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"O welcome Death," quoth she, "end of unhappiness,

That also art beginning of assuréd happiness,

Fear not to dart me now, thy stripe no longer stay,

Prolong no longer now my life, I hate this long delay;

For straight my parting sprite, out of this carcase fled,

At ease shall find my Romeus' sprite among so many dead.

And thou my loving lord, Romeus, my trusty fere,

If knowledge yet do rest in thee, if thou these words dost hear,

Receive thou her whom thou didst love so lawfully,

That caused, alas, thy violent death, although unwillingly;

And therefore willingly offers to thee her ghost,

To th'end that no wight else but thou might have just cause to boast

Th'enjoying of my love, which aye I have reserved

Free from the rest, bound unto thee, that hast it well deserved;

That so our parted sprites from light that we see here,

In place of endless light and bliss may ever live y-fere."

These said, her ruthless hand through-girt her valiant heart:

Ah, ladies, help with tears to wail the lady's deadly smart!

She groans, she stretcheth out her limbs, she shuts her eyes,

And from her corpse the sprite doth fly; -- what should I say -- she dies.

The watchmen of the town the whilst are passéd by,

And through the gates the candle-light within the tomb they spy;

Whereby they did suppose enchanters to be come,

That with prepared instruments had opened wide the tomb,

In purpose to abuse the bodies of the dead,

Which by their science' aid abused, do stand them oft in stead.

Their curious hearts desire the truth hereof to know;

Then they by certain steps descend, where they do find below,

In claspéd arms y-wrapt, the husband and the wife,

In whom as yet they seemed to see some certain marks of life.

But when more curiously with leisure they did view,

The certainty of both their deaths assuredly they knew:

Then here and there so long with careful eye they sought,

That at the length hidden they found the murth'rers; -- so they thought.

In dungeon deep that night they lodged them underground;

The next day do they tell the prince the mischief that they found.

The news was by and by throughout the town dispread,

Both of the taking of the friar, and of the two found dead.

Thither might you have seen whole households forth to run,

For to the tomb where they did hear this wonder strange was done,

The great, the small, the rich, the poor, the young, the old,

With hasty pace do run to see, but rue when they behold.

And that the murtherers to all men might be known,

Like as the murder's bruit abroad through all the town was blown,

The prince did straight ordain, the corses that were found

Should be set forth upon a stage high raiséd from the ground,

Right in the selfsame form, showed forth to all men's sight,

That in the hollow vault they had been found that other night;

And eke that Romeus' man and Friar Laurence should

Be openly examinéd; for else the people would

Have murmuréd, or feigned there were some weighty cause

Why openly they were not called, and so convict by laws.

The holy friar now, and reverent by his age,

In great reproach set to the show upon the open stage, --

A thing that ill beseemed a man of silver hairs, --

His beard as white as milk he bathes with great fast-falling tears:

Whom straight the dreadful judge commandeth to declare

Both, how this murther had been done, and who the murth'rers are;

For that he near the tomb was found at hours unfit,

And had with him those iron tools for such a purpose fit.

The friar was of lively sprite and free of speech,

The judge's words appalled him not, ne were his wits to seech,

But with advised heed a while first did he stay,

And then with bold assuréd voice aloud thus 'gan he say:

"My lords, there is not one among you, set together,

So that, affection set aside, by wisdom he consider

My former passéd life, and this my extreme age,

And eke this heavy sight, the wreak of frantic Fortune's rage,

But that, amazéd much, doth wonder at this change,

So great, so suddenly