth,

   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 praise, with equal blast,

   Fame in her trumpet blew;

30The one was clepéd Capulet,

   and th’other Montague.

A wonted use it is,

   that men of likely sort,

(I wot not by what fury forced)

   envy each other’s port.

So these, whose equal state

   bred envy pale of hue,

And then, of grudging envy’s root,

   black hate and rancour grew

35As, of a little spark,

   oft riseth mighty fire,

So of a kindled spark of  grudge,

   in flames flash out their ire.

And then their deadly food,

   first hatched of trifling strife,

Did bathe in blood of smarting wounds;

   it reavéd breath and life,

No legend lie I tell,

   scarce yet their eyes be dry,

40That did behold the grisly sight,

   with wet and weeping eye.

5. The Prince’s intervention. [DP:1] [BAN:4] [BOA:4] [PAI:4] [R&J-Q1: 2] [R&J-Q2: 2]But when the prudent prince,

   who there the sceptre held,

So great a new disorder in

   his commonweal beheld;

By gentle mean he sought,

   their choler to assuage;

And by persuasion to appease,

   their blameful furious rage.

45But both his words and time,

   the prince hath spent in vain:

So rooted was the inward hate,

   he lost his busy pain.

When friendly sage advice,

   ne gentle words avail,

By thund’ring threats, and princely power

   their courage ’gan he quail

In hope that when he had

   the wasting flame supprest,

50In time he should quite quench the sparks

   that burned within their breast.

6. Presentation of Romeus and his love for a Veronese girl. [DP:2] [DP:3] [BAN:6] [BAN:7] [BOA:5] [PAI:5]Now whilst these kindreds do

   remain in this estate,

And each with outward friendly show

   doth hide his inward hate:

One Romeus, who was

   of race a Montague,

Upon whose tender chin, as yet,

   no manlike beard there grew,

55Whose beauty and whose shape

   so far the rest did stain,

That from the chief of Verona youth

   he greatest fame did gain,

Hath found a maid so fair

   (he found so foul his hap),

Whose beauty, shape, and comely grace,

   did so his heart entrap

That from his own affairs,

   his thought she did remove;

60Only he sought to honour her,

   to serve her and to love.

To her he writeth oft,

   of messengers are sent,

At length, in hope of better speed,

   himself the lover went,

Present to plead for grace,

   which absent was not found:

And to discover to her eye

   his new receivéd wound.

657. Romeus’ beloved one: her chastity and virtue. [BAN:7] [BOA:5] [PAI:5] [R&J-Q1: 5.c] [R&J-Q2: 5.c]But she that from her youth

   was fostered evermore

With virtue’s food, and taught in school

   of wisdom’s skilful lore

By answer did cut off

   th’affections of his love,

That he no more occasion had

   so vain a suit to move.

So stern she was of cheer,

   for all the pain  he took,

70That, in reward of toil, she would

   not give a friendly look.

And yet how much she did

   with constant mind retire;

8. Romeus suffers unrequited love and wishes to leave Verona. [BAN:8] [BOA:6] [PAI:6]So much the more his fervent mind

   was pricked forth by desire.

But when he many months,

   hopeless of his recure,

Had servéd her, who forcéd not

   what pains he did endure,

75At length he thought to leave

   Verona, and to prove

If change of place might change away

   his ill-bestowéd love;

And speaking to himself,

   thus ’gan he make his moan:

"What booteth me to love and serve

   a fell, unthankful one,

Sith that my humble suit

   and labour sowed in vain,

80Can reap none  other fruit at all

   but scorn and proud disdain?

What way she seeks to go,

   the same I seek to run,

But she the path wherein I tread,

   with speedy flight doth shun.

I cannot live, except

   that near to her I be;

She is aye best content when she

   is farthest off from me.

85Wherefore henceforth I will

   far from her take my flight;

Perhaps mine eye once banished

   by absence from her sight,

This fire of mine, that by

   her pleasant eyne is fed,

Shall little and little wear away,

   and quite at last be dead."

9. Romeus is torn between opposite alternatives, and is prey of despair. [BAN:9] [BOA:7] [PAI:7] [R&J-Q1:5.b] [R&J-Q2:5.b]But whilst he did decree

   this purpose still to keep,

90A contrary, repugnant thought

   sank in his breast so deep,

That doubtful is he now

   which of the twain is best:

In sighs, in tears , in plaint, in care,

   in sorrow and unrest,

He moans the day, he wakes

   the long and weary night;

So deep hath love with piercing hand,

   y-graved her beauty bright

95Within his breast, and hath

   so mastered quite his heart,

That he of force must yield as thrall,

   no way is left to start.

He cannot stay his step,

   but forth still must he run;

He languisheth and melts away,

   as snow against the sun.

10.His kindred and friends are worried about him. [BAN10] [BOA:8] [PAI:8] [R&J-Q1: 4.c] [R&J-Q2:4.c]His kindred and allies

   do wonder what he ails,

100 And each of them in friendly wise

   his heavy hap bewails.

11.A close friend rebukes him and urges him to look at other young ladies. [BAN:11] [BOA:9] [PAI:9] [R&J-Q1:5.d] [R&J-Q2:8] [R&J-Q1:10] [R&J-Q2:8] [R&J-Q1:10]But one among the rest,

   the trustiest of his feres,

Far more than he with counsel filled,

   and riper of his years ,

  ’Gan sharply him rebuke,

   such love to him he bare,

That he was fellow of his smart,

   and partner of his care.

105"What mean’st thou, Romeus,"

   quoth he, "what doting rage

Doth make thee thus consume away

   the best part of thine age,

In seeking her that scorns,

   and hides her from thy sight,

Not forcing all thy great expense,

   ne yet thy honour bright,

Thy tears, thy wretched life,

   ne  thine unspotted truth,

110Which are of force, I ween, to move

   the hardest heart to ruth?

Now for our friendship’s sake,

   and for thy  health, I pray,

That thou henceforth become thine own.

   Oh, give no more away

Unto a thankless wight

   thy precious free estate;

In that thou lovest such a one,

   thou seem’st thyself to hate.

115For she doth love elsewhere,

   and then thy time is lorn,

Or else (what booteth thee to sue?)

   Love’s court she hath forsworn.

Both young thou art of years,

   and high in Fortune’s grace:

What man is better shaped than thou?

   Who hath a sweeter face?

By painful studies’ mean,

   great learning hast thou won;

120Thy parents have none other heir,

   thou art their only son.

What greater grief, trow’st thou,

   what woeful deadly smart

Should so be able to distrain

   thy seely father’s heart,

As in his age to see

   thee plungéd deep in vice,

When greatest hope he hath to hear

   thy virtue's fame arise?

125What shall thy kinsmen think,

   thou cause of all their ruth?

Thy deadly foes do laugh to scorn

   thy ill-employéd youth.

Wherefore my counsel is,

   that thou henceforth begin

To know and fly the error which

   too long thou livedst in.

Remove the veil of love,

   that keeps thine eyes so blind,

130That thou ne canst the ready path

   of thy forefathers find.

But if unto thy will

   so much in thrall thou art,

Yet in some other place bestow

   thy witless wand’ring heart.

Choose out some worthy dame,

   her honour thou and serve,

Who will give ear to thy complaint,

   and pity ere thou starve.

135But sow no more thy pains

   in such a barren soil,

As yields in harvest time no crop,

   in recompense of toil.

Ere long the townish dames

   together will resort;

Some one of beauty, favour, shape,

   and of so lovely port,

With so fast fixéd eye,

   perhaps thou may’st behold,

140That thou shalt quite forget thy love,

   and passions past of old."

12. Romeus follows his friend’s advice and starts to attend feasts and parties. [BAN:12] [BOA:10] [PAI:10]The young man’s listening ear

   received the wholesome sound,

And reason’s truth y-planted so,

   within his head had ground;

That now with healthy cool

   y-tempered is the heat,

And piecemeal wears away the grief

   that erst his heart did fret.

145To his approved friend

   a solemn oath he plight,

At every feast y-kept by day,

   and banquet made by night,

At pardons in the church,

   at games in open street,

And everywhere he would resort

   where ladies wont  to meet;

Eke should his savage heart

   like all indifferently,

150For he would view and judge them all

   with unalluréd eye.

13.The narrator comments on Romeus’ misfortune. How happy had he been,

   had he not been forsworn;

But twice as happy had he been,

   had he been never born.

For ere the moon could thrice

   her wasted horns renew,

False Fortune cast for him, poor wretch,

   a mischief new to brew.

15514. Capulet’s feast at Christmas. [DP:2] [BAN:5] [BAN:13] [BOA:11] [PAI:11] [R&J-Q1:6.c] [R&J-Q2:6.c]The weary winter nights

   restore the Christmas games,

And now the season doth invite

   to banquet townish dames.

And first in Capel’s house,

   the chief of all the kin

Spar’th for no cost, the wonted use

   of banquets to begin.

No lady fair or foul

   was in Verona town,

160No knight or gentleman

   of high or low renown,

But Capulet himself

   hath bid unto his feast,

Or by his name in paper sent,

   appointed as a geast.

Young damsels thither flock,

   of bachelors a rout,

Not so much for the banquet’s sake,

   as beauties to search out.

16515. No Montague is admitted to the feast. Yet Romeus and five more go there masked. At some point they take off their masks. [DP:4] [BAN:13] [BOA:12] [PAI:12] [R&J-Q1:13d] [R&J-Q2:13d]But not a Montague

   would enter at his gate,

(For as you heard, the Capulets

   and they were at debate)

Save Romeus, and he,

   in mask with hidden face,

The supper done, with other five

   did press into the place.

When they had masked awhile,

   with dames in courtly wise,

170All did unmask, the rest did show

   them to their ladies’ eyes;

16. Romeus withdraws to a secluded part of the room. [DP:6] [BAN:14] [BOA:13] [PAI:13]But bashful Romeus

   with shamefast face forsook,

The open press, and him withdrew

   into the chamber’s nook.

17517. Romeus’ beauty is gazed upon by all women. [DP:4] [BAN:15] [BOA:14] [PAI:14] But brighter than the sun,

   the waxen torches shone,

That maugre what he could, he was

   espied of everyone.

But of the women chief,

   their gazing eyes that threw,

To wonder at his sightly shape

   and beauty’s spotless hue,

With which the heavens him had

   and nature so bedecked,

That ladies thought the fairest dames

   were foul in his respect.

18. Everybody wonders about his boldness, but no one dares to challenge him. The narrator wonders why. Everybody gazes on him, and Romeo judges all the beauties. [DP:4] [BAN:15] [BOA:15] [PAI:15] [R&J-Q1:15.d] [R&J-Q2:15.d] And in their head beside,

  another wonder rose,

180How he durst put himself in throng

   among so many foes.

Of courage stout they thought

   his coming to proceed:

And women love an hardy heart,

   as I in stories read.

The Capulets disdain

   the presence of their foe,

Yet they suppress their stirréd ire,

   the cause I do not know:

185Perhaps t’offend their guests

   the courteous knights are loth,

Perhaps they stay from sharp revenge,

   dreading the Prince’s wroth.

Perhaps for that they shamed

   to exercise their rage

Within their house, ’gainst one alone,

   and him of tender age.

They use no taunting talk,

   ne harm him by their deed;

190They neither say, "What mak’st thou here?"

   ne yet they say, "God speed."

So that he freely might

   the ladies view at ease;

And they also beholding him,

   their change of fancies please;

Which Nature had him taught

   to do with such a grace,

That there was none but joyéd at

   his being there in place.

195With upright beam he weighed

   the beauty of each dame,

And judged   who best, and who next her,

   was wrought in Nature’s frame.

  19. Romeus sees a fair maid and falls in love. [BAN:16] [BOA:16] [PAI:16] [R&J-Q1:15.c] [R&J-Q2:15.c]At length he saw a maid,

   right fair, of perfect shape,

Which Theseus or Paris would

   have chosen to their rape.

200Whom erst he never saw;

   of all she pleased him most;

Within himself he said to her,

   “Thou justly may’st thee boast

Of perfect shape’s renown,

   and beauty’s sounding praise,

Whose like ne hath, ne shall be seen,

   ne liveth in our days.”

   20. Romeus forgets about his former beloved one. The narrator comments on his sudden change and the new kindled love with proverbial wisdom. [DP:11] [BAN:17] [BOA:17] [PAI:17] And whilst he fixed on her

   his partial piercéd eye,

His former love, for which of late

   he ready was to die,

205Is now as quite forgot,

   as it had never been:

The proverb saith, “Unminded oft

   are they that are unseen.”

And as out of a plank

   a nail a nail doth drive,

So novel love out of the mind

   the ancient love doth rive.

This sudden kindled fire

   in time is wox so great,

210That only death and both their bloods

   might quench the fiery heat.

21. Romeus feels as in a tempest tossed and does not dare to ask her name. He tries to follow her by sight, and is poisoned by her beauty. [BAN:17] [BOA:18] [PAI:18]When Romeus saw himself

   in this new tempest tossed,

Where both was hope of pleasant port,

   and danger to be lost,

He doubtful, scarcely knew

   what countenance to keep;

In Lethe’s flood his wonted flames

   were quenched and drenchéd deep.

215Yea, he forgets himself,

   ne is the wretch so bold

To ask her name, that without force

   hath him in bondage fold.

Ne how t’unloose his bonds

   doth the poor fool devise,

But only seeketh by her sight

   to feed his hungry eyes:

Through them he swalloweth down

   love’s sweet empoisoned bait:

220How surely are the wareless wrapt

   by those that lie in wait!

So is the poison spread

   throughout his bones and veins,

That in a while, alas, the while,

   it hasteth deadly pains.

22. Juliet sees Romeus and is pierced by Cupid’s arrow (the power of sight). [DP:5] [BAN:18] [BOA:20] [PAI:20]Whilst Juliet, for so

   this gentle damsel hight,

From side to side on every one

   did cast about her sight:

225At last her floating   eyes

   were anchored fast on him,

Who for her sake did banish health

   and freedom from each limb.

  He in her sight did seem

   to pass the rest as far

As Phoebus’ shining beams do pass

   the brightness of a star.

In wait lay warlike Love

   with golden bow and shaft,

230And to his ear with steady hand

   the bowstring up he raft.

Till now she had escaped

   his sharp inflaming dart,

Till now he listed not assault

   her young and tender heart.

His whetted arrow loosed,

   so touched her to the quick,

That through the eye it strake the heart,

   and there the head did stick.

235It booted not to strive,

   for why, she wanted strength;

The weaker aye unto the strong

   of force must yield, at length.

The pomps now of the feast

   her heart ’gins to despise;

And only joyeth when her eyne

   meet with her lover’s eyes.

  23. The two youths look at each other for a while and become aware of mutual love. [BAN:19] [BOA:21] [PAI:21] When their new smitten hearts

   had fed on loving gleams,

240Whilst, passing to and fro their eyes,

   y-mingled were their beams.

Each of these lovers ’gan

   by other’s looks to know,

That friendship in their breast had root,

   and both would have it grow.

   24. Juliet is invited to dance. [BOA:22] [PAI:22] When thus in both their hearts

   had Cupid made his breach

And each of them had sought the mean

   to end the war by speech,

245Dame Fortune did assent

   their purpose to advance,

With torch in hand a comely knight

   did fetch her forth to dance;

She quit herself so well,

   and with so trim a grace,

That she the chief praise won that night

   from all Verona race.

   25. Romeus places himself close to her seat, and on the other side there sits Mercutio, a courteous youth. [BOA:23] [PAI:23] The whilst our Romeus

   a place had warely won,

250Nigh to the seat where she must sit,

   the dance once being done.

Fair Juliet turned to

   her chair with pleasant cheer,

And glad she was her Romeus

   approachéd was so near.

At th’one side of her chair

   her lover Romeo,

And on the other side there sat

   one called Mercutio;

255A courtier that each where

   was highly had in price,

For he was courteous of his speech,

   and pleasant of device.

Even as a lion would

   among the lambs be bold ,

Such was among the bashful maids

   Mercutio to behold .

  26. Juliet’s right hand is seized by Mercutio’s cold hand. [DP:9] [BAN:22] [BOA:24] [PAI:24] With friendly gripe he seized

   fair Juliet’s snowish hand:

260A gift he had that Nature gave

   him in  his swathing band,

That frozen mountain ice

   was never half so cold,

As were his hands, though ne’er so near

   the fire he did them hold.

27. Juliet’s left hand is seized by Romeus. Emotion prevents him from talking to her [DP:9] [BAN:22] [BOA:25] [PAI:25] [R&J-Q1:15.e] [R&J-Q2:15.e] As soon as had the knight

   the virgin’s right hand raught,

Within his trembling hand her left

   hath loving Romeus caught.

265For he wist well himself

   for her abode most pain,

And well he wist she loved him best,

   unless she list to feign.

  28. Juliet presses Romeus’ palm. When she sees him blush, she spurns him on to speak. Roméo declares his love. [DP:10] [BAN:22] [BOA:26] [PAI:26] [R&J-Q1:15.e] [R&J-Q2:15.e]Then she with tender hand

   his tender palm hath pressed;

What joy, trow you, was grafféd so 

   in Romeus’ cloven breast

The sudden sweet delight

   hath stoppéd quite his tongue,

270Ne can he claim of her his right,

   ne crave redress of wrong.

But she espied straightway,

   by changing of his hue

From pale to red, from red to pale,

   and so from pale anew,

That veh’ment love was cause,

   why so his tongue did stay,

And so much more she longed to hear

   what Love could teach him say.

275When she had longéd long,

   and he long held his peace,

And her desire of hearing him,

   by silence did increase,

At last, with trembling voice

   and shamefast cheer, the maid

Unto her Romeus turned herself,

   and thus to him she said:

"O blesséd be the time

   of thy arrival here":

280But ere she could speak forth the rest,

   to her Love drew so near

And so within her mouth,

   her tongue he gluéd fast,

That no one word could ’scape her more

   than what already passed.

In great contented ease

   the young man straight is rapt:

What chance”, quoth he, “un’ware to me,

   O lady mine, is hapt,

285That gives you worthy cause

   my coming here to bliss?”

Fair Juliet was come again

   unto herself by this:

First ruthfully she looked,

   then said with smiling cheer:

Marvel no whit, my heart’s delight,

   my only knight and fere,

Mercutio’s icy hand had

   all-to frozen mine,

290And of thy goodness thou again

   hast warmed it with thine.”

Whereto with stayéd brow,

   ’gan Romeus to reply:

If so the gods have granted me

   such favour from the sky,

That by my being here

   some service I have done

That pleaseth you, I am as glad,

   as I a realm had won.

295O well-bestowéd time,

   that hath the happy hire,

Which I would wish, if I might have,

   my wishéd heart’s desire.

For I of God would crave,

   as price of pains forepast,

To serve, obey, and honour you,

   so long as life shall last;

As proof shall teach you plain,

   if that you like to try

300His faultless truth, that nill for aught

   unto his lady lie.

But if my touched hand

   have warmed yours some deal,

Assure yourself the heat is cold,

   which in your hand you feel,

Compared to such quick sparks

   and glowing furious glead,

As from your beauty’s pleasant eyne,

   Love causéd to proceed;

305Which have so set on fire

   each feeling part of mine,

That lo, my mind doth melt away,

   my outward parts do pine.

And but you help, all whole,

   to ashes shall  I turn;

Wherefore, alas, have ruth on him,

   whom you do force to burn.”

29. They must part but Juliet declares her love and acknowledges Romeus’ own. [BAN:22] [BOA:27] [PAI:27] [R&J-Q1:15.e] [R&J-Q2:15.e]Even with his ended tale,

   the torches’ dance had end,

310And Juliet of force must part

   from her new chosen friend.

His hand she clasped hard,

   and all her parts did shake,

When leisureless with whisp’ring voice

   thus did she answer make:

 “You are no more your own,

   dear friend, than I am yours,

My  honour savéd, pressed t’obey

   your will, while life endures.”

31530. The narrator comments on happy love when blessed by God.Lo, here the lucky lot

   that seld true lovers find,

Each takes away the other’s heart,

   and leaves the own behind.

A happy life is love,

   if God grant from above,

That heart with heart by even weight

   do make exchange of love.

31. Romeus discovers Juliet’s name and laments his lot. [BAN:23] [BOA:28] [PAI:28] [R&J-Q1:15.f] [R&J-Q2:15.f]But Romeus gone from her,

   his heart for care is cold;

320He hath forgot to ask her name

   that hath his heart in hold.

With forgéd careless cheer,

   of one he seeks to know,

Both how she hight, and whence she came,

   that him enchanted so.

So hath he learned her name,

   and know’th she is no geast,

Her father was a Capulet,

   and master of the feast.

325Thus hath his foe in choice

   to give him life or death,

That scarcely can his woeful breast

   keep in the lively breath.

Wherefore with piteous plaint

   fierce Fortune doth he blame,

That in his ruth and wretched plight

   doth seek her laughing game.

And he reproveth Love,

   chief cause of his unrest,

330Who ease and freedom hath exiled

   out of his youthful breast.

Twice hath he made him serve,

   hopeless of his reward;

Of both the ills to choose the less,

   I ween the choice were hard.

First to a ruthless one

   he made him sue for grace,

And now with spur he forceth him

   to run an endless race.

335Amid these stormy seas

   one anchor doth him hold,

He serveth not a cruel one,

   as he had done of old.

And therefore is content,

   and chooseth still to serve,

Though hap should swear that guerdonless

   the wretched wight should sterve.

The lot of Tantalus

   is, Romeus, like to thine;

340For want of food amid his food,

   the miser still doth pine.

32. Juliet discovers Romeus’ name and despairs, giving up sleep. [BAN:24] [BOA:29] [PAI:29] [R&J-Q1:15.h] [R&J-Q2:15.h]As careful was the maid

   what way were best devise

To learn his name, that entertained

   her in so gentle wise,

Of whom her heart received

   so deep, so wide a wound.

An ancient dame she called to her,

   and in her ear ’gan round.

345This old dame in her youth

   had nursed her with her milk,

With slender needle taught her sew,

   and how to spin with silk.

 “What twain are those,” quoth she,

   “which press unto the door,

Whose pages in their hand do bear

   two torches light before?”

And then as each of them

   had of his household name,

350So she him named yet once again,

   the young and wily dame.

  “And tell me, who is he

   with visor in his hand,

That yonder doth in masking weed

   beside the window stand?”

 “His name is Romeus,”

   said she, “a Montague,

Whose father’s pride first stirred the strife

   which both your households rue.”

355The word of Montague

   her joys did overthrow,

And straight instead of happy hope,

   despair began to grow.

 “What hap have I,” quoth she,

   "to love my father’s foe?

What, am I weary of my weal?

   What, do I wish my woe?"

But though her grievous pains

   distrained her tender heart,

360Yet with an outward show of joy

   she cloakéd inward smart;

And of the courtlike dames

   her leave so courtly took,

That none did guess the sudden change

   by changing of her look.

Then at her mother’s hest

   to chamber she her hied,

So well she feigned, mother ne nurse

   the hidden harm descried.

365But when she should have slept,

   as wont she was, in bed,

Not half a wink of quiet sleep

   could harbour in her head.

For lo, an hugy heap

   of divers thoughts arise,

That rest have banished from her heart,

   and slumber from her eyes.

370And now from side to side

   she tosseth and she turns ,

And now for fear she shivereth,

   and now for love she burns.

And now she likes her choice,

   and now her choice she blames,

And now each hour within her head

   a thousand fancies frames.

Sometime in mind to stop

   amid her course begun,

Sometime she vows, what so betide,

   th’attempted race to run.

375Thus danger’s dread and love

   within the maiden fought:

The fight was fierce, continuing long

   by their contrary thought.

In turning maze of love

   she wand’reth to and fro,

Then standeth doubtful what to do,

   lost, overpressed with woe.

How so her fancies cease,

   her tears did never blin,

380With heavy cheer and wringéd hands

   thus doth her plaint begin:

   33. Juliet fears that Romeus might want to dishonour her. [DP:12] [BAN:25] [BOA:30] [PAI:30] “Ah, silly fool,” quoth she,

   “y-caught in subtle snare!

Ah, wretchéd wench, bewrapt in woe!

   Ah, caitiff clad with care!

Whence come these wand’ring thoughts

   to thy unconstant breast?

By straying thus from reason’s law,

   that reave thy wonted rest.

385What if his subtle brain

   to feign have taught his tongue,

And so the snake that lurks in grass

   thy tender heart hath stung?

What if with friendly speech

   the traitor lie in wait,

As oft the poisoned hook is hid,

   wrapt in the pleasant bait?

Oft under cloak of truth

   hath Falsehood served her lust;

390And turned their honour into shame,

   that did so slightly trust.

What, was not Dido so,

   a crowned queen, defamed?

And eke, for such a heinous crime,

   have men not Theseus blamed?

A thousand stories more,

   to teach me to beware,

In Boccace and in Ovid’s books

   too plainly written are.

395Perhaps, the great revenge

   he cannot work by strength,

By subtle sleight, my honour stained,

   he hopes to work at length.

