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This 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

She 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

To see in wedlock yoke the most part of her feres,

Whilst only she unmarriéd 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;

For 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."

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;

Scarce 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,

That 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,

Than 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."

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,

As also well brought up, and wise; her father's only heir.

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,

Both 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;

Ne did she seek to hide her joys within her heart,

But 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,

With 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.

When Juliet conceived her parents' whole intent,

Whereto both love and reason's right forbode 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 spake,

But with unwonted boldness straight into these words she brake:

"Madam, I marvel much that you so lavas are

Of me your child, your jewel once, your only joy and care,

As thus to yield