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For 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,

A 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."

She that this morning could her mistress' mind dissuade,

Is 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;

And 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.

Of Romeus these two do sit and chat awhile,

And to themself they laugh how they the mother shall beguile.

A 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.

The Saturday betimes, in sober weed y-clad,

She 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.

She 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,

If 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."

Then turning to the nurse and to the other maid,

"Go, hear a mass or two," quod 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."

What, was not Juliet, trow you, right well apaid?

That 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.

Thus to the friar's cell they both forth walkéd bin;

He shuts the door as soon as he and Juliet were in.

But 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,

For 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:

"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?"

And 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;

How that the wife in love must honour and obey,

What love and honour he doth owe, and debt that he must pay.