So shall I seek to find

   my father’s foe his game;

So, I befiled, Report shall take

   her trump of black defame,

Whence she with pufféd cheek

   shall blow a blast so shrill

400Of my dispraise, that with the noise

   Verona shall she fill.

Then I, a laughing-stock

   through all the town become,

Shall hide myself, but not my shame,

   within an hollow tomb.”

Straight underneath her foot

   she treadeth in the dust.

Her troublesome thought, as wholly vain,

   y-bred of fond distrust.

40534. Juliet changes her mind and believes that his beauty can only reflect moral integrity. [BAN:26] [BOA:31] [PAI:31] “No, no, by God above,

   I wot it well,” quoth she,

Although I rashly spake before,

   in no wise can it be

That where such perfect shape

   with pleasant beauty rests,

There crooked craft and treason black

   should be appointed guests.

Sage writers say, the thoughts

   are dwelling in the eyne;

410Then sure I am, as Cupid reigns,

   that Romeus is mine.

The tongue the messenger

   eke call they of the mind;

So that I see he loveth me;

   shall I then be unkind?

His face’s rosy hue

   I saw full oft to seek;

And straight again it flashéd forth,

   and spread in either cheek.

415His fixéd heavenly eyne,

   that through me quite did pierce

His thoughts unto my heart, my thought

   they seeméd to rehearse.

What meant his falt’ring tongue

   in telling of his tale?

The trembling of his joints, and eke

   his colour waxen pale?

And whilst I talked with him,

   himself he hath exiled

420Out of himself, a seeméd me,

   ne was I sure beguiled.

Those arguments of love

   Craft wrate not in his face,

But Nature’s hand, when all deceit

   was banished out of place.

What other certain signs

   seek I of his good will?

These do suffice; and steadfast I

   will love and serve him still.

425Till Atropos shall cut

   my fatal thread of life,

So that he mind to make of me

   his lawful wedded wife.

35. Thus she believes that their alliance may help quench the feud. [DP:12] [BAN:27] [BOA:32] [PAI:32]For so perchance this new

   alliance may procure

Unto our houses such a peace

   as ever shall endure.”

36. The narrator comments on the power of self-persuasion.Oh, how we can persuade

   ourself to what we like,

430And how we can dissuade our mind,

   if aught our mind mislike!

Weak arguments are strong,

   our fancies straight to frame

To pleasing things, and eke to shun

   if we mislike the same.

37. At dawn Romeus passes by her house and greets her. [DP:14] [BAN:28] [BOA:33] [PAI:33]The maid had scarcely yet

   ended the weary war,

Kept in her heart by striving thoughts,

   when every shining star

435Had paid his borrowed light,

   and Phoebus spread in skies

His golden rays, which seemed to say,

   now time it is to rise.

And Romeus had by this

   forsaken  his weary bed,

Where restless he a thousand thoughts 

   had forgéd in his head.

And while with ling’ring step

   by Juliet's house he passed,

440And upwards to her windows high

   his greedy eyes did cast,

His love that looked for him

   there ’gan he straight espy.

With pleasant cheer each greeted is;

   she followeth with her eye

His parting steps, and he

   oft looketh back again

But not so oft as he desires;

   warely he doth refrain.

44538. The narrator comments on love free from jealousy.What life were like to love,

   if dread of jeopardy

Y-soured not the sweet, if love

   were free from jealousy!

39. Juliet looks after him when he often passes her house and he looks up at her. [BOA:33] [PAI:33]But she more sure within,

   unseen of any wight,

When so he comes, looks after him

   till he be out of sight.

In often passing so,

   his busy eyes he threw,

450That every pane and tooting hole

   the wily lover knew.

40. Romeus finds a way to get into the garden at night. [BOA:33] [PAI:33]In happy hour he doth

   a garden plot espy,

From which, except he warely walk,

   men may his love descry;

For lo, it fronted full

   upon her leaning place,

Where she is wont to show her heart

   by cheerful friendly face.

455And lest the arbours might

   their secret love bewray,

He doth keep back his forward foot

   from passing there by day;

But when on earth the Night

   her mantle black hath spread;

Well armed he walketh forth alone,

   ne dreadful foes doth dread.

41.The narrator’s proverbial wisdom.Whom maketh Love not bold,

   nay, whom makes he not blind?

46042. Romeus passes by Juliet’s house at night but does not see Juliet and Juliet despairs for not seeing him. The narrator comments on lovers’ apprehension.He reaveth danger’s dread oft-times

   out of the lover’s mind.

By night he passeth here,

   a week or two in vain;

And for the missing of his mark

   his grief hath him nigh slain.

And Juliet that now

   doth lack her heart’s relief,

Her Romeus’ pleasant eyne, I mean,

   is almost dead for grief.

465Each day she changeth hours

   (for lovers keep an hour

When they are sure to see their love

   in passing by their bower).

43. Finally, one night, Juliet sees Romeus and greatly rejoices. [DP:15] [BAN:29] [BOA:34] [PAI:34]Impatient of her woe,

   she happed to lean one night

Within her window, and anon

   the moon did shine so bright

That she espied her love:

   her heart revivéd sprang;

470And now for joy she claps her hands,

   which erst for woe she wrang.

Eke Romeus, when he saw

   his long desiréd sight,

His mourning cloak of moan cast off,

   hath clad him with delight.

Yet dare I say, of both

   that she rejoicéd more:

His care was great, hers twice as great

   was all the time before;

475For whilst she knew not why

   he did himself absent,

Aye doubting both his health and life,

   his death she did lament.

44. The Narrator comments on lovers’ fears.For love is fearful oft

   where is no cause of fear,

And what love fears, that love laments,

   as though it chancéd were.

Of greater cause always

   is greater work y-bred;

480While he nought doubteth of her health,

   she dreads lest he be dead.

45. Although Juliet rejoices more than him, reassured that he is not dead, they love alike.When only absence is

   the cause of Romeus’ smart,

By happy hope of sight again

   he feeds his fainting heart.

What wonder then if he

   were wrapped in less annoy?

What marvel if by sudden sight

   she fed of greater joy

485His smaller grief or joy

   no smaller love do prove;

Ne, for she passed him in both,

   did she him pass in love :

But each of them alike

   did burn in equal flame,

The well-beloving knight and eke

   the well-beloved dame.

46. Juliet asks Romeus how he got there and urges him to go away, being an enemy to her family; Romeus expresses his love. [DP:15] [BAN:30] [BOA:35] [PAI:35] [R&J-Q1:17.d] [R&J-Q2:17-d]Now whilst with bitter tears

   her eyes as fountains run,

490With whispering voice, y-broke with sobs,

   thus is her tale begun:

 “O Romeus, of your life

   too lavish sure you are,

That in this place, and at this time,

   to hazard it you dare.

What if your deadly foes,

   my kinsmen, saw you here?

Like lions wild, your tender parts

   asunder would they tear.

495In ruth and in disdain,

   I, weary of my life,

With cruel hand my mourning heart

   would pierce with bloody knife.

For you, mine own, once dead,

   what joy should I have here?

And eke my honour stained, which I

   than life do hold more dear.”

 “Fair lady mine, dame Juliet,

   my life,” quoth he,

500“Even from my birth committed was

   to fatal sisters three.

They may in spite of foes

   draw forth my lively thread;

And they also, whoso saith nay,

   asunder may it shred.

But who to reave my life,

   his rage and force would bend,

Perhaps should try unto his pain

   how I it could  defend.

505Ne yet I love it so,

   but always for your sake,

A sacrifice to death I would

   my wounded corpse betake.

If my mishap were such,

   that here before your sight,

I should restore again to death,

   of life, my borrowed light,

This one thing and no more

   my parting sprite would rue,

510That part he should before that you

   by certain trial knew

The love I owe to you,

   the thrall I languish in,

And how I dread to lose the gain

   which I do hope to win;

And how I wish for life,

   not for my proper ease,

But that in it you might I love,

   you honour, serve and please,

515Till deadly pangs the sprite

   out of the corpse shall send."

And thereupon he sware an oath,

   and so his tale had end.

47. Juliet asks him if his intention is hon-est, and proposes marriage. [DP:17] [BAN:31] [BOA:36] [PAI:36] [R&J-Q1:17.i] [R&J-Q2:17.i]Now love and pity boil

   in Juliet’s ruthful breast;

In window on her leaning arm

   her weary head doth rest;

Her bosom bathed in tears,

   to witness inward pain,

520With dreary cheer to Romeus

   thus answered she again:

 “Ah, my dear Romeus,

   keep in these words,” quoth she,

"For lo, the thought of such mischance

   already maketh me

For pity and for dread

   well-nigh to yield up breath;

In even balance poiséd are

   my life and eke my death.

525For so my heart is knit,

   yea, made one self  with yours,

That sure there is no grief so small,

   by which your mind endures,

But as you suffer pain,

   so I do bear in part,

Although it lessens not your grief,

   the half of all your smart.

But these things overpast,

   if of your health and mine

530You have respect, or pity aught

   my teary, weeping eyne,

In few unfeigned words

   your hidden mind unfold,

That as I see your pleasant face,

   your heart I may behold.

For if you do intend

   my honour to defile,

In error shall you wander still,

   as you have done this while;

535But if your thought be chaste,

   and have on virtue ground,

If wedlock be the end and mark

   which your desire hath found,

Obedience set aside,

   unto my parents due,

The quarrel eke that long ago

   between our households grew,

Both me and mine I will

   all whole to you betake,

540And following you whereso you go,

   my father’s house forsake.

But if by wanton love

   and by unlawful suit

You think in ripest years to pluck

   my maidenhood’s dainty fruit,

You are beguiled; and now

   your Juliet you beseeks

To cease your suit, and suffer her

   to live among her likes."

54548. Romeus rejoices and tells Juliet that he will ask the friar for advice and will return the following night at the same hour with news. [BOA:37] [PAI:37] [R&J-Q1:17.j] [R&J-Q2:17.j]Then Romeus, whose thought

   was free from foul desire,

And to the top of virtue’s height

   did worthily aspire,

Was filled with greater joy

   than can my pen express,

Or, till they have enjoyed the like,

   the hearer’s heart can guess.

And then with joined hands,

   heaved up into  the skies,

550He thanks the Gods, and from the heavens

   for vengeance down he cries

If he have other thought

   but as his lady spake;

And then his look he turned to her,

   and thus did answer make:

 “Since, lady, that you like

   to honour me so much

As to accept me for your spouse,

   I yield myself for such.

555In true witness whereof,

   because I must depart,

Till that my deed do prove my word,

   I leave in pawn my heart.

To-morrow eke betimes

   before the sun arise,

To Friar Laurence will I wend,

   to learn his sage advice.

He is my ghostly sire,

   and oft he hath me taught

560What I should do in things of weight,

   when I his aid have sought.

And at this self-same hour,

   I plight you here my faith,

I will be here, if you think good,

   to tell you what he saith.”

49. Romeus finds no other satisfaction than pleasant words. [DP:17] [BAN:31] [BOA:38] [PAI:38] [R&J-Q2:17.g]She was contented well;

   else favour found he none

That night at lady Juliet’s hand,

   save pleasant words alone.

56550. Description of the friar as a well-beloved doctor in divinity and very close to Romeus. [DP:20] [BAN:33] [BOA:39] [PAI:39] [R&J-Q1:18.a] [R&J-Q2:18.a]This barefoot friar girt

   with cord his grayish weed,

For he of Francis’ order was,

   a friar, as I read.

Not as the most was he,

   a gross unlearnéd fool,

But doctor of divinity

   proceeded he in school.

The secrets eke he knew

   in Nature’s works that lurk;

570By magic’s art most men supposed

   that he could wonders work.

Ne doth it ill beseem

   divines those skills to know,

If on no harmful deed they do

   such skilfulness bestow;

For justly of no art

   can men condemn the use,

But right and reason’s lore cry out

   against the lewd abuse.

575The bounty of the friar

   and wisdom hath so won

The townsfolks’ hearts, that well nigh all

   to Friar Laurence run

To shrive themselves; the old,

   the young, the great and small;

Of all he is beloved well,

   and honoured much of all.

And, for he did the rest

   in wisdom far exceed,

580The prince by him, his counsel craved,

   was holp at time of need.

Betwixt the Capulets

   and him great friendship grew,

A secret and assuréd friend

   unto the Montague.

Loved of this young man more

   than any other guest,

The friar eke of Verona youth

   aye likéd Romeus best;

585For whom he ever hath

   in time of his distress,

As erst you heard, by skilful lore

   found out his harm’s redress:

51. Romeus tells the friar about his love for Juliet and recounts their encounter. He asks him to marry them. [DP:21] [BAN:34] [BOA:40] [PAI:40] [R&J-Q1:18.c] [R&J-Q2:18.c]To him is Romeus gone,

   ne stay’th he till the morrow;

To him he painteth all his case,

   his passéd joy and sorrow.

How he hath her espied

   with other dames in dance,

590And how that first to talk with her

   himself he did advance;

Their talk and change of looks

   he ’gan to him declare,

And how so fast by faith and troth

   they both y-coupléd are,

That neither hope of life,

   nor dread of cruel death,

Shall make him false his faith to her,

   while life shall lend him breath.

595And then with weeping eyes

   he prays his ghostly sire

To further and accomplish all

   their honest hearts’ desire.

52. The friar tries to dissuade him. [BOA:41] [PAI:41] [R&J-Q1:18.d] [R&J-Q2:18.d]A thousand doubts and moe

   in th’old man’s head arose,

A thousand dangers like to come

   the old man doth disclose,

And from the spousal rites

   he redeth him refrain,

Perhaps he shall be bet advised

  600 within a week or twain.

53. The narrator comments on Romeus’ deafness to all ad-vice. [R&J-Q1:18.e] [R&J-Q2:18.e]Advice is banished quite

   from those that follow love,

Except advice to what they like

   their bending mind do move.

605As well the father might

   have counselled him to stay

That from a mountain’s top thrown down

   is falling half the way

As warn his friend to stop

   amid his race begun,

Whom Cupid with his smarting whip

   enforceth forth to run.

54. At last the friar consents as he thinks that the marriage might assuage the feud. [DP:22] [BAN:35] [BOA:42] [PAI:42] [R&J-Q1:18.e] [R&J-Q2:18.e]Part won by earnest suit,

   the friar doth grant at last;

And part, because he thinks the storms,

   so lately overpast,

Of both the households’ wrath,

   this marriage might appease;

610So that they should not rage again,

   but quite for ever cease

The respite of a day

   he asketh to devise

What way were best, unknown, to end

   so great an enterprise.

55. Romeus’ hurry. [R&J-Q1:18.e] [R&J-Q2:18.e]The wounded man that now

   doth deadly pains endure,

Scarce patient tarrieth whilst his leech

   doth make the salve to cure:

615So Romeus hardly  grants

   a short day and a night,

Yet needs he must, else must he want

   his only heart’s delight.

56. The narrator addresses the read-er about Romeus’ and Juliet’s hurry. [R&J-Q1:18.e] [R&J-Q2:18.e]You see that Romeus

   no time or pain doth spare;

Think that the whilst  fair Juliet

   is not devoid of care.

57. The narrator shift his narrative to Juliet and the Nurse pair.Young Romeus poureth forth

   his hap and his mishap

620Into the friar’s breast; but where

   shall Juliet unwrap

The secrets of her heart?

   To whom shall she unfold

Her hidden burning love, and eke

   her thought and cares so cold?

58. Juliet discloses her secret love to the Nurse. [BAN:37] [BOA:43] [PAI:43]The nurse of whom I spake,

   within her chamber lay,

Upon the maid she waiteth still;

   to her she doth bewray

625Her new receivéd wound,

   and then her aid doth crave,

In her, she saith, it lies to spill,

   in her, her life to save.

Not easily she made

   the froward nurse to bow,

But won at length with promised hire,

   she made a solemn vow.

To do what she commands,

   as handmaid of her hest;

630Her mistress’ secrets hide she will

   within her covert breast.

59. The Nurse goes to Romeus and is instructed to accompany Juliet to shrine on Saturday. [BAN:42] [BOA:44] [BOA:45] [PAI:44] [PAI:45] [R&J-Q1:19.e] [R&J-Q2:19.e]To Romeus she goes;

   of him she doth desire

To know the mean of marriage,

   by counsel of the friar.

 “On Saturday,” quoth he,

   “if Juliet come to shrift,

She shall be shrived and marriéd;

   how like you, nurse, this drift?”

635“Now by my truth,” quoth she,

   “God’s blessing have your heart,

For yet in all my life I have

   not heard of such a part.

Lord, how you young men can

   such crafty wiles devise,

If that you love the daughter well,

   to blear the mother’s eyes.

An easy thing it is

   with cloak of holiness

640To mock the seely mother, that

   suspecteth nothing less.

But that it pleaséd you

   to tell me of the case,

For all my many years, perhaps,

   I should have found it scarce.

Now for the rest let me

   and Juliet alone;

To get her leave, some feat excuse

   I will devise anon;

645For that her golden locks

   by sloth have been unkempt,

Or for unwares some wanton dream

   the youthful damsel dreamt,

Or for in thoughts of love

   her idle time she spent,

Or otherwise within her heart

   deservéd to be shent.

I know her mother will

   in no case say her nay;

650I warrant you, she shall not fail

   to come on Saturday.”

60. The Nurse prates about Juliet’s youth and her having been like a mother for her. [R&J-Q1:11.b] [R&J-Q2:11.b]And then she swears to him,

   the mother loves her well;

And how she gave her suck in youth,

   she leaveth not to tell.

 “A pretty babe,” quoth she,

   “it was when it was young;

Lord, how it could full prettily

   have prated with it tongue!

655A thousand times and more

   I laid her on my lap,

And clapped her on the buttock soft,

   and kissed where I did clap.

And gladder then was I

   of such a kiss, forsooth,

Than I had been to have a kiss

   of some old lecher’s mouth.”

And thus of Juliet’s youth

   began this prating nurse,

660And of her present state to make

   a tedious, long discourse.

61. Romeus silences the Nurse by giving her money. [R&J-Q1:19.e] [R&J-Q2:19.e]For though he pleasure took

   in hearing of his love,

The message’ answer seeméd him

   to be of more behove.

But when these beldames sit

   at ease upon their tail,

The day and eke the candle-light

   before their talk shall fail.

665And part they say is true,

   and part they do devise,

Yet boldly do they chat of both,

   when no man checks their lies.

Then he six crowns of gold

   out of his pocket drew,

And gave them her; “A slight reward,”

   quoth he, "and so, adieu."

In seven years twice told

   she had not bowed so low

670Her crooked knees, as now they bow;

   she swears she will bestow

Her crafty wit, her time,

   and all her busy pain,

To help him to his hopéd bliss;

   and, cow’ring down again,

She takes her leave, and home

   she hies with speedy pace;

62. The Nurse gives Juliet the news and praises Romeus. She does not mention the money she has received. [R&J-Q1:20.c] [R&J-Q2:20.c]The chamber door she shuts, and then

   she saith with smiling face:

675“Good news for thee, my girl,

   good tidings I thee bring.

Leave off thy wonted song of care,

   and now of pleasure sing.

For thou may’st hold thyself

   the happiest under sun,

That in so little while, so well,

   so worthy a knight hast won.

The best y-shaped is he,

   and hath the fairest face

680Of all this town, and there is none

   hath half so good a grace:

So gentle of his speech,

   and of his counsel wise”:

And still with many praises more

   she heaved him to the skies.

 “Tell me else what,” quoth she,

   “this evermore I thought;

But of our marriage, say at once,

   what answer have you brought?”

685“Nay, soft,” quoth she, “I fear

   you’re hurt by sudden joy.”

I list not play,” quoth Juliet,

   “although thou list to toy.”

How glad, trow you, was she,

   when she had heard her say,

No farther off than Saturday

   deferréd was the day!

Again the ancient nurse

   doth speak of Romeus,

690“And then,” said she, “he spake to me,

   and then I spake him thus.”

Nothing was done or said

   that she hath left untold,

Save only one, that she forgot,

   the taking of the gold.

 “There is no loss,” quoth she,

   “sweet wench, to loss of time,

Ne in thine age shalt thou repent

   so much of any crime.

695For when I call to mind

   my former passéd youth,

One thing there is which most of all

   doth cause my endless ruth.

At sixteen years I first

   did choose my loving fere,

And I was fully ripe before,

   I dare well say, a year.

The pleasure that I lost,

   that year so overpast,

700A thousand times I have bewept,

   and shall while life doth last.

In faith it were a shame,

   yea, sin it were, y-wis,

When thou may’st live in happy joy,

   to set light by thy bliss.”

63. The Narrator comments on the persuasive power of gold. His address to the reader.She that this morning could

   her mistress’ mind dissuade,

705Is now become an oratress,

   her lady to persuade.

If any man be here

   whom love hath clad with care,

To him I speak; if thou wilt speed,

   thy purse thou must not spare,

Two sorts of men there are,

   seld welcome in at door,

The wealthy sparing niggard, and

   the suitor that is poor.

For glitt’ring gold is wont

   by kind to move the heart;

710And oftentimes a slight reward

   doth cause a more desart.

Y-written have I read,

   I wot not in what book,

There is no better way to fish

   than with a golden hook.

64. Juliet and the Nurse talk about Romeus and devise a stratagem to go to church. The narrator ignores what it is. [R&J-Q1:19.e] [R&J-Q2:19.e]Of Romeus these two

   do sit and chat awhile,

And to themselves they

   laugh how they the mother shall beguile.

715A feat excuse they find,

   but sure I know it not,

And leave for her to go to shrift

   on Saturday she got.

So well this Juliet,

   this wily wench did know

Her mother’s angry hours, and eke

   the true bent of her bow.

65. On Saturday Juliet, the Nurse and a maid go to church. [DP:23] [BAN:46] [BOA:46] [PAI:46]The Saturday betimes,

   in sober weed y-clad,

720She took her leave, and forth she went

   with visage grave and sad.

With her the nurse is sent,

   as bridle of her lust,

With her the mother sends a maid

   almost of equal trust.

Betwixt her teeth the bit

   the jennet now hath caught,

So warely eke the virgin walks,

   her maid perceiveth nought.

725She gazeth not in church

   on young men of the town,

Ne wand’reth she from place to place,

   but straight she kneeleth down

Upon an altar’s step,

   where she devoutly prays,

And there upon her tender knees

   the weary lady stays;

Whilst she doth send her maid

   the certain truth to know,

730If Friar Laurence leisure had

   to hear her shrift, or no.

Out of his shriving place

   he comes with pleasant cheer;

The shamefast maid with bashful brow

   to himward draweth near.

 “Some great offence,” quoth he,

   “you have committed late,

Perhaps you have displeased your friend

   by giving him a mate.”

73566. The friar tells the two women to go hear a mass or two and then return [DP:24] [BAN:48] [BOA:47] [PAI:47]Then turning to the nurse

   and to the other maid,

Go, hear a mass or two,” quoth he,

   "which straightway shall be said.

For, her confession heard,

   I will unto you twain

The charge that I received of you

   restore to you again.”

67. The narrator comments upon Juliet’s satisfaction.What, was not Juliet,

   trow you, right well apaid?

740That for this trusty friar hath changed

   her young mistrusting maid?

I dare well say, there is

   in all Verona none,

But Romeus, with whom she would

   so gladly be alone.

68. The friar confesses them and celebrates the secret marriage. [DP:25] [BAN:49] [BOA:48] [PAI:48] [R&J-Q1:21] [R&J-Q2:21]Thus to the friar’s cell

   they both forth walkéd bin;

He shuts the door as soon as he

   and Juliet were in.

745But Romeus, her friend,

   was entered in before,

And there had waited for his love,

   two hours large and more.

Each minute seemed an hour,

   and every hour a day,

Twixt hope he livéd and despair

   of coming or of stay.

Now wavering hope and fear

   are quite fled out of sight,

750For what he hoped he hath at hand,

   his pleasant, chief delight.

And joyful Juliet

   is healed of all her smart,

For now the rest of all her parts

   have found her straying heart.

Both their confessions first

   the friar hath heard them make.

And then to her with louder voice

   thus Friar Laurence spake:

755“Fair lady Juliet,

   my ghostly daughter dear,

As far as I of Romeus learn,

   who by you standeth here,

  ’Twixt you it is agreed,

   that you shall be his wife,

And he your spouse in steady truth,

   till death shall end your life.

Are you both fully bent

   to keep this great behest?”

760And both the lovers said, it was

   their only heart’s request.

When he did see their minds

   in links of love so fast,

When in the praise of wedlock’s 

   state some skilful talk was past,

When he had told at length

   the wife what was her due,

His duty eke by ghostly talk

   the youthful husband knew;

765How that the wife in love

   must honour and obey,

What love and honour he doth owe,

   and debt that he must pay.

The words pronouncéd were

   which holy church of old

Appointed hath for marriage,

   and she a ring of gold

Received of Romeus;

   and then they both arose.

