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And in his stead take mine, the gage of my good will. --

One promise crave I at your hand, that grant me to fulfil;

Fail 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."

His eyes did gush out tears, a sigh brake from his breast,

When 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.

But now, somewhat too soon, in farthest east arose

Fair Lucifer, the golden star that lady Venus chose;

Whose 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

When 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.

Then 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.

Then careful Romeus again to cell returns,

And 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

Then 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.

The weary watch discharged did hie them home to sleep,

The warders and the scouts were charged their place and course to keep,

And Verone gates awide the porters had set open,

When Romeus had of his affairs with Friar Laurence spoken.

Warely he walked forth, unknown of friend or foe,

Clad like a merchant venturer, from top even to the toe.

He spurred apace, and came, withouten stop or stay,

To Mantua gates, where lighted down, he sent his man away

With words of comfort to his old afflicted sire;

And straight, in mind to sojourn there, a lodging doth he hire,

And with the nobler sort he doth himself acquaint,

And 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;

No 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,

Then 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.

Each 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,

The 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