ABSTRACT
Romeo and Juliet Fyrst, softly dyd she call, then lowder thus did crye, Lady, you slepe to long, (the Earle) will rayse you by and by, But wele away, in vayne unto the deafe she calles, She thinkes to speake to Juliet, but speaketh to the walles. 2410 If all the dredfull noyse, that might on earth be found, Or on the roaring seas, or if the dredfull thunders sound Had blowne into her eares, I thinke they could not make, The sleping wight before the time by any meanes awake: So were the sprites of lyfe shut up, and senses thrald, Wherwith the seely carefull nurce was wondrously apalde. She thought to daw her now as she had donne of olde, But loe, she found her parts were stiffe, and more then marble
co Ide, Neither at mouth nor nose, found she recourse of breth; Two certaine argumentes were these, of her untimely death. 2420 Wherfore as one distraught, she to her mother ranne, With scratched face, and heare betorne, but no woord speake she
can. At last (with much a doe) dead (quoth she) is my childe. Now, out alas (the mother cryde) and as a Tyger wilde, Whose whelpes whilst she is gonne out of her denne to prey, The hunter gredy of his game, doth kill or cary away: So, rageing forth she ranne, unto her Juliets bed, And there she found her derling, and her onely comfort ded. Then shriked she out as lowde, as serve her would her breth, And then (that pity was to heare) thus cryde she out on
death. 2430 Ah cruell death (quoth she) that thus against all right Hast ended my felicitie, and robde my hartes delight, Do now thy worst to me, once wreake thy wrath for all, Even in despite I crye to thee thy vengeance let thou fall. Wherto stay I (alas) since Juliet is gone? Wherto live I since she is dead, except to wayle and mone? Alacke, dere chyld, my teares for thee shall never cease; Even as my dayes of life increase, so shall my plaint increase. Such store of sorow shall afflict my tender hart, That dedly panges when they assayle, shall not augment my
smart. 2440 Then gan she so to sobbe, it seemde her hart would brast, And while she crieth thus, behold the father at the last, The County Paris, and of gentilmen a route, And ladies of Verona towne, and country round about, Both kindreds and alies, thether apace have preast,