770To whom the friar then said:

   “Perchance apart you will disclose,

Betwixt yourself alone,

   the bottom of your heart;

Say on at once, for time it is

   that hence you should depart.”

69. Romeus tells Juliet to send the Nurse to him to organise his arrival at night (the cord ladder). [BAN:37] [BAN:38] [BOA:49] [PAI:49] [R&J-Q1:20.c] [R&J-Q2:20.c] [R&J-Q1:19.e] [R&J-Q2:19.e]Then Romeus said to her,

   both loth to part so soon,

Fair lady, send to me again

   your nurse this afternoon.

775Of cord I will bespeak

   a ladder by that time;

By which, this night, while others sleep,

   I will your window climb.

Then will we talk of love

   and of our old despairs,

And then, with longer leisure had,

   dispose our great affairs."

70. After planning to meet, Romeus and Juliet part. [DP:26] [BAN:50] [BOA:50] [PAI:50]These said, they kiss, and then

   part to their fathers’ house,

780The joyful bride unto her home,

   to his eke go’th the spouse:

Contented both, and

   yet both uncontented still,

Till Night and Venus’ child give leave

   the wedding to fulfil.

71. The narrator comments on the lovers’ cares and unrest.The painful soldier, sore

   y-beat with weary war,

The merchant eke that needful things

   doth dread to fetch from far,

785The ploughman that for doubt

   of fierce invading foes,

Rather to sit in idle ease

   than sow his tilt hath chose,

Rejoice to hear proclaimed

   the tidings of the peace;

Not pleasured with the sound so much;

   but, when the wars do cease,

Then ceased are the harms

   which cruel war brings forth:

790The merchant then may boldly fetch

   his wares of precious worth;

Dreadless the husbandman

   doth till his fertile field.

For wealth, her mate, not for herself,

   is peace so precious held:

So lovers live in care,

   in dread, and in unrest,

And deadly war by striving thoughts

   they keep within their breast:

795But wedlock is the peace

   whereby is freedom won

To do a thousand pleasant things

   that should not else be done.

The news of ended war

   these  two have heard with joy,

But now they long the fruit of peace

   with pleasure to enjoy.

  72. The narrator addresses Romeus, wishing him God’s blessing for his arrival at a safe port.In stormy wind and wave,

   in danger to be lost,

800Thy steerless ship, O Romeus,

   hath been long while betossed;

The seas are now appeased,

   and thou, by happy star,

Art come in sight of quiet haven;

   and, now the wrackful bar

Is hid with swelling tide,

   boldly thou may’st resort

Unto thy wedded lady's bed,

   thy long desiréd port.

805God grant, no folly's mist

   so dim thy inward sight,

That thou do miss the channel that

   doth lead to thy delight.

God grant, no danger’s rock,

   y-lurking in the dark,

Before thou win the happy port,

   wrack thy sea-beaten bark.

73. Romeus’ trusty servant prepares the ladder. [BAN:39] [BOA:51] [PAI:51]A servant Romeus had,

   of word and deed so just,

810That with his life, if need required,

   his master would him trust.

His faithfulness had oft

   our Romeus proved of old;

And therefore all that yet was done

   unto his man he told,

Who straight, as he was charged,

   a corden ladder looks,

To which he hath made fast two strong

   and crooked iron hooks.

81574. Juliet sends him the Nurse at twilight and appoints her to watch for Romeus to arrive. [BOA:52] [PAI:52]The bride to send the nurse

   at twilight faileth not,

To whom the bridegroom given hath

   the ladder that he got,

And then to watch for him

   appointeth her an hour;

For whether Fortune smile on him,

   or if she list to lower,

He will not miss to come

   to his appointed place,

820Where wont he was to take by stealth

   the view of Juliet’s face.

75. The narrator comments on their impatience about the arrival of night. [BOA:53] [PAI:53] [R&J-Q1:27.a] [R&J-Q2:27.a]How long these lovers thought

   the lasting of the day,

Let other judge that wonted are

   like passions to assay:

For my part, I do guess

   each hour seems twenty year:

So that I deem, if they might have,

   as of Alcume we hear,

825The sun bound to their will,

   if they the heavens might guide,

Black shade of night and doubled dark

   should straight all over hide.

76. Romeus arrives at Juliet’s chamber and the two lovers embrace. [DP:27] [BAN:51] [BOA:54] [PAI:54]Th’appointed hour is come;

   he, clad in rich array,

Walks toward his desiréd home:

   good fortune guide his way.

Approaching near the place

   from whence his heart had life,

830So light he wox, he leapt the wall,

   and there he spied his wife,

Who in the window watched

   the coming of her lord;

Where she so surely had made fast

   the ladder made of cord,

That dangerless her spouse

   the chamber window climbs,

Where he ere then had wished himself

   above ten thousand times.

835The windows close are shut;

   else look they for no guest;

To light the waxen quarriers,

   the ancient nurse is pressed,

Which Juliet had before

   prepared to be light,

That she at pleasure might behold

   her husband’s beauty bright.

A kerchief white as snow

   ware Juliet on her head,

840Such as she wonted was to wear,

   attire meet for the bed.

As soon as she him spied,

   about his neck she clung,

And by her long and slender arms

   a great while there she hung.

A thousand times she kissed,

   and him unkissed again,

Ne could she speak a word to him,

   though would she ne’er so fain.

845And like betwixt his arms

   to faint his lady is;

She fets a sigh and clappeth close

   her closéd mouth to his;

And ready then to sownd

   she lookéd ruthfully,

That lo, it made him both at once

   to live and eke to die.

These piteous painful pangs

   were haply overpast,

850And she unto herself again

   returnéd home at last.

Then, through her troubled breast,

   even from the farthest part,

An hollow sigh, a messenger,

   she sendeth from her heart.

77. The two lovers reassure each other and promise to love wisely. [BOA:55] [PAI:55]“O Romeus,” quoth she,

   “in whom all virtues shine,

Welcome thou art into this place,

   where from these eyes of mine

855Such teary streams did flow,

   that I suppose well-nigh

The source of all my bitter tears

   is altogether dry.

Absence so pined my heart,

   which on thy presence fed,

And of thy safety and thy health

   so much I stood in dread.

But now what is decreed

   by fatal destiny,

860I force it not; let Fortune do,

   and death, their worst to me.

Full recompensed am I

   for all my passéd harms,

In that the Gods have granted me

   to clasp thee in mine arms."

The crystal tears began

   to stand in Romeus’ eyes,

When he unto his lady’s words

   ’gan answer in this wise:

865"Though cruel Fortune be

   so much my deadly foe,

That I ne can by lively proof

   cause thee, fair dame, to know

How much I am by love

   enthralléd unto thee,

Ne yet what mighty power thou hast,

   by thy desert, on me,

Ne torments that for thee

   I did ere this endure,

870Yet of thus much, ne will I feign,

   I may thee well assure,

The least of many pains

   which of thy absence sprung,

More painfully than death itself

   my tender heart hath wrung.

Ere this, one death had reft

   a thousand deaths away,

But life prolongéd was by hope

   of this desiréd day,

875Which so just tribute pays

   of all my passéd moan,

That I as well contented am

   as if myself alone

Did from the Ocean reign

   unto the sea of Ind.

Wherefore now let us wipe away

   old cares out of our mind.

For as the wretched state

   is now redressed at last,

880So is it skill behind our back

   the curséd care to cast.

Since Fortune of her grace

   hath place and time  assigned,

Where we with pleasure may content

   our uncontented mind,

In Lethes hide we deep

   all grief and all annoy,

Whilst we do bathe in bliss, and fill

   our hungry hearts with joy.

885And, for the time to come,

   let be our busy care

So wisely to direct our love,

   as no wight else be ware;

Lest envious foes by force

   despoil our new delight,

And us throw back from happy state

   to more unhappy plight.”

78. The Nurse urges them to stop talking and waste no more time. [BOA:56] [PAI:56]Fair Juliet began

   to answer what he said,

890But forth in haste the old nurse stepped,

   and so her answer stayed.

 “Who takes not time,” quoth she,

   “when time well offered is,

Another time shall seek for time,

   and yet of time shall miss.

And when occasion serves,

   whoso doth let it slip,

Is worthy sure, if I might judge,

   of lashes with a whip.

89579. The Nurse urges them to go to bed (the site of a love- battlefield.). [BOA:57] [PAI:57]Wherefore if each of you

   hath harmed the other so,

And each of you hath been the cause

   of other’s wailéd woe,

Lo here a field” – she showed

   a field-bed ready dight –

"Where you may, if you list, in arms

   revenge yourself by fight."

Whereto these lovers both

   ’gan easily assent,

900And to the place of mild revenge

   with pleasant cheer they went,

Where they were left alone

   – the nurse is gone to rest.

How can this be? They restless lie,

   ne yet they feel unrest.

80. The narrator avows jealous ignorance of such a bliss which he can hardly describe.I grant that I envy

   the bliss they livéd in;

Oh that I might have found the like,

   I wish it for no sin,

905But that I might as well

   with pen their joys depaint,

As heretofore I have displayed

   their secret hidden plaint.

Of shivering care and dread

   I have felt many a fit,

But Fortune such delight as theirs

   did never grant me yet.

By proof no certain truth

   can I unhappy write,

910But what I guess by likelihood,

   that dare I to indite.

81. Description of their passing the night in jolly game. [DP:27] [BAN:52] [BOA:58] [PAI:58]The blindfold goddess that

   with frowning face doth fray,

And from their seat the mighty kings

   throws down with headlong sway,

Beginneth now to turn

   to these her smiling face;

Needs must they taste of great delight,

   so much in Fortune’s grace.

915If Cupid, god of love,

   be god of pleasant sport,

I think, O Romeus, Mars himself

   envies thy happy sort.

Ne Venus justly might,

   as I suppose, repent,

If in thy stead, O Juliet,

   this pleasant time she spent.

Thus pass they forth the night,

   in sport, in jolly game;

920The hastiness of Phoebus’ steeds

   in great despite they blame.

And now the virgin’s fort

hath warlike Romeus got,

In which as yet no breach was made

   by force of cannon shot,

And now in ease he doth

   possess the hopéd place:

How glad was he, speak you that may

   your lover’s parts embrace.

92582. The lovers blame the arrival of the morning but promise to meet again every night. [DP:27] [BAN:53] [BOA:59] [PAI:59] [R&J-Q1:30.a] [R&J-Q2:30.a]The marriage thus made up,

   and both the parties pleased,

The nigh approach of day’s return

   these seely fools dis-eased.

And for they might no while

   in pleasure pass their time,

Ne leisure had they much to blame

   the hasty morning’s crime,

With friendly kiss in arms

   of her his leave he takes,

930And every other night, to come,

   a solemn oath he makes,

By one self mean, and eke

   to come at one self hour:

And so he doth, till Fortune list

   to sauce his sweet with sour.

83. Uncertainty of life and the wavering of Fortune’s wheel. [DP:28]But who is he that can

   his present state assure?

And say unto himself, thy joys

   shall yet a day endure?

935So wavering Fortune’s wheel,

   her changes be so strange;

And every wight y-thralléd is

   by Fate unto her change,

Who reigns so over all,

   that each man hath his part

(Although not aye, perchance, alike)

   of pleasure and of smart.

For after many joys

   some feel but little pain,

940And from that little grief they turn

   to happy joy again.

But other some there are,

   that, living long in woe,

At length they be in quiet ease,

   but long abide not so;

Whose grief is much increased

   by mirth that went before,

Because the sudden change of things

   doth make it seem the more.

94584. Prefiguration of the two lovers’ mishap. [DP:28] [BOA:60] [PAI:60]Of this unlucky sort

   our Romeus is one,

For all his hap turns to mishap,

   and all his mirth to moan.

And joyful Juliet

   another leaf must turn;

As wont she was, her joys bereft,

   she must begin to mourn.

The summer of their bliss

   doth last a month or twain,

950But winter’s blast with speedy foot

   doth bring the fall again.

Whom glorious Fortune erst

   had heaved to the skies,

By envious Fortune overthrown,

   on earth now grovelling lies.

She paid their former grief

   with pleasure’s doubled gain,

But now for pleasure’s usury,

   tenfold redoubleth pain.

95585. The feud is rekindled: a new brawl breaks the morning after Easter by Purser’s gate. [DP:29] [BAN:55] [BOA:61] [PAI:61] [R&J-Q1:22.b] [R&J-Q2:22.b]The prince could never cause

   those households so agree,

But that some sparkles of their wrath

   as yet remaining be;

Which lie this while raked up

   in ashes pale and dead

Till time do serve that they again

   in wasting flame may spread.

At holiest times, men say,

   most heinous crimes are done;

960The morrow after Easter day

   the mischief new begun.

A band of Capulets

   did meet – my heart it rues –

Within the walls, by Purser’s gate,

   a band of Montagues.

86. Description of Tybalt, chief of the Capulets. [BAN:56] [BOA:62] [PAI:62] [R&J-Q1:19.b] [R&J-Q2:19.b]The Capulets, as chief,

   a young man have chose out,

Best exercised in feats of arms,

   and noblest of the rout,

965Our Juliet’s uncle’s son,

   that clepéd was Tybalt;

He was of body tall and strong,

   and of his courage halt.

87. Tybalt starts the quarrel. [BAN:56] [BOA:63] [PAI:63] [R&J-Q1:22.b] [R&J-Q2:22.b]They need no trumpet sound

   to bid them give the charge,

So loud he cried with strainéd voice

   and mouth outstretchéd large:

"Now, now," quoth he, "my friends,

   ourself so let us wreak,

970That of this day’s revenge and us

   our children’s heirs may speak.

Now once for all let us

   their swelling pride assuage;

Let none of them escape alive."

   Then he, with furious rage,

And they with him, gave charge

   upon their present foes,

And then forthwith a skirmish great

   upon this fray arose.

975For, lo, the Montagues

   thought shame away to fly,

And rather than to live with shame,

   with praise did choose to die.

The words that Tybalt used

   to stir his folk to ire,

Have in the breasts of Montagues

   kindled a furious fire.

With lions’ hearts they fight,

   warely themselves defend;

980To wound his foe, his present wit

   and force each one doth bend.

This furious fray is long

   on each side stoutly fought,

That whether part had got the worst,

   full doubtful were the thought.

The noise hereof anon

   throughout the town doth fly,

And parts are taken on every  side;

   both kindreds thither hie.

985Here one doth gasp for breath,

   his friend bestrideth him;

And he hath lost a hand, and he

   another maiméd limb,

His leg is cut whilst he

   strikes at another full,

And whom he would have thrust quite through,

   hath cleft his crackéd skull.

990Their valiant hearts forbode

   their foot to give the ground;

With unappalléd cheer they took

   full deep and doubtful wound.

Thus foot by foot long while,

   and shield to shield set fast,

One foe  doth make another faint,

   but makes him not aghast.

88. Romeus arrives and tries to part the enemies, yet to no avail. [DP:30] [BAN:57] [BOA:64] [PAI:64] [R&J-Q1:22.c] [R&J-Q2:22.c]And whilst this noise is rife

  in every townsman’s ear,

Eke, walking with his friends, the noise

  doth woeful Romeus hear.

995With speedy foot he runs

  unto the fray apace;

With him, those few that were with

  him he leadeth to the place.

They pity much to see

  the slaughter made so great,

That wetshod they might stand in blood

  on either side the street.

"Part, friends," said he, "part, friends,

  Help, friends, to part the fray,"

1000And to the rest, "Enough," he cries,

   "Now time it is to stay.

God’s farther wrath you stir,

  beside the hurt you feel,

And with this new uproar

  confound all this our common weal."

But they so busy are

  in fight, so eager and fierce,

That through their ears his sage advice

  no leisure had to pierce.

1005Then leapt he in the throng,

  to part and bar the blows

As well of those that were his friends,

  as of his deadly foes.

89. Tybault sees Romeus and attacks him; Romeus tries to assuage him by saying that he has come to stop the fray, yet to no avail. [BAN:58] [BOA:65] [PAI:65] [R&J-Q1:22.d] [R&J-Q2:22.d]As soon as Tybalt had

  our Romeus espied,

He threw a thrust at him that would

  have passed from side to side;

  But Romeus ever went,

  doubting his foes, well armed,

1010So that the sword, kept out by mail,

  hath nothing Romeus harmed.

 “Thou dost me wrong,” quoth he,

   “for I but part the fray;

Not dread, but other weighty cause

  my hasty hand doth stay.

  Thou art the chief of thine,

  the noblest eke thou art,

Wherefore leave off thy malice now,

  and help these folk to part.

1015Many are hurt, some slain,

  and some are like to die.”

90. Tybalt does not listen to Romeo and hits him again. [BAN:59] [BOA:66] [PAI:66]“No, coward, traitor boy,” quoth he,

   “straightway I mind to try,

  Whether thy sugared talk,

  and tongue so smoothly filed,

Against the force of this my sword

  shall serve thee for a shield.”

  And then at Romeus’ head

  a blow he strake so hard,

1020That might have clove him to the brain

  but for his cunning ward.

91. Romeus responds to Tybalt’s attack and kills him. [DP:31] [BAN:60] [BOA:67] [PAI:67] [R&J-Q1:24.a] [R&J-Q2:24.a]It was but lent to him

  that could repay again,

And give him death for interest,

  a well forborne gain.

  Right as a forest boar,

  that lodgéd in the thick,

Pinchéd with dog, or else with spear

  y-prickéd to the quick,

1025His bristles stiff upright

  upon his back doth set,

And in his foamy mouth his sharp

  and crooked tusks doth whet;

  Or as a lion wild

  that rampeth in his rage,

His whelps bereft, whose fury can

  no weaker beast assuage;

  Such seeméd Romeus

  in every other’s sight,

1030When he him shope, of wrong received

  t’avenge himself by fight.

  Even as two thunderbolts

  thrown down out of the sky,

That through the air, the massy earth,

  and seas, have power to fly;

  So met these two, and while

  they change a blow or twain,

Our Romeus thrust him through the throat,

  and so is Tybalt slain.

103592. The narrator draws the moral: whoever seeks to give death seeks to give death loses his own life.Lo, here the end of those

  that stir a deadly strife:

Who thirsteth after other's death,

  himself hath lost his life.

93. The fray is ended by the Prince’s force. [BAN:61] [BOA:68] [PAI:68] [R&J-Q1:25.a] [R&J-Q2:25.a]The Capulets are quailed

  by Tybalt’s overthrow,

The courage of the Montagues

  by Romeus’ sight doth grow.

  The townsmen waxen strong,

  the Prince doth send his force;

1040The fray hath end. The Capulets

  94. The Capulets plead for punishment. [DP:32] [BAN:63] [BOA:70] [PAI:70] [R&J-Q1:26.a] [R&J-Q2:26.a]do bring the breathless corpse

  Before the Prince, and crave

  that cruel deadly pain

May be the guerdon of his fault,

  that hath their kinsman slain.

95. The Montagues defend Romeus. [BAN:64] [BOA:71] [PAI:71] [R&J-Q2:26.b]The Montagues do plead

  their Romeus void of fault;

96. The onlookers blame Tybalt.The lookers-on do say, the fight

  begun was by Tybalt.

104597. The Prince sentences Romeus to exile. [DP:32] [BAN:65] [BOA:72] [PAI:72] [R&J-Q1:26.c] [R&J-Q2:26.c]The Prince doth pause, and then

  gives sentence in a while,

That Romeus for slaying him

  should go into exile.

  His foes would have him hanged,

  or starve in prison strong;

His friends do think, but dare not say,

  that Romeus hath wrong.

98. The Prince sentences the two households to death in case of new fights. [R&J-Q1:2.c] [R&J-Q2:2.c]Both households straight are charged

  on pain of losing life,

1050Their bloody weapons laid aside,

  to cease the stirréd strife.

99. The town bewails the loss of valiant Tybalt. [BAN:66] [BOA:73] [PAI:73]This common plague is spread

  through all the town anon,

From side to side the town is filled

  with murmur and with moan,

  For Tybalt’s hasty death

  bewailéd was of some,

Both for his skill in feats of arms,

  and for, in time to come

1055He should, had this not chanced ,

  been rich and of great power,

To help his friends, and serve the state;

  which hope within an hour

  Was wasted quite, and he,

  thus yielding up his breath,

More than he holp the town in life,

  hath harmed it by his death.

100. The town bewails the lot of Romeus and hope that he may soon return from exile. [BOA:74] [PAI:74]And other some bewail,

  but ladies most of all,

1060The luckless lot by Fortune’s guilt

  that is so late befall,

  Without his fault, unto

  the seely Romeus;

For whilst that he from native land

  shall live exiléd thus,

  From heavenly beauty’s light

  and his well-shapéd parts,

The sight of which was wont, fair dames,

   1065to glad your youthful hearts,

  Shall you be banished quite,

  and till he do return,

What hope have you to joy,

  what hope to cease to mourn?

  This Romeus was born

  so much in heaven’s grace,

Of Fortune and of Nature so

  beloved, that in his face,

  Beside the heavenly beau-

   1070ty glist’ring aye so bright,

And seemly grace that wonted so

  to glad the seer’s sight,

  A certain charm was graved

  by Nature’s secret art,

That virtue had to draw to it

  the love of many a heart.

  So every one doth wish

  to bear a part of pain,

That he releaséd of exile

  might straight return again.

1075101. Description of Juliet’s despair; she retires to her room. [DP:34] [BOA:75] [PAI:75] [R&J-Q1:27.e] [R&J-Q2:27.e]But how doth mourn among

  the mourners Juliet!

How doth she bathe her breast in tears!

  What deep sighs doth she fet!

  How doth she tear her hair!

  Her weed how doth she rent!

How fares the lover hearing of

  her lover’s banishment!

  How wails she Tybalt’s death,

  whom she had loved so well!

1080Her hearty grief and piteous plaint,

  cunning I want to tell.

  For delving deeply now

  in depth of deep despair,

With wretched sorrow’s cruel sound

  she fills the empty air;

  And to the lowest hell

  down falls her heavy cry,

And up unto the heaven’s height

  her piteous plaint doth fly.

1085The waters and the woods

  of sighs and sobs resound,

And from the hard resounding rocks

  her sorrows do rebound.

  Eke from her teary eyne

  down rainéd many a shower,

That in the garden where she walked

  might water herb and flower.

  But when at length she saw

 herself outragéd so,

1090Unto her chamber straight she hied;

  there, overcharged with woe,

  Upon her stately bed

  her painful parts she threw,

And in so wondrous wise began

  her sorrows to renew,

  That sure no heart so hard,

  but it of flint had bin,

But would have rued the piteous plaint

  that she did languish in.

1095Then rapt out of herself,

  whilst she on every side

Did cast her restless eye, at length

  the window she espied,

  Through which she had with joy

  seen Romeus many a time,

Which oft the vent’rous knight was wont

  for Juliet’s sake to climb.

102. Juliet curses the window which has let in Romeus and given her pleasure and deadly sorrow. [BOA:76] [PAI:76]She cried, "O cursed window,

  accursed be every pane,

1100Through which, alas, too soon I raught

  the cause of life and bane;

  If by thy mean I have

  some slight delight received,

Or else such fading pleasure as

  by Fortune straight was reaved,

  Hast thou not made me pay

  a tribute rigorous

Of heapéd grief and lasting care,

  and sorrows dolorous,

1105That these my tender parts,

  which needful strength do lack

To bear so great unwieldy load

  upon so weak a back,

  Oppressed with weight of cares

  and with these sorrows rife,

At length must open wide to death

  the gates of loathéd life;

  That so my weary sprite

  may somewhere else unload

1110His deadly load, and free from thrall

  may seek elsewhere abode

  For pleasant, quiet ease

  and for assuréd rest,

Which I as yet could never find

  but for my more unrest?

103. Juliet is angry with Romeus for breaking the peace between their families and beguiling her. [BOA:77] [PAI:77] [R&J-Q1:27.g] [R&J-Q2:27.g]O Romeus, when first

  we both acquainted were,

When to thy painted promises

  I lent my list’ning ear,

1115Which to the brinks you filled

  with many a solemn oath,

And I them judged empty of guile,

  and fraughted full of troth,

  I thought you rather would

  continue our good will,

And seek t’appease our fathers’ strife,

  which daily groweth still.

  I little weened you would

  have sought occasion how

1120By such an heinous act to break

  the peace and eke your  vow;

  Whereby your bright renown

  all whole y-clipséd is,

And I unhappy, husbandless,

  of comfort robbed and bliss.

  But if you did so much

  the blood of Capels thirst,

Why have you often sparéd min,e

  mine might have quenched it first.

1125Since that so many times

  and in so secret place,

Where you were wont with veil of love

  to hide your hatred’s face.

  My doubtful life hath happed

  by fatal doom to stand

In mercy of your cruel heart,

  and of your bloody hand.

1130What? seemed the conquest which

  you got of me so small?

What? seemed it not enough that I,

  poor wretch, was made your thrall?

