ABSTRACT
Restraynd her teares, and forced her tong to keepe her talke in store.
And then as still she was, as if in s[w]ownd she lay, And then agayne, wroth with her selfe, with feble voyce gan say.
Ah cruell murthering tong, murthrer of others fame, How durst thou once attempt to tooch the honor of his name? Whose dedly foes doe yelde him dewe and earned prayse, For though his fredome be bereft, his honor not decayes. Why blamst thou Romeus for sleying of Tybalt, Since he is gyltles quite of all, and Tybalt beares the fait? 1150 Whether shall he (alas), poore banishd man, now flye? What place of succor shall he seeke beneth the starry skye, Synce she pursueth him, and him defames by wrong That in distres should be his fort, and onely rampier strong? Receive the recompence, 0 Romeus, of thy wife,
