Volume 2 — The Palace of Pleasure. (continued 2)

THE TWENTY-FOURTH NOUELL.

The disordered Lyfe of the Countesse of Celant, and how shee (causinge the County of Masino to be murdered,) was beheaded at Millan.

Not wythout good cause of long tyme haue the wyse, and discrete, Prudently gouerned their Children, and taken great heede ouer their Daughters, and those also whom they haue chosen to bee their Wyues, not in vsing them lyke Bondwomen, and Slaues, to beereiue them of all Liberty, but rather to auoyde the murmur, and secrete slaunderous Speach of the common people, and occasions offred for infection, and marrying of Youth, specially circumspect of the assaultes bent agaynst Maydens, being yet in the firste flames of fire, kindled by nature in the hearts, yea of those that be the wysest, and best brought vp. Some doe deeme it very straunge, that solempne Guard bee obserued ouer those which ought to lyue at lyberty, and doe consider how lyberty and the bridle of Lycence let slip vnto Youth, they breede vnto the same most strong and tedious Bondage, that better it had bene for youth to haue beene chayned, and closed in obscure Pryson, than marked wyth those blottes of infamy, which Sutch Lycence and Lyberty doe conduce. If England doe not by experience see Maydens of Noble Houses Infamed through to mutch vnbrideled, and frank maner of Lyfe, and their Parents desolate for sutch villanyes, and the name of their houses become Fabulous and Ridiculous to the people: surely that manner of Espiall and watch ouer Children, may be noted in Nations not very farre conuening from vs, where men be Ielous of the very Fantasie of them, whom they think to be indued with great vertues, and of those that dare with their very Lookes geue attaynt, to behold their Daughters: but where examples be euident, where all the World is assured of that which they see by daily experience, that the fruicts of the disordered, breake out into light, it behooueth no more to attend the daungerous customes of Countreyes, to condescend to the sottish Opinions of those, whych say that youth to narrowly looked vnto, is trayned vp in sutch grosenesse, and blockishnesse of spyrite, as impossible it is afterwardes the same shoulde do any thinge prayse worthy. The Romayne maydens whilom were Cloystered within their Fathers Pallaces, still at their Mothers Elbowes, and notwithstanding were so wel brought vp, that those of best ciuility and finest trained vp in our age, shall not be the seconde to one of the least perfect in the Citty. But who can learne ciuility and vertue in these our dayes? our Daughters nousled in companies, whose mouthes run ouer with Whorish and filthy talke, wyth behauiour full of Ribauldry, and many fraughted wyth facts lesse honest than Speach is able to expresse. I doe not pretend heereby to depriue that sexe of honest and seemely talke, and company, and leste of exercise amonges the Noble Gentlemen of our Englyshe Soyle, ne yet of the Liberty receyued from our Auncestours, only (me thyncke) that requisite it were to contemplate the manners and inclination of wils, and refrayne those that be prone to wantonnesse, and by lyke meanes to reioyce the mindes of them that be bent to heauinesse, deuided from curtefie and Ciuility, by attendinge of whych choyse, and considering of that difference, impossible it is but vertue must shyne more bright in Noble houses than homelynesse in Cabanes of Pesauntes, and Countrey Carles: who oftentymes better obserue the Discipline of our Predecessours in education of their Chyldren, than they which presume to prayse themselues for good skil in vse and gouernment of that age, more troublesome and payneful to rule, than any other wythin the compasse of man’s lyfe. Therefore the good and wise Emperour Marcus Aurelius would not haue his Daughters to be trayned vp in Courts. “For (quod he) what profit shall the Nurse receyue by learning hir mayden honesty and vertue, when our workes intice them to daliaunce and vice, apprehending the folly of those that bee amorous?” I make this discourse, not that I am so rigorous a Iudge for our maydens of England, but that I wish them so reformed, as to see and be seene should be forbidden, as assured that vertue in what place so euer she be, cannot but open things that shall fauor of hir excellency. And now to talke of an Italian Dame, who so long as hir first husband (knowing hir inclination) kept hir subiect, liued in reputation of a modest and sober wyfe. Nothing was seene in hir that could defame hir renoume. But so soone as the shadow of that free captiuity was made free by the death of hir husband, God knoweth what pageant she played, and how shee soyled both hir owne reputation, and the honour of hir second Mate, as yee shall vnderstande if with pacience yee vouchsafe to reade the discourse of thys present Hystory. Casal, (as it is not vnknowen) is a Citty of Piedmont, and subiect to the Marquize of Montferrato, where dwelled one that was very rich, although of base birth, named Giachomo Scappardone, who being growne wealthy, more by wicked art, and vsury, to mutch manifest, than by his owne diligence, toke to Wife a yong Greeke mayden, which the Marchiones of Montferrato mother of Marquize Guglielmo, had brought home wyth hir from the voyage that shee made into Grætia wyth hir husbande, when the Turkes ouerran the countrey of Macedonia, and seased vpon the Citty of Modena which is in Morea. Of that mayden Scapperdone had a Daughter indifferent fayre, and of behauiour liuely and pleasaunt, called Bianca Maria. The Father dyed wythin a while after hir birth, as one that was of good yeares, and had bin greatly turmoyled in getting of riches, whose value amounted about one Hundred Thousand Crownes. Bianca Maria arriued to the age of sixteene, or seuenteene yeares, was required of many, aswell for hir Beauty, Gentlenes, and good grace, as for her goods, and riches. In the ende she was maried to the Vicecount Hermes, the Sonne of one of the chiefest Houses in Millan, who incontinently after the mariage, conueyed hir home to hys house, leauing his Greeke mother to gouerne the vsuries gotten by hir dead husband. The Gentleman which amongs two greene, knew one that was ripe, hauing for a certayne tyme well knowen, and learned the maners of hys Wyfe, saw that it behooued hym rather to deale wyth the Bit and brydle than the spur, for that she was wanton, full of desire, and coueted nothing so mutch as fond and disordered liberty, and therefore without cruell dealing, disquiet, or trouble, hee vsed by little and little to keepe hir in, and cherished hir more than his nature willingly would suffer, of purpose to holde hir wythin the boundes of duty. And although the Millan Dames haue almost like lyberties that ours haue, yet the Lord Hermes kept hir wythin Dores, and suffred hir to frequent none other house and company, but the Lady Hippolita Sforcia, who vppon a day demaunded of him wherefore hee kept in his wyfe so short, and persuaded hym to geue her somewhat more the Brydle, bicause diuers already murmured of this order, as to strayte and Frowarde, esteeming hym eyther to be to mutch fond ouer hir, or else to Jealous. “Madame,” sayde the Millanoise, “they whych at pleasure so speake of me, know not yet the nature of my Wyfe, who I had rather should be somewhat restrayned, than run at Rouers to hir dishonour, and my shame. I remember wel madame the proper saying of Paulus Emilius that notable Romane: who being demauned wherefore he had put away his Wyfe being a Gentlewoman so fayre and beautifull. ‘O,’ quod he and lifted vp his leg (whereupon was a new payre of Buskins) ‘yee see this fayre Buskin, meete and seemely for this Leg to outward apparance not greeuous or noysome, but in what place it hurteth me, or where it wringeth yee doe neyther see nor yet feele.’ So I, madame, do feele in what place my Hoase doeth hurt and wring my Legge. I know madame what it is to graunt to so wanton a dame as my Wyfe is, hir will, and how farre I ought to slip the rayne: iealous I am not vpon the fayth I beare vnto God, but I feare what may chaunce vnto me. And by my trouth, madame, I geeue her Lycence to repayre to you both Day and Nyght, at whatsoeuer hour you please, being assured of the vertuous company that haunteth your house: otherwyse my Pallace shall suffyce hir pleasure for the common ioy of vs both, and therefore I wish no more talk hereof, least too importunate suites do offend my nature, and make me thinke that to be true whych of good will I am loth to suspect, contenting my selfe with hir Chastity, for feare least to mutch liberty do corrupt hir.” These words were not spoken wythout cause, for the wyse husband saw wel that sutch beasts, albeit rudely they ought not to be vsed, yet stifly to be holden short, and not suffred too mutch to wander at will. And verily his prophecy was to true for respect of that which followed: who had not bene maried full VI. yeares, but the Vicecount Hermes departed thys World, whereof she was very sory bycause she loued him derely, hauing as yet not tasted the licorous baites of sutch liberty, as afterwards she drank in gluttonous draughts, when after hir husband’s obsequies, she retired to Montferrato, and then to Casal to hir Father’s house, hir mother being also dead, and she a lone woman to ioy at pleasure the fruict of hir desires, bendinge hir only study to gay and trimme Apparell, and imployed the mornings with the vermilion rud to colour hir cheekes by greater curiosity than the most shamelesse Curtisan of Rome, fixing hir eyes vppon ech man, gyring, and laughing with open mouth, and pleasantly disposed to talk and reason with euery Gentleman that passed by the streate. This was the way to attayne the glorious feast of hir triumphant filthines, who wan the prise aboue the most famous women whych in hir tyme made profession of those armes, wherewith Venus once dispoyled Mars, and toke from him the strongest and best steeled armure of all his furniture. Thinck not fayre maydes, that talk and clattering with youth is of small regarde. For a Citty is halfe won when they within demaunde for parle, as loth to indure the Canon shot. So when the eare of yong Wyfe or mayde is pliant to lasciuious talk, and deliteth in wanton words, albeit hir chastity receyue no damage, yet occasion of speach is ministred to the people, and perchaunce wyth sutch disaduantage, as neuer after hir good name is recouered. Wherefore needefull it is, not only to auoyde the effect of euill, but also the least suspition: for good fame is requisite for the Woman, as honest lyfe. The great Captain Iulius Cæsar, (which first of al reduced the common wealth of Rome in fourme of monarchie) beinge once demaunded wherefore hee hadde refused hys Wyfe before it was proued that she had offended with Clodius, the night of the sacrifices done to the Goddesse Bona, answered so wysely as truely, that the house of Cæsar ought not onely to be voyde of whordome but of suspition therof. Behold therfore what I haue sayd, and yet doe say againe, that ye oughte to take greate heede to youre selues, and to laugh in tyme, not reclinyng your eares to vncomely talke, but rather to follow the nature of the Serpent, that stoppeth his eare with his tayle, to auoide the charms and sorceries of the Enchaunter. Now this Bianca Maria was sued vnto, and pursued of many at Casall that desired hir to Wyfe, and amonges the rest two did profer themselues, which were the Lord Gismondo Gonzaga, the neere kinsman of the Duke of Mantua, and the Counte of Celant, a great Baron of Sauoy, whose landes lie in the vale of Agosta. A great pastyme it was to thys fyne Gentlewoman to feede hir self wyth the Orations of those two Lordes and a ioye it was to hir, to vse her owne discourse and aunswers expressinge with right good grace sundry amorous countenances, intermingling therwithall sighes, sobbes, and alteration of cheere, that full well it might haue bene sayde, of loue trickes that shee was the only dame and mistresse. The Marchyonesse of Montferrato desirous to gratify the Lord of Mantua his sonne in law, endeuored to induce this wanton Lady to take for spouse Gismondo Gonzaga, and the sute so well proceeded, as almost the mariage had bene concluded if the Sauoy Earle had not come betwixte, and shewed forth his Noblenesse of minde, when he vnderstode how things did passe, and that another was ready to beare away the pryse, and recouer his mistresse. For that cause he came to visit the Lady, who intertayned him wel, as of custom she did al other. And for that he would not employe hys tyme in vayne, when he founde hir alone and at conuenyent leysure, began to preache vnto hir in thys wyse with sutch countenaunce, as she perceyued the Counte to be far in loue with hir.