  But that you must increase

  it with that kinsman’s blood,

Which for his worth and love to me,

  most in my favour stood

  Well, go henceforth elsewhere,

  and seek another while

Some other as unhappy as I,

  by flattery to beguile.

1135And, where I come, see that

  you shun to show your face,

For your excuse within my heart

  shall find no resting place.

  And I that now, too late,

  my former fault repent,

Will so the rest of weary life

  with many tears lament,

  That soon my joiceless corpse

  shall yield up banished breath,

1140And where on earth it restless lived,

  in earth seek rest by death."

104. Juliet repents the words and blames herself for being unloyal to Romeus. [BOA:78] [PAI:78] [R&J-Q1:27.i] [R&J-Q2:27.i]These said, her tender heart,

  by pain oppresséd sore,

Restrained her tears, and forced her tongue

  to keep her talk in store;

  And then as still she was,

  as if in sownd she lay,

And then again, wroth with herself,

  with feeble voice ’gan say:

1145“Ah, cruel murdering tongue,

  murd’rer of others’ fame,

How durst thou once attempt to touch

  the honour of his name?

  Whose deadly foes do yield

  him due and earnéd praise;

For though his freedom be bereft,

  his honour not decays.

  Why blam’st thou Romeus

  for slaying of Tybalt,

1150Since he is guiltless quite of all,

  and Tybalt bears the fault?

  Whither shall he, alas,

  poor banished man, now fly?

What place of succour shall he seek

  beneath the starry sky?

  Since she pursueth him, and him

  defames by wrong,

That in distress should be his fort,

  and only rampire strong.

1155Receive the recompense,

  O Romeus, of thy wife,

Who, for she was unkind herself,

  doth offer up her life,

  In flames of ire, in sighs,

  in sorrow and in ruth,

So to revenge the crime she did

  commit against thy truth.”

105. Juliet seems to be about to die with anguish. [BOA:79] [PAI:79]These said, she could no more;

  her senses all ’gan fail,

1160And deadly pangs began straightway

  her tender heart assail;

  Her limbs she stretchéd forth,

  she drew no more her breath:

106. Narrator’s comment on Juliet’s signs of present death.Who had been there might well have seen

  the signs of present death.

107. The nurse looks for Juliet and finally finds her in her chamber. [BOA:80] [PAI:80]The nurse that knew no cause

  why she absented her,

Did doubt lest that some sudden grief

  too much tormented her.

1165Each where but where she was

  the careful beldam sought;

Last, of the chamber where she lay

  she haply her bethought;

  Where she with piteous eye

  her nurse-child did behold,

Her limbs stretched out, her outward parts

  as any marble cold.

  The nurse supposed that she

  had paid to death her debt,

1170And then, as she had lost her wits,

  she cried to Juliet:

108. The nurse thinks her dead but then helps her to come round. [BOA:81] [PAI:81]“Ah, my dear heart,” quoth she,

   “how grieveth me thy death!

Alas, what cause hast thou thus soon

  to yield up living breath?”

  But while she handled her,

  and chaféd every part,

She knew there was some spark of life

  by beating of her heart,

1175So that a thousand times

  she called upon her name;

There is no way to help a trance

  but she hath tried the same:

  She openeth wide her mouth,

  she stoppeth close her nose,

She bendeth down her breast, she wrings

  her fingers and her toes,

  And on her bosom cold

  she layeth clothés hot;

1180A warméd and a wholesome juice

  she poureth down her throat.

  At length doth Juliet

  heave faintly up her eyes,

And then she stretcheth forth her arm,

  and then her nurse she spies.

109. Juliet rebukes the nurse for reviving her, as she wants to be dead.But when she was awaked

  from her unkindly trance,

“Why dost thou trouble me,” quoth she,

   “what drove thee, with mischance,

1185To come to see my sprite

  forsake my breathless corpse?

Go hence, and let me die, if thou

  have on my smart remorse.

  For who would see her friend

  to live in deadly pain?

Alas, I see my grief begun

  for ever will remain.

  Or who would seek to live,

  all pleasure being past?

1190My mirth is done, my mourning moan

  for aye is like to last.

  Wherefore since that there is

  none other remedy,

Come, gentle death, and rive my heart

  at once, and let me die.”

110. Juliet discloses the reason of her suffering to the nurse. [BOA:82] [PAI:82]The nurse with trickling tears,

  to witness inward smart,

With hollow sigh fetched from the depth

  of her appalléd heart,

1195Thus spoke to Juliet,

  y-clad with ugly care:

“Good lady mine, I do not know

  what makes you thus to fare;

  Ne yet the cause of your

  unmeasured heaviness.

But of this one I you assure,

  for care and sorrow’s stress,

  This hour large and more

  I thought, so God me save,

1200That my dead corpse should wait on yours

  to your untimely grave.”

 “Alas, my tender nurse

  and trusty friend,” quoth she,

“Art thou so blind that with thine eye

  thou canst not easily see

  The lawful cause I have

  to sorrow and to mourn,

Since those the which I held most dear,

  I have at once forlorn.”

1205111. The nurse reassures Juliet and tells her that Romeus will return from exile soon. [BOA:83] [PAI:83]Her nurse then answered thus:

   “Methinks it sits you ill

To fall in these extremities

  that may you guiltless spill.

  For when the storms of care

  and troubles do arise,

Then is the time for men to know

  the foolish from the wise.

  You are accounted wise,

  a fool am I your nurse;

1210But I see not how in like case

  I could behave me worse.

  Tybalt your friend is dead;

  what, ween you by your tears

To call him back again? think you

  that he your crying hears?

  You shall perceive the fault,

  if it be justly tried,

Of his so sudden death, was in

  his rashness and his pride.

1215Would you that Romeus

  himself had wrongéd so,

To suffer himself causeless to be

  outraged of his foe,

  To whom in no respect

  he ought a place to give?

Let it suffice to thee, fair dame,

  that Romeus doth live,

  And that there is good hope

  that he, within a while,

1220With greater glory shall be called

  home from his hard exile.

  How well y-born he is,

  thyself, I know, canst tell,

By kindred strong, and well allied,

  of all belovéd well.

  With patience arm thyself,

  for though that Fortune’s crime,

Without your fault, to both your griefs,

  depart you for a time,

1225I dare say, for amends

  of all your present pain,

She will restore your own to you,

  within a month or twain,

  With such contented ease

  as never erst you  had;

Wherefore rejoice a while in hope,

  and be no more so sad.

112. The nurse will go to Frair Laurence’s cell to find Romeus, and urges Juliet to be confident. [BOA:84] [PAI:84] [R&J-Q1:27.o] [R&J-Q2:27.o]And that I may discharge

  your heart of heavy care,

1230A certain way I have found out,

  my pains ne will I spare,

  To learn his present state,

  and what in time to come

He minds to do; which known by me,

  you shall know all and some.

  But that I dread the whilst

   your sorrows will you quell,

Straight would I hie where he doth lurk,

  to Friar Laurence’ cell.

1235But if you ’gin eftsoons,

  as erst you did, to mourn,

Whereto go I? you will be dead,

  before I thence  return.

  So I shall spend in waste

  my time and busy pain.

So unto you, your life once lost,

  good answer  comes in vain;

  So shall I rid myself

  with this sharp-pointed knife;

1240So shall you cause your parents dear

  wax weary of their life;

  So shall your Romeus,

  despising lively breath,

With hasty foot, before his time,

  run to untimely death.

  Where, if you can awhile,

  by reason, rage suppress,

I hope at my return to bring

  the salve of your distress.

1245Now choose to have me here

  a partner of your pain,

Or promise me to feed on hope

  till I return again.”

113. Juliet sends the nurse to look for Romeus. [BOA:85] [PAI:85]Her mistress sends her forth,

  and makes a grave behest

With reason’s reign to rule the thoughts

  that rage within her breast.

114. Juliet is tossed between hope and despair.When hugy heaps of harms

  are heaped before her eyes,

1250Then vanish they by hope of ’scape;

  and thus the lady lies

  ’Twixt well assuréd trust,

  and doubtful lewd despair:

Now black and ugly be her thoughts;

  now seem they white and fair.

  As oft in summer tide

  black clouds do dim the sun,

And straight again in clearest sky

  his restless steeds do run,

1255So Juliet’s wand’ring mind

  y-clouded is with woe,

And by and by her hasty thought

  the woes doth overgo.

115. Narrative shift from Juliet to Romeus.But now is time to tell,

  whilst she was tosséd thus,

What winds did drive or haven did hold

  her lover,  Romeus.

116. Romeus hides away and goes to the friar. [DP:35] [BOA:69] [PAI:69]When he had slain his foe

  that ’gan this deadly strife,

1260And saw the furious fray had end

  by ending Tybalt’s life,

  He fled the sharp revenge

  of those that yet did live,

And doubting much what penal doom

  the troubled prince might give,

  He sought somewhere unseen

  to lurk a little space,

And trusty Laurence’ secret cell

  he thought the surest place.

1265117. The friar hides him in a secret place inside his cell, and goes out to learn what has been said.In doubtful hap aye best

  a trusty friend is tried;

The friendly friar in this  distress

  doth grant his friend to hide.

  A secret place he hath,

  well sealed round about,

The mouth of which so close is shut,

  that none may find it out;

  But room there is to walk,

  and place to sit and rest,

1270Beside a bed to sleep upon,

  full soft and trimly drest.

  The floor is planked so,

  with mats it is so warm,

That neither wind nor smoky damps

  have power him aught to harm.

  Where he was wont in youth

  his fair friends to bestow,

There now he hideth Romeus,

  whilst forth he goeth to know

1275Both what is said and done,

  and what appointed pain,

Is publishéd by trumpet’s sound;

  then home he hies again.

118. The nurse arrives at the friar’s cell and is informed by him that that night Romeus will go to Juliet’s room. [BAN:68] [BOA:85] [PAI:85] [R&J-Q1:28.f] [R&J-Q2:28.f]By this, unto his cell

  the nurse with speedy pace

Was come the nearest way; she sought

  no idle resting place.

  The friar sent home the news

  of Romeus’ certain health,

1280 And promise made, what so befell,

  he should that night by stealth

  Come to his wonted place,

  that they in needful wise

Of their affairs in time to come

  might thoroughly devise.

119. The nurse gives the joyful news to Juliet.Those joyful news the nurse

  brought home with merry joy;

And now our Juliet joys to think

  she shall her love enjoy.

1285120. Romeo learns from the Friar that the Prince banished him from Verona and plunges into deep despair. [R&J-Q1:28.a] [R&J-Q2:28.a]The friar shuts fast his door,

  and then to him beneath,

That waits to hear the doubtful news

  of life or else of death,

 “Thy hap,” quoth he, “is good,

  danger of death is none,

But thou shalt live, and do full well,

  in spite of spiteful fone.

  This only pain for thee

  was erst proclaimed aloud,

1290A banished man, thou may’st thee not

  within Verona shroud.”

  These heavy tidings heard,

  his golden locks he tare,

And like a frantic man hath torn

  the garments that he ware.

  And as the smitten deer

  in brakes is walt’ring found,

So wal’treth he, and with his breast

  doth beat  the trodden ground.

1295He rises eft,  and strikes

  his head against the walls,

He falleth down again, and loud

  for hasty death he calls:

121. Romeo threatens to kill himself. [R&J-Q1:28.c] [R&J-Q2:28.c] “Come speedy death,” quoth he,

   "the readiest leech in love;

Since nought can else beneath the sun

  the ground of grief remove,

  Of loathsome life break down

  the hated, staggering stays,

1300Destroy, destroy at once the

  life that faintly yet decays.

  But you, fair dame, in whom

  dame Nature did devise

With cunning hand to work that might

  seem 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.

1305And mighty Jove with speed

  of justice bring them low,

Whose lofty pride, without our guilt,

  our bliss doth overblow.

  And Cupid grant to those

  their speedy wrongs’ redress,

That shall bewail my cruel death

  and pity her distress."

  Therewith a cloud of sighs

  he breathed into the skies,

1310And two great streams of bitter tears

  ran from his swollen eyes.

  These things the ancient friar

  with sorrow saw and heard,

Of such beginning, eke the end,

  the wise man greatly feared.

  But lo, he was so weak,

  by reason of his age,

That he ne could by force repress

  the rigour of his rage.

1315His wise and friendly words

  he speaketh to the air,

For Romeus so vexéd is

  with care and with despair,

  That no advice can pierce

  his close forestoppéd ears;

So now the friar doth take his part

  in shedding ruthful tears.

  With colour pale and wan,

  with arms full hard y-fold,

1320With woeful cheer his wailing friend

  he standeth to behold.

  And then our Romeus

  with tender hands y-wrung,

With voice with plaint made hoarse, with sobs,

  and with a falt’ring tongue,

  Renewed with novel moan

  the dolours of his heart;

His outward dreary cheer bewrayed

  his store of inward smart.

1325First Nature did he blame,

  the author of his life,

In which his joys had been so scant,

  and sorrows aye so rife;

  The time and place of birth

  he fiercely did reprove,

He cried out, with open mouth,

  against the stars above;

  The fatal sisters three,

  he said, had done him wrong,

1330The thread that should not have been spun,

  they had drawn forth too long.

  He wished that he had

  before this time been born,

Or that as soon as he wan light,

  his life he had forlorn.

  His nurse he curséd,

  and the hand that gave him pap,

The midwife eke with tender grip

  that held him in her lap;

1335And then did he complain

  on Venus’ cruel son,

Who led him first unto the rocks

  which he should warely shun:

  By means whereof he lost

  both life and liberty,

And died a hundred times a day,

  and yet could never die.

  Love’s troubles lasten long,

  the joys he gives are short;

1340He forceth not a lover’s pain,

  their earnest is his sport.

  A thousand things and more

  I here let pass to write,

Which unto Love this woeful man

  did speak in great despite.

  On Fortune eke he railed,

  he called her deaf and blind,

Unconstant, fond, deceitful, rash,

  unruthful, and unkind.

1345And to himself he laid

  a great part of the fault,

For that he slew and was not slain,

  in fighting with Tybalt.

  He blamed all the world,

  and all he did defy,

But Juliet for whom he lived,

  for whom eke would he die.

  When after raging fits

  appeaséd was his rage,

1350And when his passions, poured forth,

  ’gan partly to assuage,

  So wisely did the friar

  unto his tale reply,

That he straight cared for his life,

  that erst had care to die.

122. The friar rebukes him. [R&J-Q1:28.d] [R&J-Q2:28.d]Art thou," quoth he, "a man?

  Thy shape saith, so thou art;

Thy crying, and thy weeping eyes

  denote a woman’s heart.

  For manly reason is

  quite from off  thy mind outchased,

And in her stead affections lewd

  and fancies highly placed:

  So that I stood in doubt,

  this hour, at the least,

If thou a man or woman wert,

  or else a brutish beast.

  A wise man in the midst

  of troubles and distress

1360Still stands not wailing present harm,

  but seeks his harm’s redress.

  As when the winter flaws

  with dreadful noise arise,

And heave the foamy swelling waves

  up to the starry skies,

  So that the bruiséd bark

  in cruel seas betost,

Despaireth of the happy haven,

  in danger to be lost,

1365The pilot bold at helm,

  cries, ‘Mates, strike now your sail,’

And turns her stem into the waves

  that strongly her assail;

  Then driven hard upon

  the bare and wrackful shore,

In greater danger to be wracked

  than he had been before,

  He seeth  his ship full right

  against the rock to run,

1370But yet he doth what lieth in him

  the perilous rock to shun:

  Sometimes the beaten boat,

  by cunning government,

The anchors lost, the cables broke,

  and all the tackle spent,

  The rudder smitten off,

  and overboard the mast,

Doth win the long desiréd port,

  the stormy danger past:

1375But if the master dread,

  and overpressed with woe

Begin to wring his hands, and lets

  the guiding rudder go,

  The ship rents on the rock,

  or sinketh in the deep,

And eke the coward drenchéd is:

  so, if thou still beweep

  And seek not how to help

  the changes that do chance,

1380Thy cause of sorrow shall increase,

  thou cause of thy mischance.

  Other account thee wise,

  prove not thyself a fool;

Now put in practice lessons learned

  of old in wisdom’s school.

  The wise man saith, ‘Beware

  thou double not thy pain,

For one perhaps thou may’st abide,

  but hardly suffer twain.’

1385As well we ought to seek

  things hurtful to decrease,

As to endeavour helping things

  by study to increase.

  The praise of true freedom

  in wisdom’s bondage lies,

He winneth blame whose deeds be fond,

  although his words be wise.

  Sickness the body’s gaol,

  grief gaol is of the mind,

1390If thou canst ’scape from heavy grief,

  true freedom shalt thou find.

  Fortune can fill nothing

  so full of hearty grief,

But in the same a constant mind

  finds solace and relief.

  Virtue is always thrall

  to troubles and annoy,

But wisdom in adversity

  finds cause of quiet joy.

1395And they most wretched are

  that know no wretchedness,

And after great extremity

  mishaps aye waxen less.

  Like as there is no weal

  but wastes away sometime,

So every kind of wailéd woe

  will wear away in time.

  If thou wilt master quite

  the troubles that thee spill,

1400Endeavour first by reason’s help

  to master witless will.

  A sundry med’cine hath

  each sundry faint disease,

But patience, a common salve,

  to every wound gives ease.

  The world is always full

  of chances and of change,

Wherefore the change of chance must not

  seem to a wise man strange.

1405For tickel  Fortune doth,

  in changing, but her kind,

But all her changes cannot change

  a steady constant mind.

  Though wavering Fortune turn

  from thee her smiling face,

And Sorrow seek to set himself

  in banished Pleasure’s place,

  Yet may thy marred state

  be mended in a while,

1410And she eftsoons that frowneth now,

  with peasant cheer shall smile,

  For as her happy state

  no long while standeth sure,

Even so the heavy plight she brings,

  not always doth endure.

  What need so many words

  to thee that art so wise?

Thou better canst advise thyself,

  than I can thee advise.

1415Wisdom, I see, is vain,

  if thus in time of need

A wise man’s wit unpractised

  doth stand him in no steed.

  I know thou hast some cause

  of sorrow and of care,

But well I wot thou hast no cause

  thus franticly to fare.

  Affection’s foggy mist

  thy feebled sight doth blind;

1420But if that reason’s beams again

  might shine into thy mind,

  If thou would’st view thy state

  with an indifferent eye,

I think thou would’st condemn thy plaint,

  thy sighing, and thy cry.

  With valiant hand thou mad’st

  thy foe yield up his breath ,

Thou hast escaped his sword and eke

  the laws that threaten death.

1425By thy  escape thy friends

  are fraughted full of joy,

And by his death thy deadly foes

  are laden with annoy.

  Wilt thou with trusty friends

  of pleasure take some part?

Or else to please thy hateful foes

  be partner of their smart?

  Why cry’st thou out on love?

  Why dost thou blame thy fate?

1430Why dost thou so cry after death?

  Thy life why dost thou hate?

  Dost thou repent the choice

  that thou so late didst choose?

Love is thy  Lord; thou ought’st obey

  and not thy prince accuse.

  For thou hast found, thou know’st,

  great favour in his sight.

He granted thee, at thy request,

  thy only heart's delight.

1435So that the gods envied

  the bliss thou lived’st in;

To give to such unthankful men

  is folly and a sin.

  Methinks I hear thee say,

  the cruel banishment

Is only cause of thy unrest;

  only thou dost lament

  That from thy native land

  and friends thou must depart,

1440Enforced to fly from her that

  hath the keeping of thy heart:

  And so oppressed with weight

  of smart that thou dost feel,

Thou dost complain of Cupid’s brand,

  and Fortune’s turning wheel.

  Unto a valiant heart

  there is no banishment,

All countries are his native soil

  beneath the firmament.

1445As to the fish the sea,

  as to the fowl the air,

So is like pleasant to the wise

  each place of his repair.

  Though froward Fortune chase

  thee hence into exile,

With doubled honour shall she call

  thee home within a while.

  Admit thou should’st abide

  abroad a year or twain,

1450Should so short absence cause so long

  and eke so grievous pain?

  Though thou ne may’st thy friends

  here in Verona see,

They are not banished Mantua,

  where safely thou may’st be.

  Thither they may resort,

  though thou resort not hither,

And there in surety may you talk

  of your affairs together.

1455Yea, but this while, alas,

  thy Juliet must thou miss,

The only pillar of thy health,

  and anchor of thy bliss.

  Thy heart thou leav’st with her,

  when thou dost hence depart,

And in thy breast incloséd bear’st

  her tender friendly heart.

  But if thou rue so much

  to leave the rest behind,

1460With thought of passéd joys content

  thy uncontented mind.

  So shall the moan decrease

  wherewith thy mind doth melt,

Compared to the heavenly joys

  which thou hast often felt.

  He is too nice a weakling

  that shrinketh at a shower,

And he unworthy of the sweet,

  that tasteth not the sour.

1465Call now again to mind

  thy first consuming flame,

How didst thou vainly burn in love

  of an unloving dame?

  Hadst thou not well-nigh wept

  quite out thy swelling eyne

Did not thy parts, fordone with pain,

  languish away and pine?

  Those griefs and others like

  were haply overpast,

1470And thou in height of Fortune’s wheel

  well placéd at the last!

  From whence thou art now fall’n,

  that, raiséd up again,

With greater joy a greater while

  in pleasure may’st thou reign.

  Compare the present while

  with times y-past before,

And think that Fortune hath for thee

  great pleasure yet in store.

1475The whilst, this little wrong

  receive thou patiently,

And what of force must needs be done,

  that do thou willingly.

  Folly it is to fear

  that thou canst not avoid,

And madness to desire it much

  that cannot be enjoyed.

  To give to Fortune place,

  not aye deserveth blame,

1480But skill it is, according to

  the times thyself to frame."

123. Romeus is convinced and reassured by the wise friar.Whilst to this skilful lore

  he lent his list’ning ears,

His sighs are stopped and stoppéd are

  the conduits of his tears.

  As blackest clouds are chased

  by winter’s nimble wind,

So have his reasons chased

  care out of his careful mind.

1485As of a morning foul

  ensues an evening fair,

So banished hope returneth home

  to banish his despair.

  Now is affection’s veil

  removed from his eyes,

He seeth the path that he must walk,

  and reason makes him wise.

  For very shame the blood

  doth flash in both his cheeks,

1490He thanks the father for his lore,

  and farther aid he seeks.

  He saith, that skilless youth

  for counsel is unfit,

And anger oft with hastiness

  are joined to want of wit;

  But sound advice abounds

  in heads with hoarish hairs,

For wisdom is by practice won,

  and perfect made by years.

1495But aye from this time forth

  his ready bending will

Shall be in awe and governed

  by Friar Laurence’ skill.

124. The friar gives him instructions on how to leave Verona, gain the favour of the Mantuan Prince and appease Escalus. [R&J-Q1:28.e] [R&J-Q2:28.e]The governor is now

  right careful of  his charge,

To whom he doth wisely discourse

  of his affairs at large.

  He tells him how he shall

  depart the town unknown,

1500Both mindful of his friend’s safety,

  and careful of his own;

  How he shall guide himself,

  how he shall seek to win

The friendship of the better sort,

  how warely to creep in

  The favour of the Mantuan prince

   and how he may

Appease the wrath of Escalus,

  and wipe the fault away;

1505The choler of his foes

  by gentle means t’assuage,

Or else by force and practices

  to bridle quite their rage:

125. The friar tells him to pay a last visit to his wife. [R&J-Q1:28.e] [R&J-Q1:28.h] [R&J-Q2:28.e] [R&J-Q2:28.h]And last he chargeth him

  at his appointed hour

To go with manly, merry cheer

  unto his lady’s bower,

  And there with wholesome words

  to salve her sorrow’s smart,

1510And to revive, if need require,

  her faint and dying heart.

126. Romeus and Juliet feel reassured, but the narrator prefigures a new storm looming ahead.The old man’s words have filled

  with joy our Romeus’ breast,

And eke the old wife’s talk hath set

  our Juliet's heart at rest.

  Whereto may I compare,

  O lovers, this your day?

Like days the painful mariners

  are wonted to assay;

1515For, beat with tempest great,

  when they at length espy

Some little beam of Phoebus’ light,

  that pierceth through the sky,

  To clear the shadowed earth

  by clearness of his face,

They hope that dreadless they shall run

  the remnant of their race;

  Yea, they assure themselves,

  and quite behind their back

1520They cast all doubt, and thank the gods

  for ’scaping of the wrack;

  But straight the boisterous winds

  with greater fury blow,

And overboard the broken mast

  the stormy blasts do throw;

  The heavens large are clad

  with clouds as dark as hell,

And twice as high the striving waves

  begin to roar and swell;

1525With greater dangers dread

  the men are vexéd more,

In greater peril of their life

  than they had been before.

127. At night Romeus and Juliet meet in her chamber and embrace. [DP:37] [BAN:69] [BAN:70] [BOA:86] [PAI:86]The golden sun was gone

  to lodge him in the west,

The full moon eke in yonder south

  had sent most men to rest,

  When restless Romeus

  and restless Juliet

1530In wonted sort, by wonted mean,

  in Juliet's chamber met.

  And from the window’s top

  down had he leapéd scarce,

When she with arms outstretchéd wide

  so hard did him embrace,

  That well-nigh had the sprite,

  not forced by deadly force,

Flown unto death, before the time

  abandoning the corpse,

1535Thus muet stood they both

  the eighth part of an hour,

And both would speak, but neither had

  of speaking any power;

  But on his breast her

  head doth joyless Juliet lay,

And on her slender neck his chin

  doth ruthful Romeus stay.

  Their scalding sighs ascend,

  and by their cheeks down fall

1540Their trickling tears, as crystal clear,

  but bitterer far than gall.

  Then he, to end the grief

  which both they lived in,

Did kiss his love, and wisely thus

  his tale he did begin:

128. Romeus’ speech on incostant Fortune and report of his own banishment. [BOA:87] [PAI:87]“My Juliet, my love,

  my only hope and care,

To you I purpose not as now

  with length of word declare

1545The diverseness and eke

  the accidents so strange

Of frail unconstant Fortune, that

  delighteth still in change;

  Who in a moment heaves

  her friends up to the height

Of her swift-turning slippery wheel,

  then fleets her friendship straight.

  O wondrous change, even with

  the twinkling of an eye

1550Whom erst herself had rashly set

  in pleasant place so high,

  The same in great despite

  down headlong doth she throw,

And while she treads and spurneth at

  the lofty state laid low,

  More sorrow doth she shape

  within an hour’s space,

Than pleasure in an hundred years;

  so geason is her grace.

1555The proof whereof in me,

  alas, too plain appears,

Whom tenderly my careful friends

  have fostered with my feres,

  In prosperous high degree,

  maintainéd so by fate,

That, as yourself did see, my foes

  envied my noble state.

  One thing there was I did

  above the rest desire,

1560To which as to the sovereign good

  by hope I would aspire.

  That  by our marriage mean

  we might within a while,

To work our perfect happiness,

  our parents reconcile:

  That safely so we might,

  not stopped by sturdy strife,

Unto the bounds that God hath set,

  guide forth our pleasant life.

1565But now, alack, too soon

  my bliss is overblown,

And upside down my purpose and

  my enterprise are thrown.

  And driven from my friends,

  of strangers must I crave;

Oh, grant it God, from dangers dread

  that I may surety have.

  For lo, henceforth I must

  wander  in lands unknown

1570(So hard I find the Prince’s doom),

  exiléd from mine own.

  Which thing I have thought good

  to set before your eyes

And to exhort you now to prove

  yourself a woman wise,

  That patiently you bear

  my absent long abode,

For what above by fatal dooms

  decreéd is, that God”.

1575129. Juliet interrupts him and blames Fortune and Romeus for leaving her in Verona: she either will die without him, or will be his companion in exile. [DP:38] [BAN:71] [BOA:88] [PAI:88]And more than this to say,

  it seeméd, he was bent,

But Juliet in deadly grief,

  with brackish tears besprent,

  Brake off his tale begun,

  and whilst his speech he stayed,

These selfsame words, or like to these,

  with dreary cheer she said:

 “Why, Romeus, can it be

  thou hast so hard a heart;

1580So far removed from ruth; so far

  from thinking on my smart;

  To leave me thus alone,

  thou cause of my distress,

Besiegéd with so great a camp

  of mortal wretchedness,

  That every hour now,

  and moment in a day,

A thousand times Death brags, as he

  would reave my life away?

1585Yet such is my mishap,

  O cruel destiny,

That still I live, and wish for death,

  but yet can never die;

  So that just cause I have

  to think, as seemeth me,

That froward Fortune did of late

  with cruel Death agree

  To lengthen loathéd life,

  to pleasure in my pain,

1590And triumph in my harm, as in

  the greatest hopéd gain.

  And thou, the instrument

  of Fortune’s cruel will,

Without whose aid she can no way

  her tyrannous lust fulfil,

  Art not a whit ashamed,

  as far as I can see,

To cast me off, when thou hast culled

  the better part of me.

1595Whereby, alas, too soon,

  I, seely wretch, do prove,

That all the ancient sacred laws

  of friendship and of love

  Are quelled and quenchéd quite,

  since he, on whom alway

My chief hope and my steady trust

  was wonted still to stay,

  For whom I am become

  unto myself a foe,

1600Disdaineth me, his steadfast friend,

  and scorns my friendship so.

  Nay, Romeus, nay, thou may’st

  of two things choose the one,

Either to see thy castaway,

  as soon as thou art gone,

  Headlong to throw herself

  down from the window’s height,

And so to break her slender neck

  with all the body’s weight,

1605Or suffer her to be

  companion of thy pain,

Whereso thou go, Fortune thee guide,

  till thou return again.

  So wholly into thine

  transforméd is my heart,

That even as oft as I do think

  that thou  and I shall part,

  So oft, methinks, my life

  withdraws itself away,

1610Which I retain to no end else

  but to the end I may,

  In spite of all thy foes,

  thy present parts enjoy,

And in distress to bear with thee

  the half of thine annoy.

  Wherefore, in humble sort,

  Romeus, I make request,

If ever tender pity yet

  were lodged in gentle breast,

1615Oh, let it now have place

  to rest within thy heart;

Receive me as thy servant, and

  the fellow of thy smart.

  Thy absence is my death,

  thy sight shall give me life;

But if perhaps thou stand in dread

  to lead me as a wife,

  Art thou all counsel-less?

  Canst thou no shift  devise?

1620What letteth but in other

  weed I may myself disguise?

  What, shall I be the first?

  Hath none done so ere this,

To ’scape the bondage  of their friends?

  Thyself can answer, yes.

  Or dost thou stand in doubt

  that I thy wife ne can

By service pleasure thee as much

  as may thy hiréd man?

1625Or is my loyalty

  of both accompted less?

Perhaps thou fear’st lest I for gain

  forsake thee in distress.

  What, hath my beauty now

  no power at all on you,

Whose brightness,  force, and praise, sometime

  up to the skies you blew?

  My tears, my friendship and

  my pleasures done of old,

1630Shall they be quite forgot indeed?”

  130. Romeus urges Juliet to remain behind to avoid being prosecuted and condemned. He promises that he will either return for good after four months, or will escape with her abroad. [DP:39] [BAN:72] [BOA:89] [PAI:89]When Romeus did behold

  The wildness of her look,

  her colour pale and dead,

The worst of all that might betide

  to her, he ’gan to dread;

  And once again he did

  in arms his Juliet take,

And kissed her with a loving kiss,

  and thus to her he spake:

1635“Ah, Juliet,” quoth he,

   "the mistress of my heart,

For whom, even now, thy servant doth

  abide in deadly smart,

  Even for the happy days

  which thou desir’st to see,

And for the fervent friendship’s sake

  that thou dost owe to me,

  At once these fancies vain

  out of thy mind root out,

1640Except, perhaps, unto thy blame,

  thou fondly go about

  To hasten forth my death,

  and to thine own to run,

Which Nature’s law and wisdom’s lore

  teach every wight to shun.

  For, but thou change thy mind,

  I do foretell the end,

Thou shalt undo thyself for aye,

  and me thy trusty friend.

1645For why, thy absence known,

  thy father will be wroth,

And in his rage so narrowly

  he will pursue us both,

  That we shall try in vain

  to ’scape away by flight,

And vainly seek a lurking place

  to hide us from his sight.

  Then we, found out and caught,

  quite void of strong defence,

1650Shall cruelly be punished

  for thy departure hence;

  I as a ravisher,

  thou as a careless child,

I as a man who doth defile,

  thou as a maid defiled;

  Thinking to lead in ease

  a long-contented life,

Shall short our days by shameful death:

  but if, my loving wife,

1655Thou banish from thy mind

  two foes that counsel hath,

That wont to hinder sound advice,

  rash hastiness and wrath;

  If thou be bent t’obey

  the lore of reason’s skill

And wisely by her princely power

  suppress rebelling will,

  If thou our safety seek,

  more than thine own delight,

1660Since surety stands in parting, and

  thy pleasures grow of sight,

  Forbear the cause of joy,

  and suffer for a while,

So shall I safely live abroad,

  and safe turn from exile,

  So shall no slander’s blot

  thy spotless life distain,

So shall thy kinsmen be unstirred,

  and I exempt from pain.

1665And think thou not, that aye

  the cause of care shall last;

These stormy broils shall overblow,

  much like a winter’s blast.

  For Fortune changeth more

  than fickle fantasy;

In nothing Fortune constant is

  save in unconstancy.

  Her hasty running wheel

  is of a restless course,

1670That turns the climbers headlong down,

  from better to the worse,

  And those that are beneath

  she heaveth up again:

So we shall rise to pleasure’s mount,

  out of the pit of pain.

  Ere four months overpass,

  such order will I take,

And by my letters and my friends

  such means I mind to make,

1675That of my wand’ring race

  ended shall be the toil,

And I called home with honour great

  unto my native soil.

  But if I be condemned

  to wander still in thrall,

I will return to you, mine own,

  befall what may befall.

  And then by strength of friends,

  and with a mighty hand,

1680From Verona will I carry thee

  into a foreign land,

  Not in man’s weed disguised,

  or as one scarcely known,

But as my wife and only fere,

  in garment of thine own.

  Wherefore repress at once

  the passions of thy heart,

And where there is no cause of grief,

  cause hope to heal thy smart.

1685For of this one thing thou

  may’st well assuréd be,

That nothing else but only death

  shall sunder me from thee.”

131. Juliet agrees but wants to be kept informed by Friar Laurence. [BOA:90] [PAI:90]The reasons that he made

  did seem of so great weight,

And had with her such force, that she

  to him ’gan answer straight:

 “Dear sir, nought else wish I

  but to obey your will;

1690But sure whereso you go, your heart

  with me shall tarry still,

  As sign and certain pledge,

  till here I shall you see,

Of all the power that over you

  yourself did grant to me;

  And in his stead take mine,

  the gage of my good will:

One promise crave I at your hand,

  that grant me to fulfil;

1695Fail not to let me have,

  at Friar Laurence’ hand,

The tidings of your health, and how

  your doubtful case shall stand.

  And all the weary while

  that you shall spend abroad,

Cause me from time to time to know

  the place of your abode.”

132. The lovers agree and spend the night in pain and plaint. [BOA:91] [PAI:91]His eyes did gush out tears,

  a sigh brake from his breast,

1700When he did grant and with an oath

  did vow to keep the hest.

  Thus these two lovers pass

  away the weary night,

In pain and plaint, not, as they wont,

  in pleasure and delight.

133. At dawn the two lovers sadly part. [DP:40] [BAN:73] [BOA:92] [PAI:92] [R&J-Q1:30.c] [R&J-Q2:30.c]But now (somewhat too soon)

  in farthest east arose

Fair Lucifer, the golden star

  that lady Venus chose;

1705Whose course appointed is

  with speedy race to run,

A messenger of dawning day

  and of the rising sun.

  Then fresh Aurora with

  her pale and silver glade

Did clear the skies, and from the earth

  had chaséd ugly shade.

  When thou ne lookest wide,

  ne closely dost thou wink

1710When Phoebus from our hemisphere

  in western wave doth sink,

  What colour then the heavens

  do show unto thine eyes,

The same, or like, saw Romeus

  in farthest eastern skies.

  As yet he saw no day,

  ne could he call it night

With equal force decreasing dark

  fought with increasing light.

1715Then Romeus in arms

  his lady ’gan to fold,

With friendly kiss, and ruthfully

  she ’gan her knight behold.

  With solemn oath they both

  their sorrowful leave do take;

They swear no stormy troubles shall

  their steady friendship shake.

134. Romeus goes to the friar’s cell, Juliet to her room. The narrator depicts their days of sorrow deprived of each other’s sun. [BAN:74] [BOA:93] [PAI:93]Then careful Romeus

  again to cell returns,

1720And in her chamber secretly

  our joyless Juliet mourns.

  Now hugy clouds of care,

  of sorrow, and of dread,

The clearness of their gladsome hearts

  hath wholly overspread.

  When golden-crested Phoebus

  boasteth  him in sky,

And under earth, to ’scape revenge,

  his deadly foe doth fly

1725Then hath these lovers’ day

  an end, their night begun,

For each of them to other is

  as to the world the sun,

  The dawning they shall see,

  ne summer any more,

But blackfaced night with winter rough,

  ah, beaten over sore.

135. After the discharging of the guards at Verona gates, Romeus goes away disguised as a merchant and once in Mantua sends back his man. [DP:41] [BAN:75] [BOA:94] [PAI:94]The weary watch discharged

  did hie them home to sleep,

1730The warders and the scouts were charged

  their place and course to keep,

  And Verona gates awide

  the porters had set open,

When Romeus had of his affairs

  with Friar Laurence spoken.

  Warely he walked forth,

  vunknown of friend or foe,

Clad like a merchant venturer,

  from top even to the toe.

1735He spurred apace, and came,

  without stop or stay,

To Mantua gates, where lighted down,

  he sent his man away

  With words of comfort to

  his old afflicted sire;

136. Romeus finds a lodging in Mantua, makes noble acquaintances and complains about the wrong he received with the duke. Yet time passes and nothing makes him rejoice. [BAN:75]And straight, in mind to sojourn there,

  a lodging doth he hire,

  And with the nobler sort

  he doth himself acquaint,

1740And of his open wrong received

  the duke doth hear his plaint.

  He practiseth by friends

  for pardon of exile;

The whilst he seeketh every way

  his sorrows to beguile.

  But who forgets the coal

  that burneth in his breast?

Alas, his cares deny his heart

  the sweet desiréd rest;

1745No time finds he of mirth,

  he finds no place of joy,

But everything occasion gives

  of sorrow and annoy.

  For when in turning skies

  the heaven’s lamps are light,

And from the other hemisphere

  fair Phoebus chaseth night,

  When every man and beast

  hath rest from painful toil,

1750Then in the breast of Romeus

  his passions ’gin to boil.

  Then doth he wet with tears

  the couch whereon he lies,

And then his sighs the chamber fill,

  and out aloud he cries

  Against the restless stars

  in rolling skies that range,

Against the fatal sisters three,

  and Fortune full of change.

1755Each night a thousand times

  he calleth for the day,

He thinketh Titan’s restless steeds

  of restiness do stay;

  Or that at length they have

  some baiting place found out,

Or, guided ill, have lost their way

  and wandered far about.

  While thus in idle thoughts

  the weary time he spendeth,

1760The night hath end, but not with night

  the plaint of night he endeth.

  Is he accompanied?

  Is he in place alone?

In company he wails his harm,

  apart he maketh moan:

  For if his feres rejoice,

  what cause hath he to joy,

That wanteth still his chief delight,

  while they their loves enjoy?

1765But if with heavy cheer

  they show their inward grief,

He waileth most his wretchedness

  that is of wretches chief.

  When he doth hear abroad

  the praise of ladies blown,

Within his thought he scorneth them,

  and doth prefer his own.

  When pleasant songs he hears,

  while  others do rejoice,

1770The melody of music doth

  stir up his mourning voice.

  But if in secret place

  he walk somewhere alone,

The place itself and secretness

  redoubleth all his moan.

  Then speaks he to the beasts,

  to feathered fowls and trees,

Unto the earth, the clouds, and to

  whatso beside he sees.

1775To them he shew’th his smart,

  as though they reason had.

Each thing may cause his heaviness,

  but nought may make him glad.

  And, weary of the day,

  again he calleth night,

The sun he curseth, and the hour

  when first his eyes saw light.

  And as the night and day

  their course do interchange,

1780So doth our Romeus’ nightly cares

  for cares of day exchange.

137. Juliet pines away, and her mother urges her to give up suffering for Tybalt’s death. [DP:42] [BAN:76] [BOA:95] [PAI:95] [R&J-Q1:31.a] [R&J-Q2:31.a]In absence of her knight

  the lady no way could

Keep truce between her griefs and her,

  though ne’er so fain she would;

  And though with greater pain

  she cloakéd sorrow's smart,

Yet did her paléd face disclose

  the passions of her heart.

1785Her sighing every hour,

  her weeping everywhere,

Her reckless heed of meat, of sleep,

  and wearing of her gear,

  The careful mother marks;

  then of her health afraid,

Because the griefs increaséd still,

  thus to her child she said:

 "Dear daughter, if you should

  long languish in this sort,

1790I stand in doubt that oversoon

  your sorrows will make short

  Your loving father’s life

  and mine, that love you more

Than our own proper breath and life.

  Bridle henceforth therefore

  Your grief and pain, yourself

  on joy your thought to set,

For time it is that now you should

  our Tybalt’s death forget.

1795Of whom since God hath claimed

  the life that was but lent,

He is in bliss, ne is there cause

  why you should thus lament.

  You cannot call him back

  with tears and shriekings shrill:

It is a fault thus still to  grudge

  at God’s appointed will.”

138. Juliet can no longer hide her pain but denies that it is due to Tybalt’s death. [BOA:96] [PAI:96]The seely soul had now

  no longer power to feign,

1800No longer could she hide her harm,

  but answered thus again,

  With heavy broken sighs,

  with visage pale and dead:

“Madam, the last of Tybalt’s tears

  a great while since I shed.

  Whose spring hath been ere this

  so laded out by me,

That empty quite and moistureless

  I guess it now to be.

1805So that my painéd heart

  by conduits of the eyne

No more henceforth, as wont it was,

  shall gush forth dropping brine.”

139. Juliet’s mother does not understand her behaviour and decides to talk it over with her husband. [DP:44] [BAN:76] [BAN:78] [BOA:97] [PAI:97]The woeful mother knew

  not what her daughter meant,

And loth to vex her child by words,

  her peace she warely hent.

  But when from hour to hour,

  from morrow to the morrow,

1810Still more and more she saw increased

  her daughter’s wonted sorrow,

  All means she sought of her

  and household folk to know

The certain root whereon her grief

  and bootless moan doth grow.

  But lo, she hath in vain

  her time and labour lore,

Wherefore without all measure is

  her heart tormented sore.

1815And sith herself could not

  find out the cause of care,

She thought it good to tell the sire

  how ill his child did fare.

140. Juliet’s mother urges her husband to find out the true cause of Juliet’s pain and suggests that they find a good party for her, assuming that she is envious of her mates who are already married. [DP:44] [BAN:78] [BOA:98] [PAI:98]And when she saw her time,

  thus to her fere she said:

"Sir, if you mark our daughter well,

  the countenance of the maid,

  And how she fareth since

  that Tybalt unto death,

1820Before his time, forced by his foe,

  did yield his living breath,

  Her face shall seem so changed,

  her doings eke so strange,

That you will greatly wonder at

  so great and sudden change.

  Not only she forbears

  her meat, her drink, and sleep,

But now she tendeth nothing else

  but to lament and weep.

1825No greater joy hath she,

  nothing contents her heart

So much as in the chamber close

  to shut herself apart;

  Where she doth so torment

  her poor afflicted mind,

That much in danger stands her life,

  except some help we find.

  But, out, alas, I see not

  how it may be found,

1830Unless that first we might find whence

  her sorrows thus abound.

  For though with busy care

  I have employed my wit,

And used all the ways I knew

  to learn the truth of it,

  Neither extremity

  ne gentle means could boot;

She hideth close within her breast

  her secret sorrow’s root.

1835This was my first conceit,

  that all her ruth arose

Out of her cousin Tybalt’s death,

  late slain of deadly foes;

  But now my heart doth hold

  a new repugnant thought;

Some greater thing, not Tybalt’s death,

  this change in her hath wrought.

  Herself assuréd me

  that many days ago

1840She shed the last of Tybalt’s tears;

  which word amazed me so

  That I then could not guess

  what thing  else might her grieve;

But now at length I have bethought

  me; and I do believe

  The only crop and root

  of all my daughter’s pain

Is grudging envy’s faint disease:

  perhaps she doth disdain

1845To see in wedlock yoke

  the most  part of her feres,

Whilst only she unmarried

  doth lose so many years.

  And more perchance she thinks

  you mind to keep her so;

Wherefore despairing doth she wear

  herself away with woe.

  Therefore, dear sir, in time

  take on your daughter ruth;

1850For why, a brickle  thing is glass,

  and frail is frailless youth.

  Join her at once to some

  in link of marriage,

That may be meet for our  degree,

  and much about her age:

  So shall you banish care

  out of your daughter’s breast,

So we her parents, in our age,

  shall live in quiet rest."

1855141. Capulet replies that although she is only 16, he has long thought about this matter and will find a prompt solution to cure her. [DP:45] [BAN:79] [BOA:99] [PAI:99] [R&J-Q2:6.b]Whereto ’gan easily

  her husband to agree,

And to the mother’s skilful talk

  thus straightway answered he:

 "Oft have I thought, dear wife,

  of all these things ere this,

But evermore my mind me gave,

  it should not be amiss

  By farther leisure had

  a husband to provide;

1860Scarce saw she yet full sixteen years:

  too young to be a bride!

  But since her state doth stand

  on terms so perilous,

And that a maiden daughter is

  a treasure dangerous,

  With so great speed I will

  endeavour to procure

A husband for our daughter young,

  her sickness faint to cure,

1865That you shall rest content,

  so warely will I choose,

And she recover soon enough

  the time she seems to lose.

  The whilst seek you to learn,

  if she in any part

Already hath, unware to us,

  fixéd her friendly heart;

  Lest we have more respect

  to honour and to wealth,

1870Than to our daughter’s quiet life,

  and to her happy health;

  Whom I do hold as dear

  as th’apple of mine eye,

And rather wish in poor estate

  and daughterless to die,

  Than leave my goods and her

  y-thralled to such a one,

Whose churlish dealing, I once dead,

  should be her cause of moan.”

1875142. Capulet starts searching for a good party.This pleasant answer heard,

  the lady parts again,

And Capulet, the maiden’s sire,

  within a day or twain,

  Conferreth with his friends

  for marriage of his daughter,

And many gentlemen there were

  with busy care that sought her;

  Both for the  maiden was

  well shapéd, young, and fair,

1880As also well brought up, and wise;

  her father’s only heir.

143. Among the suitors, Capulet likes Count Paris best and tells his wife. [DP:45] [BAN:80] [BOA:100] [PAI:100] [R&J-Q1:6.b] [R&J-Q1:29.b] [R&J-Q2:29.b]Among the rest was one

  inflamed with her desire,

Who County Paris clepéd was;

  an earl he had to sire.

  Of all the suitors him

  the father liketh best,

And easily unto the earl

  he maketh his behest,

1885Both of his own good will,

  and of his friendly aid,

To win his wife unto his will,

  and to persuade the maid.

  The wife did joy to hear

  the joyful husband say

How happy hap,  how meet a match,

  he had found out that day;

144. Lady Capulet informs Juliet and praises the beauty of Paris. [DP:46] [BAN:80] [BOA:101] [PAI:101] [R&J-Q1:11.c] [R&J-Q1:11.d] [R&J-Q1:31.b] [R&J-Q2:11.c] [R&J-Q2:11.d] [R&J-Q2:31.b]Ne did she seek to hide

  her joys within her heart,

1890But straight she hieth to Juliet;

  to her she tells, apart,

  What happy talk, by mean

  of her, was past no rather

Between the wooing Paris and

  her careful, loving father.

  The person of the man,

  the features of his face,

His youthful years, his fairness, and

  his port, and seemly grace,

1895With curious words she paints

  before her daughter’s eyes,

And then with store of virtue’s praise

  she heaves him to the skies.

  She vaunts his race, and gifts

  that Fortune did him give,

Whereby, she saith, both she and hers

  in great delight shall live.

145. Juliet firmly rejects her mother’s proposal. [DP:47] [BAN:81] [BOA:102] [PAI:102] [R&J-Q1:31.c] [R&J-Q2:31.c]When Juliet conceived

  her parents’ whole intent,

1900Whereto both love and reason’s right

  forbade her to assent,

  Within herself she thought,

  rather than be forsworn,

With horses wild her tender parts

  asunder  should be torn.

  Not now, with bashful brow,

  in wonted wise, she spoke,

But with unwonted boldness straight

  into these words she broke:

1905“Madam, I marvel much

  that you so lavish are

Of me your child, your jewel once,

  your only joy and care,

  As thus to yield me up

  at pleasure of another,

Before you know if I do like

  or else mislike my lover.

  Do what you list, but yet

  of this assure you still,

1910If you do as you say you will,

  I yield not there until.

  For had I choice of twain,

  far rather would I choose

My part of all your goods and eke

  my breath and life to lose,

  Than grant that he possess

  of me the smallest part;

First, weary of my painful life,

  my cares shall kill my heart,

1915Else will I pierce my breast

  with sharp and bloody knife;

And you, my mother, shall become

  the murd’ress of my life,

  In giving me to him

  whom I ne can, ne may,

Ne ought, to love: wherefore on knees,

  dear mother, I you pray,

  To let me live henceforth,

  as I have lived tofore;

1920Cease all your troubles for my sake,

  and care for me no more;

  But suffer Fortune fierce

  to work on me her will,

In her it lieth to do me boot,

  in her it lieth to spill.