The Oration of the Counte of Celant to his Ladye.

“I am in doubt Madame, of whome chiefly I ought to make complaynt, whether of you, or of my selfe, or rather of fortune which guideth and bryngeth us together. I see wel that you receiue some wrong, and that my cause is not very iust, you taking no regarde vnto my passion which is outragious, and lesse hearkeninge vnto my request that so many times I haue giuen you to vnderstand onely grounded vpon the Honest loue I beare you. But I am besides this more to be accused for suffering an other to marche so far over my game and soyle, as I haue almost lost the tracte of the pray after which I most desire, and specially doe condemne my Fortune, for that I am in daunger to lose the thyng which I deserue, and you in peryll to passe into that place where your captiuity shalbe worse than the slaues by the Portugales condemned to the mines of India. Doeth it not suffise you that the Lord Hermes closed you vp the space of V. or VI. yeares in his Chamber, but wil you nedes attempt the rest of your youthly daies amid the Mantuanes, whose suspicious heads are ful of hammers working in the same? Better it were madame, that we approchynge neerer the gallante guise of Fraunce, should live after the lyberty of that Countrey, than bee captiue to an Italian house, whych wyll restrain you with like bondage, as at other tymes you have felt the experience. Moreover ye see what opinion is like to be conceiued of you, when it shalbe bruted that for the Marquize feare, you haue maried the Mantuan Lord. And I know well that you like not to be esteemed as a pupil, your nature cannot abyde compulsion, you be free from hir authority, it were no reason you should be constrained. And not to stay in framing of orations, or stand vpon discourse of Words, I humbly beseche you to behold the constant loue I beare you, and being a Gentleman so Wealthy as I am, none other cause induceth me to make this sute, but your good grace and bryngynge vp, whych force me to loue you aboue any other Gentlewoman that liueth. And althoughe I myghte alleage other reasons to proue my saying, yet referre I my self to the experience and bounty of youre mynd, and to the equity of your Iudgement. If my passion were not vehement, and my torment without comparison, I would wish my fained griefs to be laughed to scorne, and my dissembled payne rewarded with flouts. But my loue being sincere and pure, my trauail continuall, and my griefs endlesse, for pity sake I beseche you madame to consider my faithfull deserts with your duetiful curtesie, and then shall you see how mutch I ought to be preferred before them, which vnder the shadow of other mens puissance, do seke to purchase power to commaund you: where I do faithfully bynd and tye my word and deede continually to loue and serue you, wyth promyse al the dayes of my Lyfe to accomplish your commaundements. Beholde if it please you what I am, and with what affection I make mine humble playnt, regard the Messanger, loue it is himself that holdeth me within your snares, and maketh mee captyue to your beauty and gallant graces, which haue no piere. But if you refuse my sute, and cause me breath my words into the aire, you shalbe accused of cruelty, ye shall see the entier defaict of a gentleman which loueth you better than loue himselfe is able to yelde flame and fire to force any wight to loue mortal creature. But, verily, I beleue the heauens haue departed in me sutch aboundance, to the intent in louyng you with vehemence so greate, you may also thinke that it is I which ought to be the Friend and spouse of that gentle and curteous Lady Bianca Maria, which alone may cal her self the mistresse of my Heart.” The Ladye whych before was mocked and flouted wyth the Counte his demaunds, hearing thys laste discourse, and remembring his first mariage, and the natural iealosie of Italyans, half wonne, without making other countenance, answered the Counte in thys manner: “Syr counte, albeyt that I am obedyente to the wyll and commaundemente of madame the Marchyonesse, and am loth to dysplease hir, yet wil I not so farre gage my lybertye, but still reserue one poynt to saye what reasteth in my thoughte. And what shoulde lette me to chose sutch one, to whome I shalbe both his life and death? And whereof beinge once possed, it is impossyble to be rid and acquited? I assure you, if I feared not the speach and suspition of malycious mindes, and the venime of slaunderous Tongues, neuer husband should bryng me more to bondage. And if I thought that he whom I pretend to chose, would be so cruel to me, as others whom I know, I would presently refuse mariage for euer. I thanke you neuerthelesse, both of your aduertisements giuen me, and of the honor you doe me, your self desiryng to accomplish that honor by maryage to be celebrated betweene vs. For the fidelity of which your talke, and the little dissimulation I see to be in you, I promise you that there is no gentleman in this countrey to whom I giue more puissance ouer me, than to you, if I chaunce to mary, and thereof make you so good assurance, as if it were already done.” The Counte seeing so good an entry would not suffer the tyme to slip, but beating the Bushes vntill the praye was ready to spryng, replyed: “And sith you know (madame) what thing is profitable, and what is hurtfull, and that the benefite of lyberty is so mutch recommended, why doe you not performe the thinge that may redounde to your honor? Assure mee then of your word, and promise me the faith and loyaltie of maryage, then let me alone to deale wyth the rest, for I hope to attayn the effect without offense and displeasure of any.” And seeing hir to remaine in a muse without speaking word, he toke hir by the hand and kissing the same a million of tymes, added these Words: “How now, madame, be you appalled for so pleasaunt an assault, wherin your aduersary confesseth himselfe to be vanquished? Courage, madame, I say courage, and beholde him heere which humbly praieth you to receiue him for your lawfull husband, and who sweareth vnto you all sutch amitye and reuerence that husband oweth to hys loyall spouse.” “Ah, syr Counte,” sayd she, “and what wyll the Marquize say, vnto whom I haue wholly referred my self for mariage? shal not she haue iust occasion to frowne vppon mee, and frowardly to vse me for little respect I beare vnto hir? God be my witnesse if I would not that Gonzaga had neuer come into this countrey: for although I loue him not, yet I haue almost made him a promyse, which I can not kepe.” “And sith there is nothing don,” (said the Sauoy Lord) “what nede you to torment your selfe? wyl the Marquize wrecke hir tyrannie ouer the will of hir subiectes, and force Ladyes of hir Lande to marie againste their luste? I thinke that so wyse a princesse, and so well nurtured, will not so far forget hir self, as to straine that which God hath left at lyberty to euerye wight: promise me onely maryage and leaue me to deale wyth the rest: other thynges shalbe wel prouided for.” Bianca Maria vanquished with that importunity, and fearing againe to fal into seruytude, hoping that the Counte would mainteine sutch liberty as he had assured, agreed vnto hym and plyghted vnto him her faithe, and for the tyme vsed mutuall promises by wordes respectiuely one to another: and the better to confirme the fact, and to let the knotte from breakyng, they bedded themselues togethers. The Counte very ioyfull for that encountre, yelded sutch good beginning by his countenance, and by Famyliar and continuall haunte with Bianca Maria, as shortly after the matter was knowen and came to the Marquesse eares, that the Daughter of Scappardone had maryed the Counte of Celant. The good lady albeit that shee was wroth beyond measure, and willingly would haue ben reuenged vpon the bride, yet hauing respect to the Counte, which was a noble man of great authority, swallowed down that pille wythout chewing, and prayed the Lord Gonzaga not to be offended, who seing the light behauiour of the Ladie, laughed at the matter, and praysed God for that the thing was so wel broken off: and he did foresee already what issue that Comedye would haue, beynge very famylyar for certayne Dayes in the House of Bianca Maria. Thys maryage then was publyshed, and the solempnity of the Nuptyals were done very pryncely, accordyng to the Nobylity of hym whych had maryed hir: but the augurie and presage was heauy, and the melancholike face of the season (which was obscured and darkened about the time they should go to church) declared that the mirth and ioy should not long continue in the house of the counte, according to the common saying: He that loketh not before he leapeth, may chaunce to stumble before he sleepeth. For the lord of Celant being retird home to his valeys of the Sauoy mountains, began to loke about his businesse, and perceiued that his wife surpassed al others in light behauiour and vnbrideled desires, whereuppon hee resolued to take order and stop hir passage before she had won the field, and that frankly she should goe seke hir ventures where shee list, if she would not be ruled by his aduise. The foolish Countesse seeing that hir husband well espied hir fond and foolysh behauior, and that wisely he went about to remedy the same, was no whit astonied, or regarded his aduise, but rather by forging complaints did cast him in the teeth sometymes with hir riches that she brought him, sometime with those whom she had refused for his sake, and with whom farre of she liued lyke a sauage creature amid the mountaine deserts and baren dales of Sauoy, and tolde him that by no meanes she minded to be closed and shut vp like a tamelesse beast. The Counte which was wyse, and would not breake the Ele vppon his knee, prouidently admonished hir in what wise a Ladye ought to esteeme hir honor, and how the lightest faults of Noble sorts appeare mortal sinnes before the world: and that it was not sufficient for a Gentlewoman to haue hir body chast, if hir speach were not according, and the minde correspondent to that outward semblance, and the conseruation agreable to the secret conceiptes of Mynd: “And I shall be ful sory swete Wife” (sayd the Counte) “to giue you cause of discontent: for wher you shalbe vexed and molested, I shall receiue no ioy or pleasure, you being [such one as ought to be the second my self, determining] by God’s grace to keepe my promise, and vse you like a wyfe, if so be you regard me with duety semblable: for reason will not that the head obey the members, if they shew not themselues to be sutch as depend vpon the health and life of it. The husband being the Wyue’s chiefe, ought to be obeyd in that which reason forbiddeth: and shee referring hir selfe to the pleasure of hir head, forceth him to whom she is adioyned, to do and assay all trauayle and payne for hir sake. Of one thinge I must needes accuse you, which is, that for trifles you frame complaynt: for the mynde occupied in folly, lusteth for nothinge more than vayne things, and those that be of little profite, specially where the pleasure of the Bodye is onely considered: where if it follow reason, it dissembleth his griefes with wordes of wysedome, and in knowing mutch, fayneth notwithstanding a subtile and honest ignoraunce: but I may bee mutch deceyued herein, by thinking that a Woman fraught with fickle Opinions may recline her eares to what so euer thing, except to that whych deliteth hir mynde, and pleaseth the desires framed wyth in hir foolyshe fantasie. Let not thys speach be straunge vnto you, for your woordes vttered without discretion, make me vse thys language: finally (good madame) you shall shew your selfe a Wyse and louing wyfe, if by takinge heede to my requests, you faythfully follow the advise thereof.” The Countesse whych was so fine and malicious as the Earle was good and wyse, dissembling her griefe, and coueringe the venome hidden in hir mynde, began so well to play the hypocrite before hir husbande, and to counterfayte the simple Dame, as albeit he was right politike, yet he was within hir Snare intrapt, who flattered him wyth so fayre Wordes, as she won him to goe to Casal, to visite the lands of hir Inheritaunce. We see whereunto the intent of this false Woman tended, and what checkmate she ment to geue both to hir husband, and hir honour: whereby we know that when a woman is disposed to giue hir selfe to wickednesse, hir mynde is voyd of no malyce or inuention to sort to ende any daunger or perill offered vnto hir. The factes of one Medea (if credite may be gieuen to Poets) and of Phædra, the Woman of Theseus, wel declare with what beastly zeale they began and finished their attempts: the eagles flight is not so high, as the Foolyshe desires, and Conceiptes of a Woman that trusteth in hir owne opinion, and treadeth out of the tract of duety, and way of Wysedome. Pardon me, good Ladies, if I speake so largely, and yet think not that I mean to display any other but sutch, as forget the degree wherin their Auncestours haue placed them, and whych digresse from the true path of those that haue immortalized the memory of themselues, of their husbands, and of the houses also whereof they came. I am very lothe to take vppon mee the office of a slaunderer, and no lesse do mean to flatter those, whom I see to their great shame, offende openly in the sight of the worlde: but why should I dyssemble that which I know your selues would not conceyle, yf in conscyence yee were requyred? It were extreame follye to decke and clothe vice wyth the holy garment of Vertue, and to call that Curtesie and Ciuylity, whych is manyfest whoredom and Trechery: let vs terme ech thyng by his due Name, and not deface that