  For whilst you for the best

  desire to place me so,

You haste away my ling’ring death,

  and double all my woe.”

1925146. Lady Capulet is taken aback and wishes her husband had been with her. She informs him. [DP:49] [BAN:81] [BOA:103] [PAI:103] [R&J-Q1:31.d] [R&J-Q1:32.a] [R&J-Q2:31.d] [R&J-Q2:32.a]So deep this answer made

  the sorrows down to sink

Into the mother’s breast, that she

  ne knoweth what to think

  Of these her daughter’s words,

  but all appalled she stands,

And up unto the heavens she throws

  her wond’ring head and hands.

  And, nigh beside herself,

  her husband hath she sought;

1930She tells him all; she doth forget

  ne  yet she hideth aught.

147. Capulet summons Juliet. [DP:50] [BAN:82] [BOA:104] [PAI:104]The testy old man, wroth,

  disdainful without measure,

Sends forth his folk  in haste for her,

  and bids them take no leisure:

  Ne on her tears or plaint

  at all to have remorse,

But, if they cannot with her will,

  to bring the maid perforce.

1935The message heard, they part,

  to fetch that they must fet,

And willingly with them walks forth

  obedient Juliet.

148. Once in front of her father Juliet despairs and cannot speak for sobs and sighs. [BOA:105] [PAI:105]Arrivéd in the place,

  when she her father saw,

Of whom, as much as duty would,

  the daughter stood in awe,

  The servants sent away,

   (the mother thought it meet)

1940The woeful daughter all bewept

  fell grovelling at his feet,

  Which she doth wash with tears

  as she thus grovelling lies.

So fast, and eke so plenteously

  distil they from her eyes:

  When she to call for grace

  her mouth doth think to open,

Muet she is, for sighs and sobs

  her fearful talk have broken.

1945149. Capulet gets incensed and orders Juliet to marry Paris and go to their castle called Freetown on Wednesday. He reminds her of the power of Roman fathers over their children. [DP:51] [BAN:84] [BOA:106] [PAI:106] [R&J-Q1:32.c] [R&J-Q1:32.d] [R&J-Q1:32.f] [R&J-Q2:32.c] [R&J-Q2:32.d] [R&J-Q2:32.f]The sire, whose swelling wrath

  her tears could not assuage,

With fiery eyne, and scarlet cheeks,

  thus spoke her in his rage,

  Whilst ruthfully stood by

  the maiden’s mother mild:

“Listen,” quoth he, “unthankful and

  thou disobedient child,

  Hast thou so soon let slip

  out of thy mind the word

1950That thou so oftentimes hast heard

  rehearséd at my board?

How much the Roman youth

  of parents stood in awe,

And eke what power upon their seed

  the fathers  had by law?

  Whom they not only might pledge,

  alienate, and sell,

Whenso they stood in need, but more,

  if children did rebel,

1955The parents had the power

  of life and sudden death.

What if those good men should again

  receive the living breath,

  In how strait bonds would they

  thy stubborn body bind?

What weapons would they seek for thee?

  what torments would they find?

  To chasten, if they saw,

  the lewdness of thy life,

1960Thy great unthankfulness to me,

  and shameful sturdy strife?

  Such care thy mother had,

  so dear thou wert to me,

That I with long and earnest suit

  provided have for thee

  One of the greatest lords

  that wons about this town,

And for his many virtues’ sake

  a man of great renown.

1965Of whom both thou and I

  unworthy are too much,

So rich ere long he shall be left,

  his father’s wealth is such,

  Such is the nobleness

  and honour of the race,

From whence his father came: and yet,

  thou playest in this case

  The dainty fool, and stubborn

  girl; for want of skill

1970Thou dost refuse thy offered weal,

  and disobey my will.

  Even by His strength I swear,

  that first did give me life,

And gave me in my youth the strength

  to get thee on my wife,

  Unless by Wednesday next

  thou bend as I am bent,

And at our castle called Freetown

  thou freely do assent

1975To County Paris’ suit,

  and promise to agree

To whatsoever then shall pass

  ’twixt him, my wife, and me,

  Not only will I give

  all that I have away

From thee, to those that shall me love,

  me honour, and obey,

  But also to so close

  and to so hard a gaol

1980I shall thee wed, for all thy life,

  that sure thou shalt not fail

  A thousand times a day

  to wish for sudden death,

And curse the day and hour when first

  thy lungs did give thee breath.

  Advise thee well, and say

  that thou art warnéd now,

And think not that I speak in sport,

  or mind to break my vow.

1985For were it not that I

  to County Paris gave

My faith, which I must keep unfalsed,

  my honour so to save,

  Ere thou go hence, myself

  would see thee chastened so,

That thou should’st once for all be taught

  thy duty how to know;

  And what revenge of old

  the angry sires did find

1990Against their children that rebelled

  and showed themselves unkind.”

150. Capulet and his wife go away without waiting for Juliet to reply, who remains kneeling on the floor. [DP:51] [BOA:107] [PAI:107] [R&J-Q1:32.f] [R&J-Q1:32.f] [R&J-Q1:33.a] [R&J-Q2:33.a]These said, the old man straight

  is gone in haste away,

Ne for his daughter’s answer would

  the testy father stay.

  And after him his wife

  doth follow out of door,

And there they leave their chidden

  child kneeling upon the floor:

1995151. Juliet retires to her room and cries. [BOA:108] [BOA:109] [PAI:108]Then she that oft had seen

  the fury of her sire,

Dreading what might come of his rage,

  nould farther stir his ire.

  Unto her chamber she

  withdrew herself apart,

Where she was wonted to unload

  the sorrows of her heart.

  There did she not so much

  busy her eyes in sleeping,

2000As overpressed with restless thoughts

  in piteous bootless weeping.

  The fast falling of tear

  make not her tears decrease,

Ne, by the pouring forth of plaint,

  the cause of plaint doth cease.

  So that to th’end the moan

  and sorrow may decay,

The best is that she seek some mean

  to take the cause away.

2005152. In the morning Juliet goes to Saint Francis’ church, informs the friar of the organized match with Paris and threatens self-slaughter. [DP:55] [DP:58] [BAN:91] [BAN:93] [BOA:109] [BOA:111] [PAI:109] [R&J-Q1:33.e] [R&J-Q1:35.a] [R&J-Q2:33.e] [R&J-Q2:35.a]Her weary bed betime

  the woeful wight forsakes,

And to Saint Francis’ church to mass

  her way devoutly takes.

  The friar forth is called;

  she prays him hear her shrift;

Devotion is in so young years

  a rare and precious gift.

  When on her tender knees

  the dainty lady kneels,

2010In mind to pour forth all the grief

  that inwardly she feels,

  With sighs and salted tears

  her shriving doth begin,

For she of heapéd sorrows hath

  to speak, and not of sin.

  Her voice with piteous plaint

  was made already hoarse,

And hasty sobs, when she would  speak,

  brake off her words perforce.

2015But as she may, piece-meal,

  she poureth in his lap

The marriage news, a mischief new,

  preparéd by mishap,

  Her parents’ promise erst

  to County Paris past,

Her father’s threats she telleth him,

  and thus concludes at last:

 "Once was I wedded well,

  ne will I wed again;

2020For since I know I may not be

  the wedded wife of twain,

  For I am bound to have

  one God, one faith, one make,

My purpose is as soon as I

  shall hence my journey take,

  With these two hands, which joined

  unto the heavens I stretch,

The hasty death which I desire,

  unto myself to reach.

2025This day, O Romeus,

  this day thy woeful wife

Will bring the end of all her cares

  by ending careful life.

  So my departed sprite

  shall witness to the sky,

And eke my blood unto the earth

  bear record, how that I

  Have kept my faith unbroken,

  steadfast unto my friend."

2030153. The friar reassures Juliet and promises to help her against ill Fortune. [DP:59] [BAN:95] [BOA:110] [PAI:110]When this her heavy tale was told,

  her vow eke at an end,

  Her gazing here and there,

  her fierce and staring look,

Did witness that some lewd attempt

  her heart had undertook.

Whereat the friar astound,

  and ghastfully afraid

Lest she by deed perform her word,

  thus much to her he said:

2035“Ah, Lady Juliet,

  what need the words you spoke?

I pray you, grant me one request,

  for blesséd Mary’s sake.

Measure somewhat your grief,

  hold here awhile your peace;

Whilst I bethink me of your case,

  your plaint and sorrows  cease.

  Such comfort will I give you,

  ere you part  from hence,

2040And for th’assaults of Fortune’s ire

  prepare so sure defence,

  So wholesome salve will I

  for your afflictions find,

That you shall hence depart again

  with well contented mind.”

154. Juliet feels relieved and the friar retires to his chamber to think the matter out. He feels responsible for having married her not five months before. [BOA:111] [PAI:111]His words have chaséd straight

  out of her heart despair,

Her black and ugly dreadful thoughts

  by hope are waxen fair.

2045So Friar Laurence now

  hath left her there alone,

And he out of the church in haste

  is to his chamber gone;

  Where sundry thoughts within

  his careful head arise;

The old man’s foresight divers doubts

  hath set before his eyes,

  His conscience one while

  condemns it for a sin

2050To let her take Paris to spouse,

  since he himself had been

  The chiefest cause, that she

  unknown to father or mother,

Not five months past, in that self-place

  was wedded to another.

155. The friar is troubled by fears for the lovers and himself in case Juliet fails to cope with such a weighty affair and it is punished. [DP:59] [BAN:96] [BOA:112] [PAI:112]Another while an hugy

  heap of dangers dread

His restless thought hath heapéd up

  within his troubled head.

  Even of itself th’attempt

  he judgeth perilous;

2055The execution eke he deems

  so much more dangerous,

  That to a woman’s grace

  he must himself commit,

That young is, simple and unware,

  for weighty affairs unfit;

  For if she fail in aught,

  the matter publishéd,

2060Both she and Romeus were undone,

  himself eke punishéd.

156. Eventually he decides that it is better to risk his own reputation than Juliet’s honesty. He takes a little glass, and goes back to Juliet. [DP:59] [BAN:97] [BOA:113] [PAI:113]When to and fro in mind

  he divers thoughts had cast,

With tender pity and with ruth

  his heart was won at last;

  He thought he rather would

  in hazard set his fame,

Than suffer such adultery.

  Resolving on the same,

2065Out of his closet straight

  he took a little glass,

And then with double haste returned

  where woeful Juliet was;

  Whom he hath found well-nigh

  in trance, scarce drawing breath,

Attending still to hear the news

  of life or else of death.

157. The friar asks Juliet when she must consent and learns that it is on Wednesday, while the marriage is set on September 10. [BOA:114] [PAI:114]Of whom he did enquire

  of the appointed day:

2070“On Wednesday next,” quoth Juliet,

   “so doth my father say,

  I must give my consent;

  but, as I do remember,

The solemn day of marriage is

  the tenth day of September.”

158. The friar vows to help and stand loyal to both Romeus and Juliet. [BOA:115] [PAI:115]“Dear daughter,” quoth the friar,

   "of good cheer see thou be,

For lo, Saint Francis of his grace

  hath showed a way to me,

2075By which I may both thee

  and Romeus together

Out of the bondage which you fear

  assurédly deliver.

  Even from the holy font

  thy husband have I known,

And, since he grew in years, have kept

  his counsels as mine own.

  For from his youth he would

  unfold to me his heart,

2080And often have I curéd him

  of anguish and of smart;

  I know that by desert

  his friendship I have won,

And I him hold  as dear as if

  he were my proper son.

  Wherefore my friendly heart

  cannot abide that he

Should wrongfully in aught be harmed,

  if that it lay in me

2085To right or to revenge

  the wrong by my advice,

Or timely to prevent the same

  in any other wise.

  And sith thou art his wife,

  thee am I bound to love,

For Romeus’ friendship’s sake, and seek

  thy anguish to remove,

  And dreadful torments, which

  thy heart besiegen round;

2090159. The friar bids Juliet to secrecy. [DP:59] [BAN:97] [BOA:116] [PAI:116]Wherefore, my daughter, give good ear

  unto my counsels sound.

  Forget not what I say,

  ne tell it any wight,

Not to the nurse thou trustest so,

  as Romeus is thy knight;

  For on this thread doth hang

  thy death and eke thy life,

My fame or shame, his weal or woe

  that chose thee to his wife.

2095160. The friar describes his past adventures when he learned about a “private fruit” which will serve Juliet’s purpose. [BOA:117] [PAI:117]Thou art not ignorant,

  because of such renown

As everywhere is spread of me,

  but chiefly in this town,

  That in my youthful days

  abroad I travelléd,

Through every land found out by men,

  by men inhabited;

  So twenty years from home,

  in lands unknown a guest,

2100I never gave my weary limbs

  long time of quiet rest,

  But in the desert woods,

  to beasts of cruel kind,

Or on the seas to drenching waves,

  at pleasure of the wind,

  I have committed them,

  to ruth of rover’s hand,

And to a thousand dangers more,

  by water and by land.

2105But not in vain, my child,

  hath all my wand’ring been;

Beside the great contentedness

  my sprite abideth in,

  That by the pleasant thought

  of passéd things doth grow,

One private fruit more have I plucked,

  which thou shalt shortly know:

  What force the stones, the plants,

  and metals have to work,

2110And divers other things that in

  the bowels of earth do lurk,

  With care I have sought out,

  with pain I did them prove;

With them eke can I help myself

  at times of my behove,

  Although the science be

  against the laws of men,

When sudden danger forceth me;

  but yet most chiefly when

2115The work to do is least

  displeasing unto God,

Not helping to do any sin

  that wreakful Jove forbode.

      161.The friar explains Juliet why he wants to help her. [BOA:118] [PAI:118]For since in life no hope

   of long abode I have,

But now am come unto the brink

   of my appointed grave,

And that my death draws near,

   whose stripe I may not shun,

2120But shall be called to make account

   of all that I have done,

Now ought I from henceforth

   more deeply print in mind

The judgment of the Lord, than when

   youth’s folly made me blind,

When love and fond desire

   were boiling in my breast,

Whence hope and dread by striving thoughts

   had banished friendly rest.

2125162. The friar describes the wonderful effects of the sleeping potion he is about to give to Juliet. [DP:61] [BAN:98] [BOA:119] [PAI:119] [R&J-Q1:35.b] [R&J-Q2:35.b]Know therefore, daughter, that

   with other gifts which I

Have well attainéd to, by grace

   and favour  of the sky,

Long since I did find out,

   and yet the way I know

Of certain roots and savoury herbs

   to make a kind of dough,

Which bakéd hard, and beat

   into a powder fine,

2130And drunk with conduit water, or

   with any kind of wine,

It doth in half an hour

   astone the taker so,

And mast’reth all his senses, that

   he feeleth weal nor woe:

And so it burieth up

   the sprite and living breath,

That even the skilful leech would say,

   that he is slain by death.

2135One virtue more it hath,

   as marvellous as this;

The taker, by receiving it,

   at all not grievéd is;

But painless as a man

   that thinketh nought at all,

Into a sweet and quiet sleep

   immediately doth fall;

From which, according to

   the quantity he taketh,

2140Longer or shorter is the time

   before the sleeper waketh;

And thence, th’effect once wrought,

   again it doth restore

Him that received unto the state

   wherein he was before.

163. The friar urges Juliet to take manly courage and drink the potion. Then he illustrates the plan in details. [DP:61] [BAN:98] [BAN:100] [BOA:120] [PAI:120] [R&J-Q1:35.b] [R&J-Q2:35.b] [R&J-Q2:35.c]Wherefore, mark well the end

   of this my tale begun,

And thereby learn what is by thee

   hereafter to be done.

2145Cast off from thee at once

   the weed of womanish dread,

With manly courage arm thyself

   from heel unto the head;

For only on the fear

   or boldness of thy breast

The happy hap or ill mishap

   of thy affair doth rest.

Receive this vial small

   and keep it as thine eye;

2150And on thy  marriage day, before

   the sun do clear the sky,

Fill it with water full

   up to the very brim,

Then drink it off, and thou shalt feel

   throughout each vein and limb

A pleasant slumber slide,

   and quite dispread at length

On all thy  parts, from every part

   reave all thy kindly strength;

2155Withouten moving thus

   thy idle parts shall rest,

No pulse shall go, ne heart once beat

   within thy hollow breast,

But thou shalt lie as she

   that dieth  in a trance:

Thy kinsmen and thy trusty friends

   shall wail the sudden chance;

Thy corpse then will they bring

   to grave in this churchyard,

2160Where thy forefathers long ago

   a costly tomb prepared,

Both for themselves  and eke

   for those that should  come after,

Both deep it is, and long and large,

   where thou shalt rest, my daughter,

Till I to Mantua send

   for Romeus, thy knight;

Out of the tomb both he and I

   will take thee forth that night.

2165And when out of thy sleep

   thou shalt awake again,

Then may’st thou go with him from hence;

   and, healéd of thy pain,

In Mantua lead with him

   unknown a pleasant life;

And yet perhaps in time to come,

   when cease shall all the strife,

And that the peace is made

   ’twixt Romeus and his foes,

2170Myself may find so fit a time

   these secrets to disclose,

Both to my praise, and to

   thy tender parents’ joy,

That dangerless, without reproach,

   thou shalt thy love enjoy."

164. Juliet agrees: she would rather take the poison than be married to Paris. [DP:62] [BAN:99] [BAN:100] [BOA:121] [PAI:121] [R&J-Q1:35.b] [R&J-Q2:35.b]When of his skilful tale

   the friar had made an end,

To which our Juliet well

   her ear and wits did bend,

2175That she hath heard it all

   and hath forgotten nought,

Her fainting heart was comforted

   with hope and pleasant thought,

And then to him she said:

  "Doubt not but that I will

With stout and unappalléd heart

   your happy hest fulfil.

Yea, if I wist it were

   a venomous deadly drink,

2180Rather would I that through my throat

   the certain bane should sink,

Than I, not drinking it,

   into his hands  should fall,

That hath no part of me as yet,

   ne ought to have at all.

Much more I ought with bold

   and with a willing heart

To greatest danger yield myself,

   and to the deadly smart,

2185To come to him on whom

   my life doth wholly stay,

That is my only heart’s delight,

   and so he shall be aye.”

165. The friar prays God to make her constant in this deed. [BOA:122] [PAI:122] “Then go,” quoth he, “my child ,

   I pray that God on high

Direct thy foot, and by thy hand

   upon the way thee guy.

God grant he so confirm

   in thee thy present will,

2190That no inconstant toy thee let

   thy promise  to fulfil.”

166. Juliet thanks the friar, goes back home, tells her mother about her changed mind, and sks her to inform her father. [DP:64] [BAN:101] [BOA:123] [PAI:123] [R&J-Q1:36.c] [R&J-Q2:36.c]A thousand thanks and more

   our Juliet gave the friar,

And homeward to her father’s house

   joyful she doth retire;

And as with stately gait

   she passéd through the street,

She saw her mother in the door,

   that with her there would meet,

2195In mind to ask if she

   her purpose yet did hold,

In mind also, apart ’twixt them,

   her duty to have told;

Wherefore with pleasant face,

   and with unwonted cheer,

As soon as she was unto her

   approachéd somewhat  near,

Before the mother spake,

   thus did she first begin:

2200"Madam, at Saint Francis’ church

   have I this morning been ,

Where I did make abode

   a longer while, percase,

Than duty would; yet have I not

   been absent from this place

So long a while, without

   a great and just cause why;

This fruit have I receivéd there,

   my heart, erst like to die,

2205Is now revived again,

   and my afflicted breast,

Releaséd from affliction,

   restoréd is to rest.

For lo, my troubled ghost,

   alas, too sore diseased,

By ghostly counsel and advice

   hath Friar Laurence eased;

To whom I did at large

   discourse my former life,

2210And in confession did I tell

   of all our passéd strife;

Of County Paris’ suit,

   and how my lord, my sire,

By my ungrate and stubborn strife

   I stirréd unto ire;

But lo, the holy friar

   hath by his ghostly lore

Made me another woman now

   than I had been before.

2215By strength of arguments

   he chargéd so my mind,

That, though I sought, no sure defence

   my searching thought could find.

So forced I was at length

   to yield up witless will,

And promised to be ordered by

   the friar’s praiséd skill.

Wherefore, albeit I

   had rashly, long before,

2220The bed and rites of marriage

   for many years forswore,

Yet mother, now behold

   your daughter at your will,

Ready, if you command her aught,

   your pleasure to fulfil.

Wherefore in humble wise,

   dear madam, I you pray,

To go unto my lord and sire,

   withouten long delay;

2225Of him first pardon crave

   of faults already past,

And show him, if it pleaseth you,

   his child is now at last

Obedient to his lust

   and to his skilful hest,

And that I will, God lending life,

   on Wednesday next be prest

To wait on him and you,

   unto th’appointed place,

2230Where I will, in your hearing, and

   before my father’s face,

Unto the County give

   my faith and whole assent,

To take him for my lord and spouse;

   thus fully am I bent;

And that out of your mind

   I may remove all doubt,

Unto my closet fare I now,

   to search and to choose out

2235The bravest garments and

   the richest jewels there,

Which, better him to please, I mind

   on Wednesday next to wear;

For if I did excel

   the famous Grecian rape,

Yet might attire help to amend

   my beauty and my shape."

167. Lady Capulet rejoices and informs her husband, who greatly praises the friar. [DP:65] [BAN:102] [BOA:124] [PAI:124] [R&J-Q1:36.d] [R&J-Q2:36.d]The simple mother was

   rapt into great delight;

2240Not half a word could she bring forth,

   but in this joyful plight

With nimble foot she ran,

   and with unwonted pace,

Unto her pensive husband, and

   to him with pleasant face

She told what she had heard,

   and praiseth much the friar,

And joyful tears ran down the cheeks

   of this gray-bearded  sire.

2245With hands and eyes heaved up

   he thanks God in his heart,

And then he saith: "This is not, wife,

   the friar’s first desart;

Oft hath he showed to us

   great friendship heretofore,

By helping us at needful times

   with wisdom’s precious lore.

In all our commonweal

   scarce one is to be found

2250But is, for some good turn, unto

   this holy father bound.

Oh that the third part of

   my goods – I do not feign –

But twenty of his passéd years

   might purchase him again!

So much in recompense

   of friendship would I give,

So much, in faith, his extreme age

   my friendly heart doth grieve."

2255168. Capulet informs Paris and invites him to Freetown to celebrate, but Paris suggests to cancel the feast and only asks to see Juliet. [BAN:87] [BOA:125] [PAI:125] [R&J-Q2:36.h]These said, the glad old man

   from home go’th straight abroad

And to the stately palace hieth

   where Paris made abode;

Whom he desires to be

   on Wednesday next his guest,

At Freetown, where he minds to make

   for him a costly feast.

But lo, the earl saith,

   such feasting were but lost,

2260And counsels him till marriage-time

   to spare so great a cost,

For then he knoweth well

   the charges will be great;

The whilst, his heart desireth still

   her sight, and not his meat.

He craves of Capulet

   that he may straight go see

Fair Juliet; whereto he doth

   right willingly agree.

2265169. Juliet’s mother recommends that she puts up her best manners to impress Paris and win his heart. He is so seduced that he wants to haste the wedding. [BAN:103] [BOA:126] [PAI:126] The mother, warned before,

   her daughter doth prepare;

She warneth and she chargeth her

   that in no wise she spare

Her courteous speech, her pleasant

   looks, and comely grace,

But liberally to give them forth

   when Paris comes in place:

Which she as cunningly

   could set forth to the show,

2270As cunning craftsmen to the sale

   do set their wares on row;

That ere the County did

   out of her sight depart,

So secretly unwares to him

   she stole away his heart,

That of his life and death

   the wily wench had power.

And now his longing heart thinks long

   for their  appointed hour,

2275And with importune suit

   the parents doth he pray

The wedlock knot to knit soon up,

   and haste the marriage day.

170. Time passes and the appointed day approaches. The richest garments are bought to Juliet. The narrator refers to the written source of histale as proof of its verity. [BAN:103] [BOA:127] [PAI:127] [R&J-Q1:36.e] [R&J-Q2:36.e] The wooer hath passed forth

   the first day in this sort,

And many other more than this,

   in pleasure and disport.

At length the wishéd time

   of long hopéd delight,

2280As Paris thought, drew near;

   but near approachéd heavy plight.

Against the bridal day

   the parents did prepare

Such rich attire, such  furniture,

   such store of dainty fare,

That they which did behold

   the same the night before

Did think and say, a man could scarcely

   wish for any more.

2285Nothing did seem too dear;

   the dearest things were bought;

And, as the written story saith,

   indeed there wanted nought

That ’longed to his degree,

   and honour of his stock;

171. Juliet is secret also with the nurse, who starts praising Paris even more than Romeus before him. [R&J-Q1:33.b] [R&J-Q2:33.b]But Juliet, the whilst, her thoughts

   within her breast did lock;

Even from the trusty nurse,

   whose secretness  was tried,

2290The secret counsel of her heart

   the nurse-child seeks to hide.