whych of it selfe is faire and pure: let vs not also staine the renoume of those, whom their own Vertue do recommende. This gentle Countesse beeing at Casal, making mutch of hir husbande, and kissing him with the kisse of treason, and of him being vnfainedly beloued and cherished, not able to forget his sermons, and mutch lesse hir own filthy lyfe, seeyng that with hir Counte it was impossyble for hir to liue and glut her lecherous lust, determined to runne away and seeke hir aduenture: for the brynging to passe wherof she had already taken order for money, the interest wherof growing to hir daily profite at Millan: and hauynge leuied a good summe of Ducates in hande, vntyll hir other rents were ready, she fled away in the night in companye of certayne of hir men which were priuie to her doeings. Hir retire was to Pauie, a City subiecte to the state and Duchy of Millan, where she hired a pryncely pallace, and apparelled the same according to hir estate and Trayne of hir husband, and as her owne reuenue was able to beare. I leaue for you to thinke what buzzings entred the Counte’s head, by the sodayne flight of his wife, who would haue sent and gone him selfe after to seke hir out, and bryng hir home againe, had he not well considered and wayed his owne profite and aduantage, who knowing that hir absence would rid out of his head a fardell of suspitions which he before conceiued, was in the ende resolued to lette hir alone, and suffer hir remaine in what place so euer she was retired, and whence hee neuer minded to cal hir home agayne. “I were a very foole,” (said he) “to keepe in my House so pernicious and fearfull an enimy, as that arrant whore is, who one day before I beware will cause some of hir ruffians to cut my throte, besides the Vyolatyon of hir holye Maryage Bed: God defende that sutch a Strumpet by hir presence should any longer profane the house of the Lord of Celant, who is well rewarded and punished for the exessiue loue whych he bare hir: let hir goe whether shee list, and lyue a God’s name at hir ease, I do content my self in knowing what Women be able to do, wythout further attempt of fortune or other proofe of hir wycked Lyfe.” He added further, that the honor of so Noble a personage as he was, depended not upon a woman’s mischief: and assure your selfe the whole race of woman kind was not spared by the Counte, against whom he then inueyed more through rage than reason, he considered not the honest sort of women, which deface the vyllany of those that giue themselues ouer to theyr own lusts, wythout regarde of modesty and shame, which oughte to be Famylyar, as it were by a certain Naturall inclynatyon in all degrees of Women and Maydens. But come we again to Bianca Maria, holding now hir Courte and open house at Pauie, wher she got so holy a fame, as mistresse Lais of Corinth did, whose trumprie was neuer more common in Asia than that of this fayre dame, almost in euery corner of Italy, and whose conuersation was sutch as hir frank liberty and famyliar demeanor to ech wyghte, well witnessed hir horryble Lyfe. True it was that her reputatyon ther was very smal, and she hired not hir selfe, ne yet toke pains by setting hir body to sale, but for some resonable gayne and earnest pain: howbeit she (of whom somtimes the famous Greke orator would not buy repentaunce for so high a pryce) was more excessiue in Sale of hir Merchaundyse, but not more wanton: for she no sooner espyed a comely Gentleman that was youthly, and well made, but would presently shew him so good countenance, as he had ben a very foole, that knewe not what prouender this Colt did neigh: whose shamelesse Gesture Massalina the Romane princesse dyd neuer surmount, except it were in that shee visited and haunted common houses: and this dame vsed hir disports wythin hir owne, the other also receiued indyfferently Carters, Galleye slaues, and Porters: and thys halfe Greeke did hir pastyme wyth Noble Men that were braue and lustye: but in one thing shee well resembled hir, whych was, that Messalina was soner wearye with trauayle, than she satisfied with pleasure and the filthy vse of hir body, like vnto a sink that receyueth al filth, wythout disgorgyng any throwne into the same: this was the chaste lyfe which that good Lady led, after she had taken flight from hir husband. Marke now whether the Milanois that was hir first husbande, were a grosse headed person or a foole, and whither hee were not learned and skilful in the science of Phisiognomy, and time for him to make ready the rods to make hir know hir duety, therwith to correct hir wanton youth, and to cut of the lusty twigs and proud sciences that soked the moisture and hart of the stock and braunches. It chaunced whiles she liued at Pauie, in this good and honorable port, the Counte of Massino called Ardizzino Valperga came to the Emperour’s service, and therby made hys abode at Pauie with one of his brothers: the Counte being a goodly Gentleman young and gallant in apparel, giuen to many good quallities had but one onely fault, which was a mayme in one of his legges, by reason of a certain aduenture and blow receiued in the warres, although the same toke away no part of his comelinesse and fyne behauyor. The Counte I say, remaining certayne days at Pauie beheld the beauty and singularity of the Countesse of Celant, and stayed with sutch deuotion to view and gaze vpon hir, as manye times he romed vp and down the streate wherein she dwelt to find meanes to speak vnto hir. His first talke was but a Bon iour: and simple salutation, sutch as gentlemen commonly vse in company of Ladies, and at the firste brunte Valperga coulde settle none other iudgement vpon that Goddesse, but that she was a wise and honest dame, and yet sutch one as needed not the Emperor’s camp to force the place, which as he thought was not so well flanked and rampired but that a good man of Armes myght easily winne, and the breache so liuely and sautable, as any souldier might passe the same: he became so famyliar with the Lady, and talked with hir so secretly, as vpon a day being with hir alone, hee courted in this wise: “Were not I of all men moste blame worthy, and of greatest folly to be reproued, so long time to be acquainted with a Lady so faire and curteous as you be, and not to offre my seruice life and goodes to be disposed where you pleased? I speake not thys, Madame, for any euil and sinister iudgement that I conceyue of you, for that I prayse and esteeme you aboue any Gentlewoman that euer I knew til this day, but rather for that I am so wonderfully attached with your good graces, as wrong I should doe vnto your honor and my loyal seruice towards you, if I continued dumbe, and did conceyle that whych incessantly would consume my heart with infynyte numbre of ardent desyres, and wast myne intrailes for the extreame and burning loue I beare you. I do require you to put no credite in me, if I refuse what it shall please you to commaund me: wherfore Madame, I humbly besech you to accepte me for your owne, and to fauor me as sutch one, whych with all fidelity hopeth to passe hys time in your company.” The Countesse although she knew ful wel that the fire was not so liuely kindled in the stomacke of the Counte as hee wente aboute to make hir beleue, and that his wordes were to eloquent, and countenance to ioyfull for so earnest a louer as hee semed to be, at thys first incountry: yet for that he was a valiant Gentleman, yong, lusty, and strongly made, minded to retaine him, and for a tyme to staye hir stomacke by appeasying hir gluttonous appetite in matters of loue, with a morsell so dainty, as was thys Mynion and lustye young Lorde: and when the Courage of hym began to coole, another shoulde enter the listes. And therefore she aunswered hym in thys wise: “Although I (knowying the vse and manners of men, and with what Baits they Hoke for Ladies, if they take not heede, hauing proued their malice and little loue,) determined neuer to loue other than mine affection, ne yet to fauoure Man excepte it bee by shewyng some Familiar manner to heare theyr talke, and for pastime to hearken the braue requests of those which say they burne for loue, in the mids of some delyghtsome brooke. And albeit I think you no better than other bee, ne more fayhfully, more affectyonate, or otherwyse moued than the rest, yet I am contente for respecte of youre honoure, somewhat to beeleue you and to accepte you for myne owne, sith your dyscretyon is sutch (I truste) as so Noble a Gentleman as you bee, wyll hym selfe declare in those Affayres, and when I see the effecte of my hope succeede, I cannot be so vnkynde, but wyth all honesty shall assaye to satisfy that your loue.” The Countee seeing hir alone, and receyuing the Ladie’s language for his aduantage, and that hir countenance by alteration of hir minde did ad a certayne beauty to hir face, and perceyuing a desire in hir that he should not vse delay, or be to squeimish, she demaunding naught else but execucion, tooke the present offred time, forgetting all ceremonies, and reuerence, he embraced hir and kissed hir a Hundred Thousande tymes. And albeit shee made a certayne simple and prouoking resistance, yet the louer notinge them to be but preparatiues for the sport of loue, he strayed from the bounds of honesty, and threw her vppon a fielde Bed wythin the Chambre, where hee solaced hymselfe wyth hys long desired suite. And finding hir worthy to be beloued, and she him a curteous gentleman, consulted together for continuaunce of their amity, in sutch wise as the Lorde Ardizzino spake no more but by the mouth of Bianca Maria, and dyd nothynge but what she commaunded, being so bewrapped wyth the heauy Mantell of hir Beastly Loue, as hee still abode nyght and day in the house of his beloued: whereby the brute was noysed throughout the Citty, and the songes of their Loue more common in ech Citizen’s mouth, than Stanze or Sonnettes of Petrarch, Played and Fayned vpon the Gittrone, Lute, or Lyra, more fine and witty than those vnsauery Ballets that be tuned and chaunted in the mouthes of the common sort. Beholde an Earle well serued, and dressed by enioying so false a Woman, which had already falsified the fayth betrouthed to hir husband, who was more honest, milde, and vertuous than she deserued. Beholde also, yee Noble Gentlemen, the simplicity of this good Earle, how it was deceyued by a false and filthy strumpet, whose stincking lyfe and common vse of body woulde haue withdrawen ech simple creature from mixture of their owne wyth sutch a Carrion. A lesson to learne al youth to refrayne the Whoorishe lookes of lighte conditioned Dames, a number (the more to be pittied) shewinge foorth themselues to the Portsale of euery Cheapener, that list demaunde the pryce, the grozenes whereof before considered, were worthy to be defied and loathed. This Ladye seeinge her Louer nousled in hir lust, dandled him with a thousand trumperyes, and made hym holde the Mule, while other enioyed the secrete sporte which earst hee vsed hymself. This acquayntance was so dangerous to the Counte, as she hir selfe was shamelesse to the Counte of Celant: for the one bare the armes of Cornwall, and became a seconde Acteon, and the other wickedly led his lyfe, and lost the chiefest of that hee loked for by the seruice of great Princes, throughe the treason of an arrante common queane. Whiles this Loue contynued in al Pleasure and lyke contentation of either parts: fortune that was ready to mounte the stage, and shew in sight that her mobylytye was no more stable than a woman’s wyll: for vnder sutch habite and sexe Painters and Poets describe hir) made Ardizzino suspecte what desire she had of chaunge: and within a while after, sawe himselfe so farre misliked of his Lady, as though he had neuer bene acquainted. The cause of which recoile was, for that the Countesse was not contented with one kind of fare, whose Eyes were more greedy than hir stomake able to digest, and aboue al desired chaunge, not seking meanes to finde him that was worthy to be beloued and intertayned of so great a Lady, as she esteemed hir selfe to be, and as sutch of their owne opinion thinke themselues, who counterfaicte more grauitie and reputation than they doe, whome Nature and vertue for theyr maiesty and holynes of lyfe make Noble and praise worthy. That desire deceiued hir nothing at all, for a certaine time after that Ardizzino possessed the forte of this fayre Countesse, there came to Pauia, one Roberto Sanseuerino earle of Gaiazzo, a yong and valiaunte gentleman, whose Countreye lyeth on this side the Mountaines, and was verye famylyar with the Earle of Massino. This vnfaythful Alcina and cruel Medea had no soner cast hir Eye vppon Signor di Gaiazzo, but was pierced with loue in sutch wise, as if forthwith shee had not attayned hir desyres, she would haue run mad, bycause that Gentleman bare a certayne statelye representatyon in hys Face, and promysed sutch dexteritie in hys deedes, as sodaynly she thought him to be the man that was able to staunch hir filthy thurst. And therfore so gently as she could, gave ouer hir Ardizzino, with whom she vtterly refused to speake, and shunned hys company when she saw him, and by shutting the gates agaynst him: the Noble man was notable to forbeare from throwing forth some words of choler, wherby she tooke occasion both to expell him, and also to beare hym sutch displeasure, as then she conspired his death, as afterwards you shall perceyue. This greate hatred was the cause that she fell in loue as you haue harde wyth the Counte of Gaiazzo, who shewed vnto him all signe of Amitye, and seeing that hee made no greate sute vnto hir, she wrote vnto him in this manner.

The Letter of Bianca Marie, to the Counte of Gaiazzo.

Sir, I doubt not by knowing the state of my degree, but that ye blush to see the violence of my mynd, which passing the limites of modesty, that ought to guard sutch a Lady as I am, forceth me (vncertayn of the cause) to doe you vnderstand the gryef that doeth torment me, which is of sutch constraynt, as if of curtesie ye do not vouchsafe to come vnto me, you shall commyt two faults, the one leauing the thing worthy for you to loue and regard, and which deserueth not to be cast of, the other in causing the Death of hir, that for Loue of you, is bereft of rest: wherby loue hath uery little in me to sease vpon, either of heart or liberty. The ease of which gryef proceedeth from your only grace, which is able to vanquyshe hir, whose victorious hap hath conquered all other, and who attending your resolut aunswer, shal rest vnder the mercifull refuge of hope, whych deceiuing hir, shal se by that very meanes the wretched end of hir that is al your owne.

Bianca Maria Countesse of Celant.

The yong Lorde mutch maruelled at this message, were it for that already hee was in loue with hir, and that for loue of his friend Ardizzino, durst not be known therof, or for that he feared she wold be straught of wits, if she were despised, he determined to goe vnto hir, and yet stayed thinking it not to be the part of a faythfull companyon to deceiue his Friend: but in the end pleasure surmounting reason, and the beauty ioyned wyth the good grace of the Lady hauing blinded him, and bewitched his wits so wel as Ardizzino, he toke his way towards hir house, who waited for him wyth good deuotion, whither being arriued, he failed not to vse like spech that Valperga did, either of them (after certain reuerences and other fewe words) minding and desyringe one kinde of intertaynement. This practize dured certayn months, and the Countesse was so farre rapt with her new louer, as she only employed hir self to please him, and he shewed himself so affected as therby she thought to rule and gouerne him in all things: wherof she was afterwards deceiued as you shall vnderstand the maner. Ardizzino seing himself wholly abandoned the presence and loue of his Lady, knowing that she railed vpon him in al places where she came, departed Pauia halfe out of his wittes for Anger, and so strayed from comely ordyr by reason of his rage, as hee displayed the Countesse thre times more liuely in hir colours, than she could be paynted, and reproued hir wyth the termes of the vilest and moste common strumpet that euer ran at rouers, or shot at random. Bianca Maria vnderstode hereof, and was aduertised of the vile report that Ardizzino spread of hir, throughout Lombardie, which chaffed hir in sutch wyse as she fared like the Bedlem fury, ceasing night nor day to playne the vnkindnes and folly of hir reiected louer: somtimes saying, that she had iust cause so to do, then flattering hir selfe, alledged, that men were made of purpose to suffer sutch follyes as were wroughte by hir, and where they termed themselues to bee Women’s Seruauntes, they ought at theyr Mystresse Handes to endure what pleased them. In the end, not able any longer to restrayne hir choler, ne vanquish the appetite of reuenge, purposed at all aduenture to prouide for the death of her auncient Enimy, and that by meanes of him whom she had now tangled in her Nettes. See the vnshamefastnesse of this mastife bitche, and the rage of that Female Tiger, howe shee goeth about to arme one friend against an other, and was not content onely to abuse the Counte Gaiazzo, but deuised how to make him the manqueller. And as one night they were in the middest of their embracements, she began pitifully to weepe and sigh, in sutch wise as a man would haue thought (by the vexation of hir hearte) that the soule and body would haue parted. The younge Lorde louingly enquired the cause of hir heauinesse: and sayd vnto hir, that if any had done hir displeasure, hee would reuenge hir cause to hir contentment. She hearing him say so, (then in studie vpon the deuice of hir Enimie’s death) spake to the Counte in this manner: “You know sir, that the thing whych moste tormenteth the Gentle heart and minde that can abide no wronge, is defamation of honoure and infamous reporte. Thus mutch I say for that the Lord of Massino, (who to say the trouth, was fauoured of me in like sorte as you be now) hath not been ashamed to publishe open slaunders agaynst me, as thoughe I were the arrantest Whore that euer had giuen her self ouer to the Galley slaues alongs the shore of Scicile. If he had vaunted the fauour which I haue done him but to certayne of his privat Friendes, I had incurred no slaunder at all, mutch lesse any lyttle suspition, but hearyng the common reportes, the wrongfull Woordes and wycked brutes that he hath raysed on me: I beseech you syr, to do me reason that he may feele his offence and the smart for his committed fault against hir that is al yours.” The Lord Sanseuerino hearyng this discourse, promised hir to do hys best, and to teache Valperga to talke more soberly of hir, whom he was not worthy for to serue, but in thought. Notwithstandyng, he sayde more than he ment to do, for he knew Ardizzino to be so honest, sage and curteous a personage, as hee would neyther doe nor say any thing without good cause, and that Ardizzino had iuster quarell agaynst him, by takyng that from hym whych hee loued (althoughe it was after his discontinuance from that place, and vpon the onely request of hir.) Thus he concluded in mind styl to remayne the fryend of Ardizzino, and yet to spend his time with the Countesse, which he did the space of certayn months without quarelling with Valperga, that was retired to Pauie, with whom he was conuersant, and liued familiarly, and most commonly vsed one table and bed togither. Bianca Maria seeing that the Lord of Gaiazzo cared not mutch for hir, but onely for his pleasure, determined to vse like practise against him, as she did to hir former louer, and to banish him from hir House. So that when he came to see hir, either she was sicke, or hir affaires were sutch, as she could not kepe hym company: or else hir gate was shut vpon him. In the end (playing double or quit) she prayed the sayd Lord to shewe hir sutch pleasure and friendship, as to come no more vnto hir, bicause she was in termes to goe home to hir husband the Counte of Celant, who had sent for hir, and feared least his seruaunts shoulde finde her house ful of suters, alleaging that she had liued long inoughe in that most sinful life, the lighest faultes whereof were to heynous for dames of hir port and calling, concluding that so long as she lyued she would beare him good affection for the Honest Company and conuersation had betwene them, and for hys curtesie towards hir. The yong Earle, were it that he gaue creadit vnto hir tale or not, made as though he did beleue the same, and without longer dyscourse, forbare approche vnto hir house, and droue out of his heade al the Amorous affection which he caried to the Piedmont Circes. And to the ende he might haue no cause to thinke vpon hir, or that his presence should make hym slaue againe to hir that first pursued him, he retired in good time to Millan: by which retire hee avoided that mishap, wherwith at length this Pestilent women would haue cut him ouer the shinnes, euen when his mind was least theron. Such was the malice and mischief of hir heart, who ceasing to play the whore, applied hir whole pastime to murder. Gaiazzo being departed from Pauie, thys Venus once agayne assayed the embracements of hir Ardizzino, and knew not wel how to recouer hym agayne, bycause she feared that the other had discouered the Enterpryse of his Murder. But what dare not shee attempte whose mynde is slaue to sinne? The first assayes be harde, and the minde doubtfull, and conscience gnaweth vpon the worme of repentaunce, but the same once nousled in vice, and rooted in the heart, it is more pleasaunte, and gladsome for the wicked to execute, than vertue is familiar to those that follow hir: So that shame separate from before the eyes of youth, riper age noursed in impudency, their sight is so daseled, as they can see nothing that eyther shame or feare can make them blush, which was the cause that this Lady, continuinge still in hir mischiefe, so mutch practised the freendes of hym whom she desired to kill, and made sutch fit excuse by hir Ambassades, as hee was content to speake to hir, and to here hir Iustifications, whych were easy inough to doe, the Iudge being not very guilty. Shee promised and swore that if the fault were proued not to be in him, neuer man should see Bianca Maria, (so long as she lyued) to be other than a friend and slaue to the Lord Ardizzino, wholly submitting hirselfe vnto his will and pleasure. See how peace was capitulated betweene the two reconciled Louers, and what were the articles of the same, the Lorde of Massino entringe Possession agayne of the fort that was reuolted, and was long tyme in the power of another. But when he was seazed agayne, the Lady saw full wel, that hir recouered friend was not so hard to please, as the other was, and that wyth him she liued at greater liberty. Continuing then their amorous Daunce, and Ardizzino hauing no more care but to reioyce himselfe, nor hys Lady, but to cherishe and make mutch of hir friend, beholde eftsoones the desire of Bloud and wyll of murder, newly reuiued in that new Megera, who incited (I knowe not with what rage,) fansied to haue him slayne, whych refused to kill hym, whom at this present shee loued as hirselfe. And he that had inquired the cause thereof, I thyncke none other reason coulde he rendred, but that a braynelesse heade and reasonlesse minde, doe thincke most notable murders, and myschiefe be easie to be brought to passe, who so strangely proceeded in disordred Lustes, which in fine caused their myserable shame, and ruine, wyth the death of hirselfe and hym, whom she had stirred to the fact, boldeninge him by persuasion, to make him beleue Vyce to bee Vertue, and Gloriously commended hym in hys follies, whych you shall heare by readinge at lengthe the discourse of thys Hystory. Bianca Maria, seeing hirselfe in full possession of hir Ardizzino, purposed to make hym chiefe executioner of the murder, by hir intended, vpon Gaiazzo, for the doing whereof one night holdinge hym betwene hir armes, after shee had long time dalyed with hym, like a cunninge Maistresse of hir Art, in the ende weauinge and trayning hir treason at large, she sayd thus vnto him: “Syr, of long time I haue bene desirous to require a good turne at your hands, but fearing to trouble you, and thereupon to be denied, I thought not to be importunate: and albeit the matter toucheth you, yet did I rather holde my peace then to here refusall of a thinge, which your selfe ought to profer, the same concerning you.” “Madame,” sayd hir Louer, “you know the matter neede to be haynous and of great importaunce, that I should deny you, specially if it concerne the bleamish of your honor. But you say the same doth touch mee somewhat neerely, and therefore if