For sith, to mock her Dame,

   she did not stick to lie,

She thought no sin with show of truth

   to blear her nurse’s eye.

In chamber secretly

   the tale she ’gan renew,

That at the door she told her dame,

   as though it had been true.

2295The flat’ring nurse did praise

   the friar for his skill,

And said that she had done right well

   by wit to order will.

She setteth forth at large

   the father’s furious rage,

And eke she praiseth much to her

   the second marriage;

And County Paris now

   she praiseth ten times more,

2300By wrong, than she herself, by right,

   had Romeus praised before.

Paris shall dwell there still,

   Romeus shall not return;

What shall it boot her life

   to languish still and mourn?

The pleasures past before

   she must account as gain;

But if he do return, what then?

   For one she shall have twain.

2305The one shall use her as

   his lawful wedded wife,

In wanton love with equal joy

   the other lead his life;

And best shall she be sped

   of any townish dame,

Of husband and of paramour

   to find her change of game.

These words and like the nurse

   did speak, in hope to please,

2310But greatly did these wicked words

   the lady’s mind disease;

172. Juliet feigns to be content with the nurse’s advice. [R&J-Q1:33.c] [R&J-Q2:33.c]But aye she hid her wrath,

   and seeméd well content,

When daily did the naughty nurse

   new arguments invent.

173. Juliet goes to her chamber and devises an excuse to send the nurse away. [BAN:104] [BOA:129] [PAI:129] [R&J-Q1:37.a] [R&J-Q2:37.a]But when the bride perceived

   her hour approachéd near,

She sought, the best she could, to feign,

   and tempered so her cheer,

2315That by her outward look

   no living wight could guess

Her inward woe; and yet anew

   renewed is her distress.

Unto her chamber doth

   the pensive wight repair,

And in her hand a percher light

   the nurse bears up the stair.

In Juliet’s chamber was

   her wonted use to lie;

2320Wherefore her mistress, dreading that

   she should her work descry,

As soon as she began

   her pallet to unfold,

Thinking to lie that night where she

   was wont to lie of old,

Doth gently pray her seek

   her lodging somewhere else;

And, lest she, crafty, should suspect,

   a ready reason tells.

2325174. Juliet wants to be left alone to pray as it is the night before her wedding. [BAN:104] [BOA:129] [PAI:129] [R&J-Q1:37.a] [R&J-Q2:37.a]"Dear friend," quoth she, "you know

   tomorrow is the day

Of new contract; wherefore, this night,

   my purpose is to pray

Unto the heavenly minds

   that dwell above the skies,

And order all the course of things

   as they can best devise,

2330That they so smile upon

   the doings of tomorrow,

That all the remnant of my life

   may be exempt from sorrow;

Wherefore, I pray you, leave

   me here alone this night,

But see that you tomorrow come

   before the dawning light,

For you must curl my hair,

   and set on my attire."

175. The nurse leaves Juliet alone. [BAN:104] [BOA:130] [PAI:130] [R&J-Q1:37.a] [R&J-Q2:37.a]And easily the loving  nurse

   did yield to her desire,

2335For she within her head

   did cast before no doubt;

She little knew the close attempt

   her nurse-child went about.

176. Juliet prepares to drink the potion but begins to have doubts. [BAN:104] [BOA:131] [PAI:131] [R&J-Q1:37.b] [R&J-Q2:37.b]The nurse departed once,

   the chamber door shut close,

Assuréd that no living wight

   her doing might disclose,

She pouréd forth into

   the vial of the friar

2340Water, out of a silver ewer

   that on the board stood by her.

The sleepy mixture made,

   fair Juliet doth it hide

Under her bolster soft, and so

   unto her bed she hied:

Where divers novel thoughts

   arise within her head,

And she is so environed

   about with deadly dread,

2345That what before she had

   resolved undoubtedly

That same she calleth into doubt;

   and lying doubtfully,

Whilst honest love did strive

   with dread of deadly pain,

With hands y-wrung, and weeping eyes,

   thus ’gan she to complain:

  177. Juliet laments her lot. [BOA:132] [PAI:132]"What, is there any one,

   beneath the heavens high,

2350So much unfortunate as I?

   so much past hope as I?

What, am I not myself,

   of all that yet were born,

The deepest drenchéd in despair,

   and most in Fortune’s scorn?

For lo, the world for me

   hath nothing else to find,

Beside mishap and wretchedness

   and anguish of the mind;

2355Since that the cruel cause

   of my unhappiness

Hath put me to this sudden plunge,

   and brought to such distress,

As, to the end I may

   my name and conscience save,

I must devour the mixéd drink

   that by me here I have,

Whose working and whose force

   as yet I do not know."

2360And of this piteous plaint began

   another doubt to grow:

  178. Juliet fears that the potion will not work timely or at all. [BAN:107] [BOA:133] [PAI:133] [R&J-Q1:37.c] [R&J-Q2:37.c]“What do I know,” quoth she,

  “if that this powder shall

Sooner or later than it should,

   or else, not work at all?

And then my craft descried

   as open as the day,

The people’s tale and laughing-stock

   shall I remain for aye.”

2365179. She fears serpents or odious beasts should appear in the tomb, or that she might be stifled by the foul odour of the corpses. [BAN:106] [BOA:134] [PAI:134] [R&J-Q1:37.e] [R&J-Q2:37.e]“And what know I,” quoth she,

  “if serpents odious,

And other beasts and worms that are

   of nature venomous,

That wonted are to lurk

   in dark caves underground,

And commonly, as I have heard,

   in dead men’s tombs are found,

Shall harm me, yea or nay,

   where I shall lie as dead?

2370Or how shall I that always have

   in so fresh air been bred,

Endure the loathsome stink

   of such an heapéd store

Of carcasses not yet consumed,

   and bones that long before

Intombéd were, where I

   my sleeping-place shall have,

Where all my ancestors do rest,

   my kindred’s common grave?

2375Shall not the friar and

   my Romeus, when they come,

Find me, if I awake before,

   y-stifled in the tomb?”

180. She thinks she sees the carcass of Tybalt and the corpses of her forefathers. (sheis said to have golden hair) [BAN:105] [BOA:135] [PAI:135] [R&J-Q1:37.f] [R&J-Q2:37.f]And whilst she in these thoughts

   doth dwell somewhat too long,

The force of her imagining

   anon did wax so strong,

That she surmised she saw,

   out of the hollow vault,

2380A grisly thing to look upon,

   the carcass of Tybalt;

Right in the selfsame sort

   that she few days before

Had seen him in his blood imbrued,

   to death eke wounded sore.

And then when she again

   within herself had weighed

That quick she should be buried there,

   and by his side be laid,

2385All comfortless, for she

   shall living fere have none,

But many a rotten carcass, and

   full many a naked bone;

Her dainty tender parts

   ’gan shiver all for dread,

Her golden hairs did stand upright

   upon her chillish head.

Then presséd with the fear

   that she there livéd in,

2390A sweat as cold as mountain ice

   pierced through her slender skin,

That with the moisture hath

   wet every part of hers:

And more besides, she vainly thinks,

   whilst vainly thus she fears,

A thousand bodies dead

   have compassed her about,

And lest they will dismember her

   she greatly stands in doubt.

2395181.She eventually drinks the potion and faints. [DP:67] [DP:68] [BAN:108] [BOA:136] [PAI:136] [R&J-Q1:37.g] [R&J-Q2:37.g]But when she felt her strength

   began to wear away,

By little and little, and  in her heart

   her fear increaséd aye,

Dreading that weakness might,

   or foolish cowardice,

Hinder the execution of

   the purposed enterprise,

As she had frantic been,

   in haste the glass she caught,

2400And up she drank the mixture quite,

   withouten farther thought.

Then on her breast she crossed

   her arms long and small,

And so, her senses failing her,

   into a trance did fall.

182. At dawn the nurse goes to wake Juliet up. [DP:69] [BAN:109] [BOA:137] [PAI:137] [R&J-Q1:39.a] [R&J-Q2:39.a]And when that Phoebus bright

   heaved up his seemly head,

And from the East in open skies

   his glist’ring rays dispread,

2405The nurse unshut the door,

   for she the key did keep,

And doubting she  had slept too long,

   she thought to break her sleep;

First softly did she call,

   then louder thus did cry:

Lady, you sleep too long; the earl

   will raise you by and by."

But, wellaway, in vain

   unto the deaf she calls,

2410She thinks to speak to Juliet,

   but speaketh to the walls.

If all the dreadful noise

   that might on earth be found,

Or on the roaring seas, or if

   the dreadful thunder’s sound

Had blown into her ears,

   I think they could not make

The sleeping wight before the time

   by any means awake;

2415So were the sprites of life

   shut up, and senses thralled;

Wherewith the seely careful nurse 

   was wondrously appalled.

She thought to daw her now

   as she had done of old,

But lo, she found her parts were stiff

   and more than marble cold;

Neither at mouth nor nose

   found she recourse of breath;

2420Two certain arguments were these

   of her untimely death.

183. The nurse discovers Juliet apparently dead and goes screaming to tell her mother. [DP:69] [DP:70] [BAN:110] [BOA:138] [PAI:138] [R&J-Q1:39.b] [R&J-Q2:39.b]Wherefore, as one distraught,

   she to her mother ran,

With scratchéd face, and hair betorn,

   but no word speak she can,

At last, with much ado,

  "Dead," quoth she, "is my child!"

184. Lady Capulet despairs. [DP:73] [BAN:111] [BOA:139] [PAI:139] [R&J-Q1:39.c] [R&J-Q2:39.c] Architextuality"Now, out, alas!" the mother cried,

   and as a tiger wild,

2425Whose whelps, whilst she is gone

   out of her den to prey,

The hunter greedy of his game

   doth kill or carry away;

So raging forth she ran

   unto her Juliet’s bed,

And there she found her darling and

   her only comfort dead.

Then shrieked she out as loud

   as serve her would her breath,

2430And then, that pity was to hear,

   thus cried she out on Death:

  “Ah cruel Death,” quoth she,

  "that thus against all right,

Hast ended my felicity,

   and robbed my heart’s delight,

Do now thy worst to me,

   once wreak thy wrath for all,

Even in despite I cry to thee,

   thy vengeance let thou fall.

Whereto stay I, alas,

   since Juliet is gone?

2435Whereto live I, since she is dead,

   except to wail and moan?

Alack, dear child, my tears

   for thee shall never cease;

Even as my days of life increase,

   so shall my plaint increase:

Such store of sorrow shall

   afflict my tender heart,

2440 That deadly pangs, when they assail

   shall not augment my smart."

Then ’gan she so to sob,

   it seemed her heart would brast;

185. Capulet, Paris, and guests arrive at the feast and instead of celebrating they mourn. [BAN:112] [BOA:140] [PAI:140] [R&J-Q1:39.f] [R&J-Q2:39.f] ArchitextualityAnd while she crieth thus, behold,

   the father at the last,

The County Paris, and

   of gentlemen a rout,

And ladies of Verona town

   and country round about,

2445Both kindreds and allies

   thither apace have pressed,

For by their presence there they sought

   to honour so the feast;

But when the heavy news

   the bidden guests did hear,

So much they mourned, that who had seen

   their count’nance and their cheer,

Might easily have judged

   by that that they had seen,

2450That day the day of wrath and eke

   of pity to have been.

186. Juliet’s father laments more than anyone else. Doctors are sent for and it is determined that she died of inner care. [DP:71] [DP:72] [BAN:113] [BOA:141] [PAI:141] ArchitextualityBut more than all the rest

   the father’s heart was so

Smit with the heavy news, and so

   shut up with sudden woe,

That he ne had the power

   his daughter to be-weep,

Ne yet to speak, but long is forced

   his tears and plaint to keep.

2455In all the haste he hath

   for skilful leeches sent;

And, hearing of her passéd life,

   they judge with one assent

The cause of this her death

   was inward care and thought;

And then with double force again

   the doubled sorrows wrought.

187. General lamentation of the town over Juliet’s beautiful body. [BAN:112] [BOA:142] [PAI:142] [R&J-Q1:39.h] [R&J-Q2:39.h] ArchitextualityIf ever there hath been

   a lamentable day,

2460 A day ruthful, unfortunate

   and fatal, then I say,

The same was it in which

   through Verona town was spread

The woeful news how Juliet

   was stervéd in her bed.

For so she was bemoaned

   both of the young and old,

That it might seem to him that would

   the common plaint behold,

2465 That all the commonwealth

   did stand in jeopardy;

So universal was the plaint,

   so piteous was the cry.

For lo, beside her shape

   and native beauty’s hue,

With which, like as she grew in age,

   her virtues’ praises grew,

She was also so wise,

   so lowly, and so mild,

2470 That even from the hoary head

   unto the witless child,

She wan the hearts of all,

   so that there was not one,

Ne great, ne small, but did that day

   her wretched state bemoan.

188. In the meantime the friar has sent another friar to Romeus with a letter Containing instructions. [DP:75] [BAN:114] [BOA:143] [PAI:143]Whilst Juliet slept, and whilst

the other weepen thus,

Our Friar Laurence hath by this

   sent one to Romeus,

2475A friar of his house,

   there never was a better,

He trusted him even as himself,

   to whom he gave a letter,

In which he written had

   of everything at length,

That passed ’twixt Juliet and him,

   and of the powder’s strength;

The next night after that,

   he willeth him to come

2480To help to take his Juliet

   out of the hollow tomb,

For by that time the drink,

   he saith, will cease to work,

And for one night his wife and he

   within his cell shall lurk;

Then shall he carry her

   to Mantua away –

Till fickle Fortune favour him,

   disguised in man’s array.

2485This letter closed he sends

   to Romeus by his brother;

He chargeth him that in no case

   he give it any other.

189. Friar John is stopped in Mantua because of a brother who had died of plague. [DP:75] [BAN:115] [BOA:144] [PAI:144] [R&J-Q1:42.b] [R&J-Q2:42.b]Apace our Friar John

   to Mantua him hies;

And, for because in Italy

   it is a wonted guise

That friars in the town

   should seldom walk alone,

2490But of their convent aye should be

   accompanied with one

Of his profession, straight

   a house he findeth out,

In mind to take some friar with him,

   to walk the town about.

But entered once he might

   not issue out again,

For that a brother of the house,

   a day before or twain,

2495 Died of the plague – a sickness which

   they greatly fear and hate –

So were the brethren charged to keep

   within their convent gate,

Barred of their fellowship

   that in the town do wonne;

The townfolk eke commanded are

   the friar’s house to shonne

Till they that had the care of health

   their freedom should renew;

2500Whereof, as you shall shortly hear,

   a mischief great there grew.

The friar by this restraint,

   beset with dread and sorrow,

Not knowing what the letters held,

   deferred until the morrow;

And then he thought in time

   to send to Romeus.

190. In the meantime, in Verona the feast has been turned into a funeral. [DP:74] [BAN:119] [R&J-Q1:39.j] [R&J-Q2:39.j]But whilst at Mantua where he was,

   these doings framéd thus,

2505The town of Juliet’s birth

   was wholly busiéd

About her obsequies, to see

   their darling buriéd.

Now is the parents’ mirth

   quite changéd into moan,

And now to sorrow is returned

   the joy of every one;

And now the wedding weeds

   for mourning weeds they change,

2510And Hymene into a dirge;

   alas, it seemeth strange:

Instead of marriage gloves,

   now funeral gloves they have,

And whom they should see marriéd,

   they follow to the grave.

The feast that should have been

   of pleasure and of joy,

Hath every dish and cup filled full

   of sorrow and annoy.

2515191. Italian funerary customs. [BOA:145] [PAI:145]Now throughout Italy

   this common use they have,

That all the best of every stock

   are earthéd in one grave:

For every household, if

   it be of any fame,

Doth build a tomb, or dig a vault,

   that bears the household’s name;

Wherein, if any of

   that kindred hap to die,

2520They are bestowed; else in the same

   no other corpse may lie.

192. Juliet is laid in the Capulet tomb where Tybalt was buried. [BAN:123] [BOA:146] [PAI:146]The Capulets her corpse

   in such a one did lay,

Where Tybalt, slain of Romeus,

   was laid the other day.

193. The Italian custom of bearing the corpse with open face in the funeral procession.Another use there is,

   that whosoever dies,

Borne to their church with open face

   upon the bier he lies,

2525In wonted weed attired,

   not wrapped in winding sheet.

194. Romeus’ man happens to see Juliet in the funeral procession. [DP:76] [BAN:120] [BOA:147] [PAI:147] [R&J.Q1:41.b] [R&J.Q2:41.b]So, as by chance he walked abroad,

   our Romeus’ man did meet

His master’s wife; the sight

   with sorrow straight did wound

His honest heart; with tears he saw

   her lodged underground.

195. The narrator repeats that Romeus’ man had been sent back to Verona. [BOA:148] [PAI:148]And, for he had been sent

   to Verone for a spy,

2530The doings of the Capulets

   by wisdom to descry,

196. Romeus’ man hurries back to Mantua and informs his master. [DP:76] [DP:77] [BAN:121] [BAN:124] [BOA:149] [PAI:149] [R&J-Q1:41.b] [R&J-Q2:41.b]And for he knew her death

   did touch his master most,

Alas, too soon, with heavy news

   he hied away in post;

And in his house he found

   his master Romeus,

Where he, besprent with many tears,

  began to speak him thus:

2535“Sire, unto you of late

   is chanced so great a harm,

That sure, except with constancy

   you seek yourself to arm,

I fear that straight you will

   breathe out your latter breath,

And I, most wretched wight, shall be

   th’occasion of your death.

Know, sir, that yesterday,

   my lady and your wife,

2540I wot not by what sudden grief,

   hath made exchange of life

And for because on earth

   she found nought but unrest,

In heaven hath she sought to find

   a place of quiet rest

And with these weeping eyes

   myself have seen her laid

Within the tomb of Capulets”:

   and herewithal he stayed.

2545197. At the news Romeus decides to die and to rest with Juliet. [DP:78] [DP:80] [BAN:125] [BAN:127] [BOA:150] [PAI:150] [R&J-Q1:41.c] [R&J-Q1:41.e] [R&J-Q2:41.c] [R&J-Q2:41.e]This sudden message’ sound,

   sent forth with sighs  and tears,

Our Romeus received too soon

   with open list’ning ears

And thereby hath sunk in

   such sorrow in his heart,

That lo, his sprite annoyéd sore

   with torment and with smart,

Was like to break out of

   his prison house perforce,

2550And that he might fly after hers,

   would leave the massy corpse.

But earnest love that will

   not fail him till his end,

This fond and sudden fantasy

   into his head did send:

That if near unto her he

   offered up his breath,

That then a hundred thousand parts

   more glorious were his death.

2555Eke should his painful heart

   a great deal more be eased,

And more also, he vainly thought,

   his lady better pleased.

198. Romeus roams about town and finally finds a poor apothecary. [BAN:134] [BOA:151] [PAI:151] [R&J-Q1:41.f] [R&J-Q1:41.g] [R&J-Q2:41.f] [R&J-Q2:41.g]Wherefore when he his face

   hath washed with water clean,

Lest that the stains of driéd tears

   might on his cheeks be seen,

And so his sorrow should

   of everyone be spied,

2560Which he with all his care did seek

   from everyone to hide,

Straight, weary of the house,

   he walketh forth abroad:

His servant, at the master’s hest,

   in chamber still abode;

And then from street to street

   he wand’reth up and down,

To see if he in any place

   may find, in all the town,

2565A salve meet for his sore,

   an oil fit for his wound;

And seeking long – alack, too soon! –

   the thing he sought, he found.

An apothecary sat

   unbusied at his door,

Whom by his heavy countenance

   he guessed to be poor.

And in his shop he saw

   his boxes were but few,

2570And in his window, of his  wares,

   there was so small a shew;

Wherefore our Romeus

   assuredly hath thought,

What by  no friendship could be got,

   with money should  be bought;

199. The law forbids to sell poison. [R&J-Q1:41.h] [R&J-Q2:41.h]For needy lack is like

   the poor man to compel

To sell that which the city’s law

   forbiddeth him to sell.

2575200. Romeus offers fifty crowns to the apothecary to buy the poison. The apothecary accepts the money and sells it to him. [R&J-Q1:41.i] [R&J-Q2:41.i]Then by the hand he drew

   the needy man apart,

And with the sight of glittering gold

   inflaméd hath his heart:

"Take fifty crowns of gold,"

   quoth he, "I give them thee,

So that, before I part from hence,

   thou straight deliver me

Some poison strong, that may

   in less than half an hour

2580Kill him whose wretched hap shall be

   the potion to devour."

The wretch by covetise

   is won, and doth assent

To sell the thing, whose sale ere long,

   too late, he doth repent.

201. The apothecary describes the speediness of the poison. [R&J-Q1:41.j] [R&J-Q2:41.j]In haste he poison sought,

   and closely he it bound,

And then began with whispering voice

   thus in his ear to round:

2585“Fair sir,” quoth he, “be sure

   this is the speeding gear,

And more there is than you shall need;

   for half of that is there

Will serve, I undertake,

   in less than half an hour

To kill the strongest man alive;

   such is the poison’s power.”

202. Romeus sends Peter to Verona and tells him to wait for him near where Juliet has been buried, with instruments to open the tomb. Peter carries out his task in secrecy. [DP:79] [BAN:128] [BOA:154] [PAI:154]Then Romeus, somewhat eased

   of one part of his care,

2590Within his bosom putteth up

   his dear unthrifty ware.

Returning home again,

   he sent his man away

To Verona town, and chargeth him

   that he, without delay,

Provide both instruments

   to open wide the tomb,

And lights to show him Juliet;

   and stay till he shall come

2595Near to the place whereas

   his loving wife doth rest,

And chargeth him not to

   bewray the dolours of his breast.

Peter, these heard, his leave

   doth of his master take;

Betime he comes to town, such haste

   the painful man did make:

And then with busy care

   he seeketh to fulfil,

2600But doth disclose unto no wight

   his woeful master’s will.

Would God, he had herein

   broken his master’s hest!

203. Romeus writes a letter to his father where he tells the whole story, and hires a horse to go to Verona. [BAN:129] [BOA:155] [PAI:155] [R&J-Q1:41.c] [R&J-Q2:41.c]Would God, that to the friar he had

   discloséd all his breast!

But Romeus the while

   with many a deadly thought

Provokéd much, hath caused ink

   and paper  to be brought,

2605And in few lines he did

   of all his love discourse,

How by the friar’s help, and by

   the knowledge of the nurse,

The wedlock knot was knit,

   and by what mean that night

And many mo he did enjoy

   his happy heart’s delight;

Where he the poison bought,

   and how his life should end;

2610And so his wailful tragedy

   the wretched man hath penned.

The letters closed and sealed,

   directed to his sire,

He locketh in his purse, and then

   a post-horse doth he hire.

204. Romeus arrives at Verona at night and finds his man waiting for him at the monument, with the instruments. He bids him to go away and to bring the letter to his father. [DP:81] [BAN:131] [BAN:134] [BOA:156] [PAI:156] [R&J-Q1:43.d] [R&J-Q2:43.d]When he approachéd near,

   he warely lighted down,

And even with the shade of night

   he entered Verona town

2615Where he hath found his man,

   waiting when he should  come,

With lantern, and with instruments

   to open Juliet’s tomb.

"Help, Peter, help," quoth he,

  "help to remove the stone,

And straight when I am gone from thee,

   my Juliet to bemoan,

See that thou get thee hence,

   and on the pain of death

2620I charge thee that thou come not near

   while I abide beneath,

Ne seek thou not  to let

   thy master’s enterprise,

Which he hath fully purposed

   to do, in any wise.

Take there a letter, which,

   as soon as he shall rise,

Present it in the morning to

   my loving father’s eyes;

2625Which unto him, perhaps,

   far pleasanter shall seem,

Than either I do mind to say,

   or thy gross head can deem.”

205. Peter obediently withdraws. [BOA:157] [PAI:157] [R&J-Q1:43.e] [R&J-Q2:43.e]Now Peter, that knew not

   the purpose of his heart,

Obediently a little way

   withdrew himself apart;

206. Romeus descends into the tomb, sees Juliet and cries over her. [DP:83] [DP:84] [BAN:132] [BOA:158] [PAI:158] [R&J-Q1:43.f] [R&J-Q1:44.b] [R&J-Q2:43.f] [R&J-Q2:44.b]And then our Romeus

  (the vault-stone set upright),

2630Descended down, and in his hand

   he bare the candle light.

And then with piteous eye

   the body of his wife

He ’gan behold, who surely was

   the organ of his life;

For whom unhappy now

   he is, but erst was blissed,

He watered her with tears, and then

   a hundred times her kissed;

2635And in his folded arms

   full straitly he her plight,

But no way could his greedy eyes

   be filléd with her sight:

His fearful hands he laid

   upon her stomach cold,

And them on divers parts beside

   the woeful wight did hold.