ability be in me, spare not to vtter it, and I wyll assay your satisfaction to the vttermost of my power.” “Syr,” sayd she, “is the Counte of Gaiazzo one of your very frends?” “I thinke” (aunswered Valperga) “that he is one of the surest freends I haue, and in respect of whose frendship, I will hazarde my selfe for him no lesse than for my Brother, being certaine that if I have neede of him, he will not fayle to do the like for me. But wherefore doe you aske me that question?” “I will then tel you,” sayd the Traytresse (kissing him so sweetely as euer he felt the like of any Woman,) “for somutch as you be so deceyued of your opinion in him who is wicked in dissembling of that, which maliciously lieth hidden in hys heart. And briefly to say the effect: assure your selfe hee is the greatest and most mortall Ennimy that you haue in the Worlde. And to the intent that you do not think this to be some forged Tale, of light inuention, or that I heard the report of some not worthy of credit, I will say nothinge but that whych hymselfe did tell me, when in your absence he vsed my company. He sware vnto me, without declaration of the cause, that hee coulde neuer bee mery, nor hys mynde in rest, before hee saw you cut in pieces, and shortly woulde giue you sutch assaulte, as al the dayes of our lyfe, you shoulde neuer haue lust or mynde on Ladies loue. And albeit then, I was in choler agaynst you, and that you had ministred some cause, and reason of hatred, yet our first loue had taken sutch force in my hart, and I besought him not to do that enterprise so long as I was in place where you did remayne, because I cannot abide (wythout present death) to see your finger ake, mutch lesse your lyfe berieued from you. Vnto which my sute his Eare was deafe, swearing still and protesting that either he would be slayne himselfe, or else dispatch the Countee Ardizzino. I durst not” (quod she) “ne wel could as then aduertise you thereof, for the smal accesse that my seruants had vnto your lodging, but now I pray you to take good heede by preuenting his diuelishe purpose: For better it were for you to take his lyfe, than he to kill and murder you, or otherwyse work you mischiefe, and you shal be esteemed the wiser man, and he pronounced a traytor to seeke the death of him, that bare him sutch good will. Doe then accordinge to myne aduice, and before he begin, doe you kill hym, by the which you shall saue your selfe, and doe the part of a valyaunt knight, bisides, the satisfying of the mynde of hir that aboue al pleasures of the World doth chiefly desire the same. Experience now will let me proue whether you loue me or not, and what you will do for hir that loueth you so dearly, who openeth this conspired murder, aswell for your safety, as for lengthening of the lyfe of hir, which wythout yours cannot endure: graunt this my sute (O friend most deare) and suffer me not in sorrowfull plight to be despoyled of thy presence: and wilt thou suffer that I shoulde dy, and that yonder Proude, Trayterous, and vnfaythfull varlet should liue to laugh mee to scorne?” If the Lady had not added those last words to hir foolish sermon, perchaunce she might haue prouoked Ardizzino to folow hir Counsell: but seeing hir so obstinately continue hir request, and to prosecute the same with sutch violence, concluding vpon hir owne quarrel, his conscience throbbed, and his minde measured the malice of that Woman, with the honesty of him, against whom that tale was told, who knew his frend to be so sound and trusty, as willingly he would not do the thinge that should offend him, and therefore would geue no credit to false report without good, and apparant proofe: for which cause hee was persuaded that it was a malicious tale deuised by some that went about to sowe debate betweene those two friendly earles. Notwithstanding, vpon further pause, and not to make hir chafe, or force hir into rage, he promised the execution of hir cursed wil, thanking hir for hir aduertisement, and that he would prouide for hys defence and surety: and to the intent that shee might thyncke he went about to performe his promise, he tooke his leaue of hir to goe to Millan, which hee did, not to follow the abhominable will of that rauenous Mastife, but to reueale the matter to his companion, and direct the same as it deserued. Being arriued at Millan, the chiefe Citty of Lombardy, he imparted to Gaiazzo from poynct to poynct the discourse of the Countesse, and the peticion shee made vnto hym, vppon the conclusion of hir Tale: “O God” (sayd the lord Sanseuerino,) “who can beware the traps of Whoores, if by thy grace our hands be not forbidden, and our hearts and thoughts guided by thy goodnes? Is it possible that the Earth can breede a Monster more pernicious than this most Pestilent Beast? Thys is truely the grift of hir Father’s vsury, and the stench of all hir Predecessours villanyes: it is impossible of a Kyte or Cormerant to make a good Sparhauk, or Tercle gentle. This carion no doubt is the Daughter of a Vilayne, sprong of the basest race amongs the common people, whose mother was more fine than chaste, more subtile than sober: this minion hath forsaken hir husband, to erect bloudy Skaffoldes of murder amid the Nobles of Italy: and were it not for the dishonour which I should get to soyle my hands in the bloude of a Beast so corrupt, I woulde teare hir with my Teeth in a hundreth Thousand peeces: how many times hath she entreated mee before: in how many sundry sortes with ioyned handes hath she besought mee to kill the Lorde Ardizzino? Ah, my Companion, and right well beloued Freende, can you thincke mee to bee so Trayterous, and Cowarde a Knaue, as that I dare not tell to them to whome I beare displeasure what mallice lurketh in my heart?” “By the fayth of a Gentleman,” (sayd Ardizzino,) “I would be sory my mynd should seaze on sutch Folly, but I am come to reueale thys vnto you, that the Song might sound no more wythin myne eares. It behoueth vs then, sith God hath kept vs hytherto, to avoyde the ayre of that infection, that our braynes be not putrified, and from henceforth to fly those Bloudsuckers, the Schollers of Venus: and truely great dishonour would redound to vs, to kill one an other for the onely pastime and sottish fansie of that mynion: I haue repented me an hundred times when she first mooued mee of the deuice to kill you, that I did not geeue a hundred Poignaladoes wyth my Dagger, to stop the way by that example for all other to attempt sutch Butcheries: for I am well assured that the mallyce whych shee beareth you, proceedeth but of the delay you made for satisfaction of hir murderous desire, whereof I thancke you, and yelde my selfe in all causes to imploy my lyfe, and that I haue, to do you seruice.” “Leaue we of that talk” (sayd Gaiazzo) “for I haue done but my duety, and that which ech Noble heart ought to euery wight, doing wrong to none, but prone to help, and doe good to all: whych is the true marke and Badge of Nobility. Touching that malignant Strumpet, hir owne lyfe shall reuenge the wrongs which she hath gone about to venge on vs. In meane while let vs reioyce, and thincke the goods, and richesse shee hath gotten of vs, wil not cause hir Bagges mutch to Strout and Swel. To be short, she hath nothing whereby she may greatly laugh vs to scorne, except our good entertainment of hir night and day do prouoke hir: let other coyne the pence henceforth to fill her Coafers, for of vs (so farre as I see) she is deceyued.” Thus the two Lordes passed forth their tyme, and in all Companies where they came, they spent their Talke, and Communication of the disordered lyfe of the Countesse of Celant. The whole Citty also rang of the sleights and meanes she vsed to trappe the Noblemen, and of her pollicies to be rid of them when her thirst was stanched, or diet grew lothesome for want of chaunge. And that whych greued hir most, an Italyan Epigram blased forth hir prowes to hir great dishonour, whereof the Copy I cannot get, and some say that Ardizzino was the author: for it was composed, when he was dispossessed of pacience: and if shee coulde haue wreked hir will on the knights, I beleeue in hir rage she would haue made an Anathomy of their Bones. Of whych hir two enimies, Ardizzino was the greatest, agaynst whom hir displeasure was the more, for that he was the first with whom she entred skirmish. Nothing was more frequent in Pauy, than villanous Iests, and Playes vppon the filthy Behauiour of the Countesse, which made hir ashamed to goe out of hir Gates. In the ende shee purposed to chaunge the Ayre and place, hoping by that alteration to stay the Infamous Brute, and Slaunder: so she came to Millan, where first she was inuested wyth state of honour, in honest Fame of Chaste lyfe so longe as Vicount Hermes liued, and then was not pursued to staunch the thirst of those that did ordinarily draw at hir Fountayne. About the tyme that she departed from Pauy, Dom Pietro de Cardone a Scicilian, the Bastard Brother of the Counte of Colisano, whose Lieuetenaunt he was, and their father slayn at the Battayle of Bicocca wyth a band of horsemen arriued at Milan. This Scicilian was about the age of one or two and twenty yeres, somwhat black of face, but well made and sterne of countenance: whiles the Countesse soiorned at Milan, this gentleman fell in loue with hir, and searched all meanes he coulde to make hir hys friende, and to enioy hir: who perceyuing him to be young, and a Nouice in Skirmishes of Loue, lyke a Pigeon of the first coate, determined to lure him, and to serue hir turne in that which shee purposed to doe on those agaynst whom shee was outragiously offended. Now the better to entice thys younge Lorde vnto her Fantasye, and to catch hym wyth hir bayte, when hee passed through the Streate, and saluted hir, and when he Syghed after the manner of the Spaniard, rominge before hys Lady, shee shewed him an indifferent mery Countenaunce, and sodaynely restrayned that Cheere, to make hym taste the pleasure mingled with the soure of one desire, which he could not tel how to accomplish: and the more faynt was his hardines for that he was neuer practised in the daliance and seruice of Lady of noble house or calling, who thincking that the Gentlewoman was one of the Principall of Millan, he was straungely vexed, and tormented for hir loue, in sutch wyse as in the night he could not rest for fantasing, and thynking vpon hir, and in the Day passed up and downe before the Doore of her lodging. One eueninge for his disport hee went forth to walke in company of another Gentleman, which well could play vppon the Lute, and desired him to gieue awake vnto hys Lady, that then for iealousie was harkeninge at hir window, both of the sounde of the Instrument, and the Ditty of hir amorous Knight, where the Gentleman song thys Sonet.

Then he began to sigh so terribly, as if already she had geuen sentence, and difinitiue Iudgement of his farewell, and disputed with his fellow in sutch sort, and wyth Opinion so assured of hys contempt, as if he had bene in loue with some one of the Infants of Spayne: for which cause he began very pitifully to sing these verses.

Thys gentle order of loue greatly pleased the Lady, and therefore opened hir gate to let the Scicilian lorde, who seeing hymselfe fauoured (beyond all hope) of his Lady, and cheerefully intertayned, and welcommed with great curtesie stoode so still astonnied, as if hee had beene fallen from the Cloudes: but she which coulde teache hym good manner, to make hym the minister of hir myschiefe, takynge hym by the hande, made hym sit downe vpon a greene Bed besydes hir, and seeing that he was not yet imboldened, for all hee was a Souldiour, shee shewed hir selfe more hardy than hee, and firste assayled hym wyth talke, sayinge: “Syr, I praye you thinke it not straunge, if at thys houre of the nyght, I am bolde to cause you enter my house, beinge of no great acquayntaunce wyth you, but by hearinge your curteous salutations: and wee of thys Countrey bee somewhat more at liberty than they in those partes from whence you come: besides it lyketh mee well (as I am able) to honour straunge gentlemen, and to retayne theym with right good willinge heart, sith it pleaseth theym to honour mee wyth repayre vnto my house: so shall you be welcome styll when you please to knocke at my Gate, whych at all tymes I wyll to be opened for you, wyth no lesse good wyll than if yee were my naturall Brother, the same wyth all the thinges therein, it may please you to dispose as if they were your own.” Dom Pietro of Cardonne well satisfied, and contented wyth thys vnlooked for kyndnesse, thanked her very Curteously, humbly praying hir besides to dayne it in good parte, if he were so bolde to make requeste of loue, and that it was the onelye thynge which hee aboue all other desyred moste, so that if shee would receiue him for hir friende and Seruaunt, shee shoulde vnderstande him to be a Gentleman, which lightly woulde promise nothing excepte the accomplishment did followe: she that sawe a greater onset than she loked for, answered hym smilyng with a very good grace: “Sir, I haue knowne very many that haue vouched slipperie promyses, and proffered lordly seruices vnto Ladies, the effect wherof if I myght once see, I would not thinke that they coulde vanishe so soone, and consume like smoake.” “Madame” (sayde the Scicilian) “yf I fayle in any thing which you commaunde mee, I praye to God neuer to receiue any fauor or grace of those Curtesies whych I craue.” “If then” (quod shee) “you wyl promise to employ your selfe aboute a businesse that I haue to do when I make request, I wyll also to accept you for a friende, and graunt sutch secrecie as a faithful louer can desyre of his Lady.” Dom Pietro which would have offred hym selfe in Sacrifice for hir, not knowyng hir demaunde, tooke an othe, and promysed hir so lyghtly as madly afterwardes he did put the same in proofe. Beholde the preparatiues of the obsequies of their first loue, and the guages of a bloudie Bed: the one was prodigall of hir honoure, the other the tormente of his reputation, and neglected the duety and honor of his state, which the house wherof he came, commaunded hym to kepe. Thus all the nyght he remained with Bianca Maria, who made him so wel to like hir good entertaynment and imbracementes, as he neuer was out of her Company. And the warie Circes fayned her self so fare in loue wyth hym, and vsed so many toyes and gametricks of her filthy science, as he not onelye esteemed hym selfe the happiest Gentleman of Scicilia, but the most fortunate wight of all the Worlde, and by bibbing of hir Wyne was so straungely charmed with the Pleasures of his fayre Mystresse, as for hir sake he would haue taken vpon him the whole ouerthrowe of Milan, so well as Blose of Cumes to sette the Cittye of Rome on fire, if Tyberius Gracchus the sedicious, woulde haue giuen it him in charge. Sutch is the manner of wilde and foolish youth, whych suffreth it selfe to be caried beyonde the boundes of reason. The same in time past did ouerthrow many Realmes, and caused the chaunge of diuers Monarchies: and truely vnseemely it is for a man to be subdued to the will of a common strumpet. And as it is vncomly to submit him selfe to sutch one, so not requisite to an honest and vertuous Dame, his maried Wyfe. Which vnmanly deedes, be occasions that diuers Foolishe Women commit sutch filthy factes, with their inspekable trumperies begiling the simple man, and perchance through to mutch losing the Bridle raynes to the lawfull Wyfe, the poore man is strangely deceyued by some adulterous varlet, whych at the Wyue’s commaundment, when she seeth oportunity, wil not shrinke to hazarde the honour of them both, in sutch wise as they serue for an example vppon a common Scaffold to a whole generation and Posterity. I wyll not seeke farre of for examples, being satisfied with the folly of the Bastard Cardonne, to please the cruelty and malice of that infernall fury the Countesse, who hauinge lulled, flattered, and bewitched with hir louetricks (and peraduenture with some charmed drinke) her new Pigeon, seeinge it time to solicite his promise, to be reuenged of those, whych thought no more of hir conspiracies and trayterous deuises, and also when the time was come for punishinge of hir whoredome, and chastising of the breach of fayth made to hir husbande, and of hir intended murders, and some of them put in execution, she I say, desirous to see the ende of that, which in thought she had contryued, vppon a day tooke Dom Pietro aside, and secretly began this Oration: “I take God to witnes (sir) that the request which I pretend presently to make, proceedeth of desire rather that the Worlde may know how iustly I seeke meanes to mayntayne myne honour, than for desire of reuenge, knowinge very well, that there is nothing so precious, and deere vnto a woman, as the preseruation of that inestimable Iewell, specially in a Lady of that honourable degre whych I mayntayne amonge the best. And to the intent I seeme not tedious with prolixity of words, or vse other than direct circumstances before him that hath offred iust reuenge for the wrongs I haue receyued: knowe you sir, that for a certain tyme I continued at Pauie, kepynge a house and Trayne so honest, as the best Lords were contented wyth myne ordinarye. It chaunced that two honest Gentlemen of Noble House haunted my Palace in lyke sort, and with the same intertainment whych as you see, I doe receiue ech Gentleman, who beyng well intreated and honoured of me, in the ende forgat themselues so farre, as without respect of my state and callinge, wythout regard of the race and family wherof they come, haue attempted the slaunder of my good name, and vtter subuersion of my renoume: and sufficient it was not for them thus to deale with mee poore Gentlewoman, without desert (excepte it were for admyttyng them to haue accesse vnto my house) but also to continue their Blasphemies, to myne extreame reproach and shame: and howe true the same is, they that know me can well declare, by reason whereof, the vulgar people prone and ready to wycked reportes, haue conceiued sutch opynion of me, as for that they see me braue and fine in Apparell, and specyally throughe the slaunderous speache of those gallantes, do deeme and repute me for a common Whoore, wherof I craue none other wytnesse than your selfe and my conscience. And I sweare vnto you, that sith I came to Milan, it is you alone that hath vanquished, and made the Triumphe of my Chastytye: and yf you were absent from this Citye, I assure you on my fayth that I would not tarry heere XXIIII. houres. These infamous ruffians I say, these persecuters and termagantes of my good name, haue chased mee out of all good Cityes, and made me to be abhorred of ech honest company, that weary I am of my lyfe, and lothe to lyue any longer except spedye redresse bee had for reuengement of thys wronge: wherefore except I finde some Noble Champion and Valyaunte Personage to requyte these Vyllains for their spitefull Speach blased on me in euerye Corner of Towne and Countreye, and to paye them theyr rewarde and hire that I may lyue at Lybertye and quyet, Sorrowe wyll eyther consume mee or myne owne handes shall hasten spedye Death.” And in speakyng those Woordes, shee beganne to weepe with sutch abundance of teares streaming downe hir Cheekes and Necke of Alabaster hewe, as the Scicilian whych almost had none other God but the Countesse, sayd vnto hir: “And what is he, that dare molest and slaunder hir that hath in hir puissaunce so many Souldiers and men of Warre? I make a vow to God, that if I know the names of those two arrant villaynes, the which haue so defamed my Mystresse name, the whole worlde shall not saue their liues, whose carrion Bodies I will hew into so many gobbets, as they haue members vpon the same: wherefore Madame” (sayd he, imbracing her) “I pray you to grieue your selfe no more, commit your wronges to me, only tell me the names of those Gallaunts, and afterwards you shall vnderstande what difference I make of woorde and deede, and if I doe not trimme and dresse theym so finely, as hereafter they shall haue no neede of Barber, neuer trust me any more.” Shee, as reuiued from death to lyfe, kyssed and embraced him a thousand tymes, thankinge hym for his good will, and offering him all that she had. In the ende she tolde him that hir enimies were the counties of Massino and Gaiazzo, which but by theyr deaths alone were not able to amend and repayre hir honour. “Care not you” (sayde hee) “for before that the Sunne shall spreade his Beames twice 24 houres vpon the earth, you shall heare newes, and know what I am able to do for the chastisement of those deuils.” As he promised, hee fayled not to do: for wythin a whyle after as Ardizzino was goinge to supper into the Citty, he was espyed by hym, that had in company attendaunt vppon hym fyue and twenty men of Armes, which waited for Ardizzino, in a Lane on the left hand of the Streate called Merauegli, leading towards the church of Sainct Iames, through which the Countee must needes passe. Who as he was going very pleasantly disposed with his brother, and 5 or 6 of his men, was immediately assayled on euery side, and not knowinge what it ment, would haue fled, but the Wayes, and Passages were stopped rounde aboute: to defende himselfe it auayled not hauing but their single Swords, and amid the troupe of sutch a bande that were throughly armed, which in a moment had murdred, and cut in peeces all that company. And although it was late, yet the Countie Ardizzino many times named Dom Pietro, which caused hym to be taken, and imprisoned by the Duke of Bourbon, that was fled out of Fraunce, and then was Lieutenaunt for the Emperour Charles the fifth in Milan. Whosoeuer was astonned and amazed with that Imprisonment, it is to bee thoughte that the Scicilan was not greatly at his ease and quiet, who needed no torments to force him confesse the fact, for of his owne accorde voluntarily he dysclosed the same, but he sayde he was prouoked thervnto by the persuasion of Bianca Maria telling the whole discourse as you haue heard before. She had already intelligence of this chaunce, and might haue fled and saued hir selfe before the fact (by the confession of Dom Pietro) had ben discouered, and attended in some secrete place till that stormie time had bene calmed and appeased. But God which is a rightfull iudge woulde not suffer hir wickednesse stretch any further, sith she hauing found out sutch a nimble and wilful executioner, the Countee of Gaiazzo could not long haue remained aliue, who then in good time and happy houre was absent out of the City. So soone as Dom Pietro had accused the Countesse, the Lord of Bourbon sente her to pryson, and being examined, confessed the whole matter, trustinge that hir infinite numbre of Crownes woulde haue corrupted the Duke, or those that represented his person. But hir Crownes and Lyfe passed all one way. For the day after hir imprisonment shee was condempned to lose hir heade: and in the meane time Dom Pietro was saued, by the diligence and suite of the Captaynes, and was employed in other Warres, to whom the Duke gaue him, for that he was lothe to lose so notable a Souldiour, the very right hand of his Brother the Countee of Colisano. The Countesse hauing sentence pronounced vppon hir, but trusting for pardon, would not prepare hir selfe to dy, ne yet by any meanes craue forgiuenes of hir faults at the hands of God, vntil she was conueyed out of the Castell, and ledde to the common place of execution, where a Scaffolde was prepared for hir to play the last Acte of thys Tragedy. Then the miserable Lady began to know hirselfe, and to confesse hir faults before the people, deuoutly praying God, not to haue regard to hir demerites, ne yet to determine his wrath agaynst hir, or enter with hir in iudgement, for so mutch as if the same were decreed accordinge to hir iniquity, no saluation was to be looked for. She besought the people to pray for hir, and the countee of Gaiazzo that was absent, to pardon hir malice, and treason which she had deuised agaynst him. Thus miserably and repentantly dyed the Countesse, which in hir lyfe refused not to imbrace and follow any wickednes, no mischiefe shee accompted euill done, so the same were imployed for hir pleasure and pastime. A goodly example truely for the youth of our present time, sith the most part indifferently do launch into the gulfe of disordred lyfe, suffring themselues to bee plunged in the puddles of their owne vayne conceiptes, without consideration of the mischieues that may ensue. If the Lord of Cardonne had not bene beloued of his generall, into what calamity had he fallen for yeldinge himselfe a pray to that bloudy Woman who had more regarde to the light, and wilfull fansie of hir, whom he serued like a slaue, than to his duety and estimation? And truely all sutch be voyde of their right wits, which thincke themselues beloued of a Whoore. For their amity endureth no longer than they sucke from their pursses and bodies any profit or pleasure. And because almost euery day semblable examples be seene, I will leaue of this discourse, to take me to a matter, not farre more pleasaunt than this, although founded vpon better grounde, and stablished upon loue, the first onset of lawfull mariage, the successe whereof chaunced to murderous ende, and yet the same intended by neyther of the beloued: as you shall be iudge by the continuance of reading of the history ensuing. Beare with me good Ladyes (for of you alone I craue this pardon) for introducing the Whoorish lyfe of the Countesse, and hir bloudy enterprise: bicause I know right wel, that recitall of murders, and bloudy facts wearieth the mindes of those that loue to lyue at rest, and wish for fayre weather after the troublesome stormes of raging Seas, no lesse than the Pilote and wise Mariner, hauing long time endured and cut the perillous straicts of the Ocean Sea. And albeit the corruption of our nature be so great, as follies delighte vs more than ernest matters fraught wyth reason and wisedome, yet I thinke not that our mindes be so peruerted and diuided from trouth, but sometimes wee care and seeke to speake more grauely than the countrey Hynde, or more soberly than they, whose lyues do beare the marke of infamy, and be to euery wight notorious for the onely name of their vocation. Suffiseth vs that an Hystory, be it neuer so full of sporte and pleasure, do bring with it instruction of our lyfe, and amendement of our maners. And wee ought not to be so curious or scrupulous, to reiect merry and pleasant deuises that be voide of harmeful talke, or wythout sutch glee as may hynder the education of Youth procliue, and ready to choose that is corrupt, and naught. The very bookes of holy scriptures doe describe vnto vs persons that bee vicious, and so detestable as nothing more, whose factes vnto the simple may seeme vnseemely, vpon the least recitall of the same. And shall wee therefore reiect the readinge, and eschue those holy bookes? God forbid, but with diligence to beware, that we do not resemble those that be remembred there for example, forsomutch as speedely after sinne, ensueth grieuous, and as sodayne punishment. For which cause I haue selected these Historyes, of purpose to aduertise Youth, how they that follow the way of damnable iniquity, fayle not shortly after their great offences, and execution of their outragious vices, to feele the iust and mighty hand of God, who guerdoneth the good for their good works and deedes, and rewardeth the euil for their wickednes and mischiefe. Now turne we then to the Hystory of two, the rarest Louers that euer were, the performaunce, and finishinge whereof, had it bene so prosperous as the beginning, they had ioyed ioyfully the Fruicts of their intent, and two noble houses of one City reconciled to perpetuall frendship.