207. Romeus drinks the poison and talks about their sacrifice for love in the same tomb as their best epitaph. [DP:85] [BAN:133] [BOA:159] [PAI:159] [R&J-Q1:44.f] [R&J-Q2:44.f]But when he could not find

   the signs of life he sought,

2640Out of his curséd box he drew

   the poison that he bought;

Whereof he greedily

   devoured the greater part,

And then he cried, with deadly  sigh

   fetched from his mourning heart:

  “O Juliet, of whom

   the world unworthy was,

From which, for world’s unworthiness

   thy worthy ghost did pass,

2645What death more pleasant could

   my heart wish to abide

Than that which here it suffreth now,

   so near thy friendly side?

Or else so glorious tomb

   how could my youth have craved,

As in one self-same vault with thee

   haply to be ingraved?

What epitaph more worth,

   or half so excellent,

2650To consecrate my memory,

   could any man invent,

As this our mutual and

   our piteous sacrifice

Of life, set light for love?" But while

   he talketh in this wise,

And thought as yet awhile

   his dolours to enforce,

His tender heart began to faint,

   pressed with the venom’s force;

2655Which little and little ’gan

   to overcome his heart,

208. Romeus sees Tybalt’s body and asks for forgiveness. [BAN:141] [BOA:160] [PAI:160] [R&J-Q2:44.c]And whilst his busy eyne he threw

   about to every part,

He saw, hard by the corpse

   of sleeping Juliet,

Bold Tybalt’s carcase dead, which was

   not all consuméd yet

To whom, as having life,

   in this sort speaketh he:

2660"Ah, cousin dear, Tybalt, whereso

   thy restless sprite now be

With stretchéd hands to thee

   for mercy now I cry,

For that before thy kindly hour

   I forcéd thee to die.

But if with quenchéd life

   not quenchéd be thine ire,

But with revenging lust as yet

   thy heart be set on fire,

2665What more amends, or cruel

   wreak desirest thou

To see on me, than this which here

   is showed forth to thee now?

Who reft by force of arms

   from thee thy living breath,

The same with his own hand, thou seest,

   doth poison  himself to death.

And for he caused thee

   in tomb too soon to lie,

2670Too soon also, younger than thou,

   himself he layeth by.”

209. Romeus invokes Christ’s pity. [BOA:161] [PAI:161]These said, when he ’gan feel

   the poison’s force prevail,

And little and little mastered life

   for aye began to fail,

Kneeling upon his knees,

   he said with voice full low:

Lord Christ, that so to ransom me

   descendedst long ago

2675Out of thy father’s bosom,

   and in the Virgin’s womb

Didst put on flesh, oh, let my plaint

   out of this hollow tomb,

Pierce through the air, and grant

   my suit may favour find;

Take pity on my sinful and

   my poor afflicted mind.

For well enough I know,

   this body is but clay,

2680Nought but a mass of sin, too frail,

   and subject to decay.”

210. Romeus dies upon Juliet’s body. [DP:97] [BAN:148] [BOA:162] [PAI:162] [R&J-Q1:44.c] [R&J-Q2:44.c]Then pressed with extreme grief

   he threw with so great force

His overpresséd parts upon

   his lady’s wailéd corpse,

That now his weakened heart,

   weakened with torments past,

Unable to abide this pang,

   the sharpest and the last,

2685Remainéd quite deprived

   of sense and kindly strength,

And so the long imprisoned soul

   hath freedom won at length

Ah cruel death, too soon, too soon

   was this divorce,

Twixt youthful Romeus’ heavenly sprite,

   and his fair earthy  corpse.

211. Without news from Romeus, the friar goes to the monument to meet Juliet when she wakes up. [DP:95] [BAN:145] [BOA:163] [PAI:163] [R&J-Q1:45.a] [R&J-Q2:45.a]The friar that knew what time

   the powder had been taken,

2690Knew eke the very instant when

   the sleeper should awaken;

But wondering that he could

   no kind of answer hear

Of letters which to Romeus

   his fellow friar did bear,

Out of Saint Francis’ church

   himself alone did fare,

And for the opening of the tomb

   meet instruments he bare.

2695Approaching nigh the place

   and seeing there the light,

Great horror felt he in his heart,

   by strange and sudden sight;

212. Peter tells the friar that Romeus is within the tomb. [R&J-Q1:45.b] [R&J-Q2:45.b]Till Peter, Romeus’ man,

   his coward heart made bold,

When of his master’s being there

   the certain news he told:

  “There hath he been,” quoth he,

  “this half hour at the least

2700And in this time, I dare well say,

   his plaint hath still increast.”

213. They enter the monument, find Romeus dead and start crying. [DP:96] [BAN:147] [BOA:165] [PAI:165] [R&J-Q1:45.g] [R&J-Q2:45.g]Then both they entered in,

   where they, alas, did find

The breathless corpse of Romeus,

   forsaken of the mind:

Where they have made such moan,

   as they may best conceive,

That have with perfect friendship loved,

   whose friend fierce death did reave.

2705214. Juliet wakes up and asks the friar where Romeus is. [DP:87] [BAN:136] [BOA:166] [PAI:166] [R&J-Q1:45.h] [R&J-Q2:45.h]But whilst with piteous plaint

   they Romeus’ fate beweep,

An hour too late fair Juliet

   awakéd out of sleep;

And much amazed to see

   in tomb so great a light,

She wist not if she saw a dream,

   or sprite that walked by night.

But coming to herself

   she knew them, and said thus:

2710“What, friar Laurence, is it you?

   Where is my Romeus?”

215. The friar tells her what has happened and tries to convince her to go away and spend her life in a convent. [DP:99] [BAN:147] [BAN:152] [BOA:167] [PAI:167] [R&J-Q1:45.i] [R&J-Q2:45.i]And then the ancient friar,

   that greatly stood in fear,

Lest, if they lingered over long

   they should be taken there,

In few plain words the whole

   that was betid, he told,

And with his finger showed his corpse

   out-stretchéd, stiff, and cold;

2715And then persuaded her

   with patience to abide

This sudden great mischance, and saith,

   that he will soon provide

In some religious house

   for her a quiet place,

Where she may spend the rest of life,

   and where in time, percase,

She may with wisdom’s mean

   measure her mourning breast,

2720And unto her tormented soul

   call back exiléd rest.

216. Juliet sees Romeus’ dead body, kisses him and despairs. [DP:101] [BAN:149] [BAN:151] [BOA:168] [PAI:168] [R&J-Q1:46.a] [R&J-Q2:46.a]But lo, as soon as she

   had cast her ruthful eye

On Romeus’ face, that pale and wan

   fast by her side did lie,

Straightway she did unstop

   the conduits of her tears,

And out they gush; with cruel hand

   she tare her golden hairs.

2725But when she neither could

   her swelling sorrow ’suage

Ne yet her tender heart abide

   her sickness’ furious rage,

Fall’n on his corpse she lay,

   long panting on his face,

And then with all her force and strength

   the dead corpse did embrace.

As though with sighs, with sobs,

   with force, and busy pain

2730She would him raise, and him restore

   from death to life again:

A thousand times she kissed

   his mouth, as cold as stone,

And it unkissed again as oft;

   then ’gan she thus to moan:

  “Ah, pleasant prop of all

   my thoughts, ah, only ground

Of all the sweet delights that yet

   in all my life I found,

2735Did such assuréd trust

   within thy heart repose,

That in this place and at this time,

   thy churchyard thou hast chose

Betwixt the arms of me,

   thy perfect-loving make

And thus by means of me to end

   thy life, and for my sake?

Even in the flow’ring of

   thy youth, when unto thee

2740Thy life most dear, as to the most,

   and pleasant ought to be,

How could this  tender corpse

   withstand the cruel fight

Of furious Death, that wonts to fray

   the stoutest with his sight?

How could thy dainty youth

   agree with willing heart,

In this so foul-infected place

   to dwell, where now thou art?

2745Where spiteful Fortune hath

   appointed thee to be

The dainty food of greedy worms,

   unworthy, sure, of thee.

Alas, alas, alas,

   what needed now anew

My wonted sorrows, doubled twice,

   again thus to renew?

Which both the time and eke

   my patient long abode

2750Should now at length have quenchéd quite,

   and under foot have trode?

Ah, wretch and caitiff that

   I am, even when I thought

To find my painful passion’s salve,

   I missed the thing I sought;

And to my mortal harm

   the fatal knife I ground,

That gave to me so deep, so wide,

   so cruel deadly wound!

2755Ah thou, most  fortunate

   and most unhappy tomb!

For thou shalt bear,  from age to age,

   witness in time to come

Of the most perfect league

   betwixt a pair of lovers,

That were the most unfortunate

   and fortunate of others,

Receive the latter sigh,

   receive the latter pang,

2760Of the most cruel of cruel slaves

   that wrath and death aye wrang.”

217. The friar and Peter hear a noise and go away. [BOA:169] [PAI:169] [R&J-Q1:45.i] [R&J-Q2:45.i]And when our Juliet would

   continue still her moan,

The friar and the servant fled,

   and left her there alone;

For they a sudden noise

   fast by the place did hear,

And lest they might be taken there,

   greatly they stood in fear.

2765218. Juliet stabs herself with Romeus’ dagger and dies. The narrator addresses his female readers and comments on his own story-telling. [DP:102] [BAN:153] [BOA:170] [PAI:170] [R&J-Q1:46.c] [R&J-Q2:46.c]When Juliet saw herself

   left in the vault alone,

That freely she might work her will,

   for let or stay was none,

Then once for all she took

   the cause of all her harms,

The body dead of Romeus,

   and clasped it in her arms;

Then she with earnest kiss

   sufficiently did prove,

2770That more than by the fear of death,

   she was attaint by love;

And then past deadly fear,

   for life ne had she care,

With hasty hand she did draw out

   the dagger that he ware.

  “O welcome Death,” quoth she,

  “end of unhappiness,

That also art beginning of

   assuréd happiness,

2775Fear not to dart me now,

   thy stripe no longer stay,

Prolong no longer now my life,

   I hate this long delay;

For straight my parting sprite,

   out of this carcase fled,

At ease shall find my Romeus’ sprite

   among so many dead.

And thou my loving lord,

   Romeus, my trusty fere,

2780If knowledge yet do rest in thee,

   if thou these words dost hear,

Receive thou her whom thou

   didst love so lawfully,

That caused, alas, thy violent death,

   although unwillingly;

And therefore willingly

   offers to thee her ghost,

2785To th’end that no wight else but thou

   might have just cause to boast

Th’enjoying of my love,

   which aye 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 endless light and bliss

   may ever live y-fere.”

These said, her ruthless hand

   through-girt her valiant heart:

2790Ah, ladies, help with tears to wail

   the lady’s deadly smart!

She groans, she stretcheth out

   her limbs, she shuts her eyes,

And from her corpse the sprite doth fly;

   what should I say, she dies.

219. The watchmen of the town enter the monument and find the corpses, which they lodge underground. They apprehend the friar and Peter. [DP:103] [BAN:154] [BOA:171] [PAI:171] [R&J-Q1:46.b] [R&J-Q1:47.b] [R&J-Q2:46.b] [R&J-Q2:47.b]The watchmen of the town

   the whilst are passéd by,

And through the gates the candle-light

   within the tomb they spy;

2795Whereby they did suppose

   enchanters to be come,

That with prepared instruments

   had opened wide the tomb,

In purpose to abuse

   the bodies of the dead,

Which by their science’ aid abused,

   do stand them oft instead.

Their curious hearts desire

   the truth hereof to know;

2800Then they by certain steps descend,

   where they do find below,

In claspéd arms y-wrapt,

   the husband and the wife,

In whom as yet they seemed to see

   some certain marks of life.

But when more curiously

   with leisure they did view,

The certainty of both their deaths

   assuredly they knew:

2805Then here and there so long

   with careful eye they sought,

That at the length hidden they found

   the murd’rers; so they thought.

In dungeon deep that night

   they lodged them underground;

220. The next day they inform the Prince, and all the townspeople run to the monument. [DP:104] [DP:108] [BAN:155] [BAN:156] [BAN:157] [BOA:172] [PAI:172] [R&J-Q1:47.c] [R&J-Q1:47.d] [R&J-Q2:47.c] [R&J-Q2:47.d]The next day do they tell the prince

   the mischief that they found.

The news was by and by

   throughout the town dispread,

2810Both of the taking of the friar,

   and of the two found dead.

Thither might you have seen

   whole households forth to run,

For to the tomb where they did hear

   this wonder strange was done,

The great, the small, the rich,

   the poor, the young, the old,

With hasty pace do run to see,

   but rue when they behold.

2815221. The Prince orders that the corpses be exhibited upon a high stage, and that the two suspects be openly examined. [DP:108] [BOA:173] [PAI:173] [R&J-Q1:48.a] [R&J-Q2:48.a]And that the murderers

   to all men might be known,

Like as the murder’s bruit abroad

   through all the town was blown,

The prince did straight ordain,

   the corpses that were found

Should be set forth upon a stage

   high raiséd from the ground,

Right in the selfsame form,

   showed forth to all men’s sight,

2820That in the hollow vault they had

   been found that other night;

And eke that Romeus’ man

   and Friar Laurence should

Be openly examinéd;

   for else the people would

Have murmuréd, or feigned

   there were some weighty cause

Why openly they were not called,

   and so convict by laws.

2825The holy friar now,

   and reverent by his age,

In great reproach set to the show

   upon the open stage,

A thing that ill beseem’d

   a man of silver hairs,

His beard as white as milk he bathes

   with great fast-falling tears:

Whom straight the dreadful judge

   commandeth to declare

2830Both, how this murder had been done,

   and who the murd’rers are;

For that he near the tomb

   was found at hours unfit,

And had with him those iron tools

   for such a purpose fit.

The friar was of lively

   sprite and free of speech,

The judge’s words appalled him not,

   ne were his wits to seech,

2835But with advised heed

   a while first did he stay,

And then with bold assuréd voice

   aloud thus ’gan he say:

222. The friar clears himself and recapitulates the events. [DP:107] [BOA:174] [PAI:174] [R&J-Q1:48.b] [R&J-Q1:48.c] [R&J-Q2:48.b] [R&J-Q2:48.c]“My lords, there is not one

   among you, set together,

So that, affection set aside,

   by wisdom he consider

My former passéd life,

   and this my extreme age,

2840And eke this heavy sight, the wreak

   of frantic Fortune’s rage,

But that, amazéd much,

   doth wonder at this change,

So great, so suddenly befall’n,

   unlooked for, and strange.

For I, that in the space

   of sixty years and ten,

Since first I did begin, too soon,

   to lead my life with men,

2845And with the world’s vain things,

   myself I did acquaint,

Was never yet, in open place,

   at any time attaint

With any crime, in weight

   as heavy as a rush,

Ne is there any stander-by

   can make me guilty blush,

Although before the face

   of God, I do confess

2850Myself to be the sinfull’st wretch

   of all this mighty press.

When readiest I am

   and likeliest to make

My great accompt, which no man else

   for me shall undertake;

When worms, the earth, and death,

   do cite me every hour,

T’appear before the judgment seat

   of everlasting power,

2855And falling ripe, I step

   upon my grave’s brink,

Even then, am I, most wretched wight,

   as each of you doth think,

Through my most heinous deed,

   with headlong sway thrown down,

In greatest danger of my life,

   and domage of renown.

The spring, whence in your head

   this new conceit doth rise,

2860And in your heart increaseth still

   your vain and wrong surmise,

May be the hugeness of

   these tears of mine, percase,

That so abundantly down fall

   by either side my face;

As though the memory

   in Scriptures were not kept

That Christ our Saviour himself

   for ruth and pity wept;

2865And more, whoso will read,

   y-written shall he find,

That tears are as true messengers

   of man’s unguilty mind.

Or else, a liker proof,

   that I am in the crime,

You say these present irons are,

   and the suspected time;

As though all hours alike

   had not been made above.

2870Did Christ not say,  the day had twelve?

   whereby he sought to prove,

That no respect of hours

   ought justly to be had,

But at all times men have the choice

   of doing good or bad;

Even as the sprite of God

   the hearts of men doth guide,

Or as it leaveth them to stray

   from virtue’s path aside.

2875As for the irons that

   were taken in my hand,

As now I deem, I need not seek

   to make ye understand

To what use iron first

   was made, when it began;

How of itself it helpeth  not,

   ne yet can help a man.

The thing that hurteth is

   the malice of his will,

2880That such indifferent things is wont

   to use and order ill.

Thus much I thought to say,

   to cause you so to know

That neither these my piteous tears,

   though ne’er so fast they flow,

Ne yet these iron tools,

   nor the suspected time,

Can justly prove the murder done,

   or damn me of the crime:

2885No one of these hath power,

   ne power have all the three,

To make me other than I am,

   how so I seem to be.

But sure my conscience,

   if so my guilt deserve,

For an appeacher, witness, and

   a hangman, eke should serve;

For through mine age, whose hairs

   of long time since were hoar,

2890And credit great that I was in,

   with you, in time tofore,

And eke the sojourn short

   that I on earth must make,

That every day and hour do look

   my journey hence to take,

My conscience inwardly

   should more torment me thrice,

Than all the outward deadly pain

   that all you could devise.

2895But, God I praise, I feel

   no worm that gnaweth me,

And from remorse’s pricking sting

   I joy that I am free:

I mean, as touching this,

   wherewith you troubled are,

Wherewith you should be troubled still,

   if I my speech should spare.

But to the end I may

   set all your hearts at rest,

2900And pluck out all the scruples that

   are rooted in your breast,

Which might perhaps henceforth,

   increasing more and more,

Within your conscience also

   increase your cureless sore,

I swear by yonder heavens,

   whither I hope to climb,

And for a witness of my words

   my heart attesteth Him,

2905Whose mighty hand doth wield

   them in their violent sway,

And on the rolling stormy seas

   the heavy earth doth stay,

That I will make a short

   and eke a true discourse

Of this most woeful tragedy,

   and show both th’end and source

Of their unhappy death,

   which you perchance no less

2910Will wonder at than they, alas,

   poor lovers in distress,

Tormented much in mind,

   not forcing lively breath,

With strong and patient heart did

   yield themself to cruel death:

Such was the mutual love

   wherein they burnéd both,

And of their promised friendship’s faith

   so steady was the troth.”

2915And then the ancient friar

   began to make discourse,

Even from the first, of Romeus’

   and Juliet’s amours;

How first by sudden sight

   the one the other chose,

And ’twixt themself did knit the knot

   which only death might loose;

And how, within a while,

   with hotter love oppressed,

2920Under confession’s cloak, to him

   themself they have addressed,

And how with solemn oaths

   they have protested both,

That they in heart are married

   by promise and by oath;

And that except he grant

   the rites of church to give,

They shall be forced by earnest love

   in sinful state to live:

2925Which thing when he had weighed,

   and when he understood

That the agreement ’twixt them twain

   was lawful, honest, good,

And all things peiséd well,

   it seeméd meet to be,

For like they were of nobleness,

   age, riches, and degree:

Hoping that so, at length,

   ended might be the strife,

2930Of Montagues and Capulets,

   that led in hate their life,

Thinking to work a work

   well pleasing in God’s sight,

In secret shrift he wedded them;

   and they the self-same night

Made up the marriage

   in house of Capulet,

As well doth know, if she be asked,

   the nurse of Juliet.

2935He told how Romeus fled

   for reaving Tybalt’s life,

And how, the whilst, Paris the earl

   was offered to his wife;

And how the lady did

   so great a wrong disdain,

2940And how to shrift unto his church

   she came to him again;

And how she fell flat down

   before his feet aground,

And how she sware, her hand

   and bloody knife should wound

Her harmless heart, except

   that he some mean did find

To disappoint the earl’s attempt;

   and spotless save her mind.

Wherefore, he doth conclude,

   although that long before

By thought of death and age he had

   refused for evermore

2945The hidden arts which he

   delighted in, in youth,

Yet won by her importun’ness,

   and by his inward ruth,

And fearing lest she would

   her cruel vow discharge

His closed conscience he had

   opened and set at large;

And rather did he choose

   to suffer for one time

2950His soul to be spotted somedeal

   with small and easy crime,

Than that the lady should,

   weary of living breath,

Murder herself, and danger much

   her seely soul by death:

Wherefore his ancient arts

   again he puts in ure,

A certain powder gave he her,

   that made her sleep so sure,

2955That they her held for dead;

   and how that Friar John

With letters sent to Romeus

   to Mantua is gone;

Of whom he knoweth not

   as yet, what is become;

And how that dead he found his friend

   within her kindred’s tomb.

He thinks with poison strong,

   for care the young man starved,

2960Supposing Juliet dead; and how

   that Juliet hath carved,

With Romeus’ dagger drawn,

   her heart, and yielded breath,

Desirous to accompany

   her lover after death;

And how they could not save

   her, so they were afeard,

And hid themself, dreading the noise

   of watchmen, that they heard.

2965And for the proof of this

   his tale, he doth desire

The judge to send forthwith

   to Mantua for the friar,

To learn his cause of stay,

   and eke to read his letter;

And, more beside, to th’end that they

   might judge his cause the better,

He prayeth them depose

   the nurse of Juliet,

2970And Romeus’ man whom at unwares

   beside the tomb he met.

223. Peter confirms the friar’s words and produces Romeus’ letter. [BOA:175] [PAI:175] [R&J-Q1:48.e] [R&J-Q1:48.f] [R&J-Q2:48.e] [R&J-Q2:48.f]Then Peter, not so much

   erst as he was, dismayed;

My lords,” quoth he, “too true is all

   that Friar Laurence said.

And when my master went

   into my mistress’ grave,

This letter that I offer you,

   unto me then he gave,

2975Which he himself did write,

   as I do understand,

And charged me to offer them

   unto his father’s hand.”

The opened packet doth

   contain in it the same

That erst the skilful friar said;

   and eke the wretch’s name

That had at his request

   the deadly poison sold,

2980The price of it, and why he bought,

   his letters plain have told.

The case unfolded so

   and open now it lies,

That they could wish no better proof,

   save seeing it with their eyes;

So orderly all things

   were told and triéd out,

That in the press there was not one

   that stood at all in doubt.

2985224. The Prince’s sentence: the nurse is banished, Peter and the friar are acquitted, the apothecary is sentenced to death. [BAN:158] [BOA:176] [PAI:176] [R&J-Q1:49.f] [R&J-Q2:49.f]The wiser sort, to council

   called by Escalus,

Have given advice, and Escalus

   sagely decreeth thus:

The nurse of Juliet

   is banished in her age,

Because that from the parents she

   did hide the marriage,

Which might have wrought much good

   had it in time been known,

2990Where now by her concealing it

   a mischief great is grown;

And Peter, for he did

   obey his master’s hest,

In wonted freedom had good leave

   to lead his life in rest,

Th’apothecary high

   is hangéd by the throat,

And for the pains he took with him

   the hangman had his coat.

2995But now what shall betide

   of this grey-bearded sire?

Of Friar Laurence thus arraigned,

   that good barefooted friar

Because that many times

   he worthily did serve

The commonwealth, and in his life

   was never found to swerve,

He was dischargéd quite,

   and no mark of defame

3000Did seem to blot or touch at all

   the honour of his name.

225. The friar goes into a hermitage near Verona and dies after five years. [BOA:177] [PAI:177]But of himself he went

   into an hermitage,

Two miles from Verona town, where he

   in prayers passed forth his age;

Till that from earth to heaven

   his heavenly sprite did fly,

Five years he lived an hermit and

   an hermit did he die.

3005226. The feuding families reconcile. [DP:109] [BAN:159] [BOA:178] [PAI:178] [R&J-Q1:49.c] [R&J-Q2:49.c]The strangeness of the chance,

   when triéd was the truth,

The Montagues and Capulets

   hath moved so to ruth,

That with their emptied tears

   their choler and their rage

Was emptied quite; and they, whose wrath

   no wisdom could assuage,

Nor threat’ning of the prince,

   ne mind of murders done,

3010At length, so mighty Jove it would,

   by pity they are won.

227. The two lovers are placed into the same tomb on a stately marble pillar adorned with many epitaphs on every side. [DP:110] [BAN:158] [BAN:160] [BOA:179] [PAI:179] [R&J-Q1:49.d] [R&J-Q1:49.e] [R&J-Q2:49.d] [R&J-Q2:49.e]And lest that length of time

   might from our minds remove

The memory of so perfect, sound,

   and so approvéd love,

The bodies dead, removed

   from vault where they did die,

In stately tomb, on pillars great

   of marble, raise they high.

3015On every side above

   were set, and eke beneath,

Great store of cunning epitaphs,

   in honour of their death.

And even at this day

   the tomb is to be seen;

So that among the monuments

   that in Verona been,

There is no monument

   more worthy of the sight,

3020Than is the tomb of Juliet

   and Romeus her knight.

Imprinted at London in Fleet street within Temple bar, at the sign of the hand and star, by Richard Tottill the xix. day of November. An. do. 1562.