THE TWENTY-FIFTH NOUELL.

The goodly Hystory of the true, and constant Loue between Rhomeo and Ivlietta, the one of whom died of Poyson, and the other of sorrow, and heuinesse: wherein be comprysed many aduentures of Loue, and other deuises touchinge the same.

I am sure that they which measure the Greatnesse of Goddes worked accordinge to the capacity of their Rude, and simple vnderstandinge, wyll not lightly adhibite credite vnto thys History, so wel for the variety of straunge Accidents which be therein described, as for the nouelty of so rare, and perfect amity. But they that haue read Plinie, Valerius Maximus, Plutarche, and diuers other Writers, do finde, that in olde time a great number of Men and Women haue died, some of excessiue ioy, some of ouermutch sorrow, and some of other passions: and amongs the same, Loue is not the least, whych when it seazeth vppon any kynde and gentle subiect, and findeth no resistaunce to serue for a rampart to stay the violence of his course, by little and little vndermineth, melteth and consumeth the vertues of naturall powers in sutch wyse as the spyrite yealdinge to the burden, abandoneth the place of lyfe: which is verified by the pitifull, and infortunate death of two Louers that surrendered their last Breath in one Toumbe at Verona a Citty of Italy, wherein repose yet to thys day (with great maruell) the Bones, and remnauntes of their late louing bodies: an hystory no lesse wonderfull than true. If then perticular affection which of good right euery man ought to beare to the place where he was borne, doe not deceyue those that trauayle, I thincke they will confesse wyth me, that few Citties in Italy, can surpasse the sayd Citty of Verona, aswell for the Nauigable riuer called Adissa, which passeth almost through the midst of the same, and thereby a great trafique into Almayne, as also for the prospect towards the Fertile Mountaynes, and pleasant valeys whych do enuiron the same, with a great number of very clere and lyuely fountaynes, that serue for the ease and commodity of the place. Omittinge (bisides many other singularities) foure Bridges, and an infinite number of other honourable Antiquities dayly apparaunt vnto those, that be to curious to viewe and looke vpon them. Which places I haue somewhat touched, bicause thys most true History which I purpose hereafter to recite, dependeth thereupon, the memory whereof to thys day is so wel known at Verona, as vnneths their blubbred Eyes be yet dry, that saw and beheld that lamentable sight. When the Senior Escala was Lord of Verona, there were two families in the Citty, of farre greater fame than the rest, aswell for riches as Nobility: the one called the Montesches, and the other the Capellets: but lyke as most commonly there is discorde amongs theym which be of semblable degree in honour, euen so there hapned a certayne enmity betweene them: and for so mutch as the beginning thereof was vnlawfull, and of ill foundation, so lykewyse in processe of time it kindled to sutch flame, as by diuers and sundry deuyses practised on both sides, many lost their lyues. The Lord Bartholmew of Escala, (of whom we haue already spoken) being Lord of Verona, and seeing sutch disorder in his common weale, assayed diuers and sundry waies to reconcile those two houses, but all in vayne: for their hatred had taken sutch roote, as the same could not be moderated by any wyse counsell or good aduice: betweene whom no other thing could be accorded, but geuing ouer Armour, and Weapon for the time, attending some other season more conuenient, and wyth better leysure to appease the rest. In the time that these thinges were adoing, one of the family of Montesches called Rhomeo, of the age of 20 or 21. yeares, the comliest and best conditioned Gentleman that was amonges the Veronian youth, fell in loue with a yong Gentlewoman of Verona, and in few dayes was attached with hir Beauty, and good behauiour, as he abandoned all other affaires and busines, to serue and honour hir: and after many Letters, Ambassades, and presents, he determined in the ende to speake vnto hir, and to disclose hys passions, which he did without any other practise. But she which was vertuously brought vp, knew how to make him so good answer to cut of his amorous affections, as he had no lust after that time to returne any more, and shewed hir self so austere, and sharpe of Speach, as she vouchsafed not with one looke to behold him. But how mutch the young Gentleman saw hir whist, and silent, the more he was inflamed: and after he had continued certayne months in that seruice wythout remedy of his griefe, he determined in the ende to depart Verona, for proofe if by chaunge of the place he might alter his affection, saying to himselfe: “What do I meane to loue one that is so vnkinde, and thus doth disdayn me: I am all hir owne, and yet she flieth from me. I can no longer liue, except hir presence I doe enioy: and she hath no contented mynde, but when she is furthest from me: I will then from henceforth Estraunge my selfe from hir, for it may so come to passe by not beholding hir, that thys fire in me which taketh increase and nourishment by hir fayre Eyes, by little and little may dy and quench.” But minding to put in proose what he thought, at one instant hee was reduced to the contrary, who not knowing whereupon to resolue, passed dayes and nights in marueilous Playnts, and Lamentations: for Loue vexed him so neare, and had so well fixed the Gentlewoman’s Beauty within the Bowels of his heart, and mynde, as not able to resist, hee faynted with the charge, and consumed by little and little as the Snow agaynst the Sunne: whereof hys parenttes, and kinred did maruayle greatly, bewaylinge hys misfortune, but aboue all other one of hys Companyons of riper Age, and Counsell than hee, began sharpely to rebuke him: for the loue that he bare him was so great as hee felt hys Martirdome, and was pertaker of hys passion: which caused him by ofte viewyng his friend’s disquietnesse in amorous panges, to say thus vnto him: “Rhomeo, I maruell mutch that thou spendest the best time of thine age, in pursute of a thing, from which thou seest thy self despised and banished, wythout respecte either to thy prodigall dispense, to thine honor, to thy teares, or to thy myserable lyfe, which be able to moue the most constant to pity: wherefore I pray thee for the Loue of our auncient amity, and for thyne health sake, that thou wilt learn to be thine owne man, and not to alyenat thy lyberty to any so ingrate as she is: for so farre as I coniecture by things that are passed betwene you, either she is in loue wyth some other, or else determineth neuer to loue any. Thou arte yong, rich in goods and fortune, and more excellent in beauty than any Gentleman in thys Cyty: thou art well learned, and the onely sonne of the house wherof thou commest: what gryef would it bee to thy poore olde Father and other thy parentes, to see the so drowned in this dongeon of Vyce, specially at that age wherein thou oughtest rather to put them in some Hope of thy Vertue? begyn then from henceforth to acknowledge thyne error, wherein thou hast hitherto lyued, doe away that amorous vaile or couerture whych blyndeth thyne Eyes and letteth thee to folow the ryghte path, wherein thine auncestors haue walked: or else if thou do feele thy self so subiect to thyne owne wyll, yelde thy hearte to some other place, and chose some Mistresse accordyng to thy worthynesse, and henceforth doe not sow thy Paynes in a Soyle so barrayne whereof thou reapest no Fruycte: the tyme approcheth when al the Dames of the Cyty shal assemble, where thou mayst behold sutch one as shall make thee forget thy former gryefs.” Thys younge Gentleman attentyuely hearyng all the persuadyng reasons of hys fryend, began somewhat to moderate that heate and to acknowledge all the exhortatyons which hee had made to be directed to good purpose: and then determined to put them in proofe, and to be present indifferently at al the feasts and assemblies of the City, without bearing affection more to one Woman than to an other: and continued in thys manner of Lyfe, II. or III. monthes, thinking by that meanes to quench the sparks of auncient flames. It chaunced then within few dayes after, about the feast of Chrystmasse, when feasts and bankets most commonly be vsed, and maskes accordinge to the custome frequented, that Anthonie Capellet being the Chief of that Familye, and one of the principall Lords of the City too, made a banket, and for the better Solempnization thereof, inuited all the Noble men and dames, to which Feast resorted the most part of the youth of Verona. The family of the Capellets (as we haue declared in the beginninge of thys Hystory) was at variance with the Montesches, which was the cause that none of that family repaired to that Banket, but onelye the yong Gentleman Rhomeo, who came in a maske after supper with certaine other yong Gentlemen: and after they had remained a certayne space with their visards on, at length they did put of the same, and Rhomeo very shamefast, withdrew himself into a Corner of the Hall: but by reason of the light of the Torches which burned very bright, he was by and by knowen and loked vpon of the whole Company, but specially of the Ladies, for besides his Natiue Beauty wherewyth Nature had adorned him, they maruelled at his audacity how hee durst presume to enter so secretly into the House of that Famyllye which had litle cause to do him any good. Notwithstanding, the Capellets dissembling their mallice, either for the honor of the company, or else for respect of his Age, did not misuse him eyther in Worde or Deede: by meanes whereof wyth free liberty he behelde and viewed the Ladies at hys Pleasure, which hee dyd so well, and wyth grace so good, as there was none but did very well lyke the presence of his person: and after he had particularly giuen Iudgement vppon the excellency of each one, according to his affection, hee sawe one Gentlewoman amonges the reste of surpassinge Beautye who (althoughe hee had neuer seene hir tofore) pleased him aboue the rest, and attributed vnto hir in heart the Chyefest place for all perfection in Beautye: and feastyng hir incessantlye with piteous lookes, the Loue whych hee bare to his first Gentlewoman, was ouercomen with this newe fire, that toke sutch norishment and vigor in his hart, as he was not able neuer to quench the same but by Death onely: as you may vnderstande by one of the strangest discourses, that euer any mortal man deuised. The yong Rhomeo then felying himselfe thus tossed wyth thys newe Tempest, could not tell what countenaunce to vse, but was so surprised and chaunged with these last flames, as he had almost forgotten himselfe, in sutch wise as he had not audacity to enquyre what she was, and wholly bente himself to feede hys Eyes with hir sighte, wherewyth he moystened the sweete amorous venome, which dyd so empoyson him, as hee ended hys Dayes with a kinde of most cruell death. The Gentlewoman that dydde put Rhomeo to sutch payne was called Iulietta, and was the Daughter of Capellet, the mayster of the house wher that assembly was, who as hir Eyes did rolle and wander too and fro, by chaunce espied Rhomeo, which vnto hir seemed to be the goodliest personage that euer shee sawe: and Loue (which lay in wayte neuer vntill that time,) assayling the tender heart of that yong Gentlewoman, touched hir so at the quicke, as for any resistance she coulde make, was not able to defende his forces, and then began to set at naught the royalties of the feast, and felt no pleasure in hir heart, but when she had a glimpse by throwing or receiuing some sight or looke of Rhomeo. And after they had contented eche others troubled heart with millions of amorous lookes which oftentimes interchangeably encountred and met together, the burning Beames gaue sufficient testimony of loue’s priuy onsettes. Loue hauing made the heartes breache of those two louers, as they two sought meanes to speake together, Fortune offered them a very meete and apt occasion. A certayne Lord of that troupe and companye tooke Iulietta by the Hande to Daunce, wherein shee behaued hir selfe so well, and wyth so excellent grace, as shee wanne that Daye the prise of Honour from all the Damosels of Verona. Rhomeo hauynge foreseene the place wherevnto shee mynded to retire, approched the same, and so dyscretelye vsed the matter, as hee founde the meanes at hir returne to sit beside hir: Iulietta when the daunce was finished, returned to the very place where she was set before, and was placed betwene Rhomeo and an other gentleman called Mercutio, which was a courtlyke Gentleman, very well be loued of all men, and by reason of his pleasaunt and curteous behauior was in euery company wel intertayned. Mercutio that was of audacity among Maydens, as a Lyon is among Lambes, seazed incontynently vpon the hande of Iulietta, whose hands wontedly were so cold both in Wynter and Sommer as the Mountayne yce, although the fire’s heat did warm the same. Rhomeo whych sat vppon the left side of Iulietta, seynge that Mercutio held hir by the right hand, toke hir by the other that he myght not be deceiued of his purpose, and strayning the same a little, he felt himself so prest wyth that newe fauor, as he remayned mute, not able to aunswer: but she perceyuyng by his chaunge of color, that the fault proceded of the vehemence of loue, desyryng to speake vnto hym, turned hir selfe towards hym, and wyth tremblyng voyce ioyned with virginal shamefastnesse, intermedled with a certayn bashfulnesse, sayd to hym: “Blessed be the houre of your neare approche:” but mynding to procede in further talke, loue had so closed vp hir mouth, as she was not able to end hir Tale. Wherunto the yong Gentleman all rauished with ioy and contentation, sighing, asked hir what was the cause of that ryght fortunate blessing: Iulietta, somwhat more emboldened with pytyful loke and smyling countenance, said vnto him: “Syr, do not maruell yf I do blesse your comminge hither, bicause sir Mercutio a good tyme wyth frosty hand hath wholly frosen mine, and you of your curtesy haue warmed the same agayne.” Wherunto immediatly Rhomeo replyed: “Madame, if the heauens haue ben so fauorable to employe me to do you some agreeable seruice, being repaired hither by chance amongs other Gentlemen, I esteeme the same well bestowed, crauying no greater benefite for satisfaction of all my contentations receiued in this World, than to serue obey and honor you so long as my lyfe doth last, as experience shall yeld more ample proofe when it shall please you to geue further assaye: moreouer, if you haue receiued any Heat by touche of my Hand, you may be well assured that those flames be dead in respect of the lyuely Sparkes and violent fire which sorteth from you fayre Eyes, which fire hath so fiercely inflamed all the most sensible parts of my body, as if I be not succored by the fauoure of your good graces, I do attend the time to be consumed to dust.” Scarse had he made an ende of those last words but the daunce of the Torche was at an end: whereby Iulietta, which wholly burnt in loue, straightly claspyng her Hand with hys, had no leysure to make other aunswer, but softly thus to say: “My deare frend, I know not what other assured wytnesse you desire of loue, but that I let you vnderstand that you be no more your own, than I am yours, beying ready and dysposed to obey you so farre as honour shal permyt, beseechying you for the present tyme to content your selfe wyth thys aunswere, vntyll some other season meeter to Commvnicate more secretly of our affaires.” Rhomeo seeing himselfe pressed to part of the Company, and for that hee knew not by what meanes he myght see hir agayne that was hys Life and Death, demaunded of one of his friends what shee was, who made aunswer that she was the Daughter of Capellet, the Lord of the house, and Mayster of that daye’s feast (who wroth beyonde measure that Fortune had sent him to so daungerous a place, thought it impossible to bring to end his enterprise begon.) Iulietta couetous on the other side, to know what yong Gentleman he was which had so curteously intertayned hir that Nyght, and of whome shee felt the new wound in hir heart, called an olde Gentlewoman of honor which had nursed hir and brought her vp, vnto whom she sayd leaning vpon hir shoulder: “Mother, what two young Gentlemen be they which first goe forth with the two Torches before them.” Vnto whome the old Gentlewoman told the name of the houses wherof they came. Then she asked hir againe, what young gentleman that was which holdeth the visarde in his hand, wyth the damaske cloke about him. “It is” (quod she) “Romeo Montesche, the sonne of youre Father’s capytall Enimye and deadly foe to all your kinne.” But the Mayden at the onely Name of Montesche was altogyther amazed, despayrynge for euer to attayne to husband hir great affectyoned fryend Rhomeo, for the auncyent hatreds betweene those two Families. Neuerthelesse she knewe so well how to dissemble hir grief and discontented Minde, as the olde Gentlewoman perceiued nothing, who then began to persuade hir to retire into hir Chamber: whom she obeyed, and being in bed, thinking to take hir wonted rest, a great tempest of diuers thoughtes began to enuiron and trouble hir Mynde, in sutch wyse as shee was not able to close hir Eyes, but turninge heere and there, fantasied diuers things in hir thought, sometimes purposed to cut of the whole attempte of that amorous practise, sometimes to continue the same. Thus was the poor pucell vexed with two contraries, the one comforted hir to pursue hir intent, the other proposed the immynente Perill wherevnto vndyscretly she headlong threwe hir self: and after she had wandred of long time in this amorous Laberinth, she knew not whereuppon to resolue, but wept incessantly, and accused hir selfe, saying: “Ah, Caitife and myserable Creature, from whence do rise these vnaccustomed Trauayles which I feele in Mynde, prouokynge mee to loose my reste: but infortunate wretch, what doe I know if that yong Gentleman doe loue mee as hee sayeth. It may be vnder the vaile of sugred woordes he goeth about to steale away mine honore, to be reuenged of my Parentes whych haue offended his, and by that meanes to my euerlastinge reproche to make me the fable of the Verona people.” Afterwardes sodainly as she condempned that which she suspected in the beginning, sayd: “Is it possible that vnder sutch beautye and rare comelynesse, dysloyaltye and treason may haue theyr Syedge and Lodgynge? If it bee true that the Face is the faythfull Messanger of the Mynde’s Conceypte, I may bee assured that hee doeth loue mee: for I marked so many chaunged Colours in his Face in time of his talke with me, and sawe him so transported and besides himselfe, as I cannot wyshe any other more certayne lucke of Loue, wherein I wyll persyst immutable to the laste gaspe of Lyfe, to the intente I may haue hym to bee my husband: for it maye so come to passe, as this newe aliaunce shall engender a perpetuall peace and Amity betweene hys House and mine.” Arrestinge then vppon this determynation styll, as she saw Rhomeo passinge before hir Father’s Gate, she shewed hir selfe with merry countenance, and followed him so with loke of Eye, vntill she had lost his sight. And continuing this manner of Lyfe for certaine Dayes, Rhomeo not able to content himself with lookes, daily did behold and marke the situation of the house, and one day amongs others hee espied Iulietta at hir Chamber Window, bounding vpon a narrow Lane, ryght ouer against which Chamber he had a Gardein which was the cause that Rhomeo fearing discouery of their loue, began the day time to passe no more before the Gate, but so soone as the Night with his browne Mantell had couered the Earth, hee walked alone vp and downe that little streat: and after he had bene there many times, missing the chiefest cause of his comming, Iulietta impacient of hir euill, one night repaired to hir window, and perceiued throughe the bryghtnesse of the Moone hir friend Rhomeo vnder hir window, no lesse attended for, than hee hymselfe was waighting. Then she secretly with Teares in hir Eyes, and wyth voyce interrupted by sighes, sayd: “Signior Rhomeo, me thinke that you hazarde your person to mutch, and commyt the same into great Daunger at thys time of the Nyght, to protrude your self to the Mercy of them which meane you little good. Who yf they had taken would haue cut you in pieces, and mine honor (which I esteme dearer than my lyfe,) hindred and suspected for euer” “Madame” aunswered Rhomeo, “my Lyfe is in the Hand of God, who only can dispose the same: howbeyt yf any Man had soughte menes to beryeue mee of my Lyfe, I should (in the presence of you) haue made him knowen what mine ability had ben to defend the same. Notwythstandyng Lyfe is not so deare, and of sutch estimation wyth me, but that I coulde vouchsafe to sacryfice the same for your sake: and althoughe my myshappe had bene so greate, as to bee dyspatched in that Place, yet had I no cause to be sorrye therefore, excepte it had bene by losynge the meanes, and way how to make you vnderstande the good wyll and duety which I beare you, desyrynge not to conserue the same for anye commodytye that I hope to haue thereby, nor for anye other respecte, but onelye to Loue, Serue, and Honor you, so long as breath shal remaine in me.” So soone as he had made an end of his talke, loue and pity began to seaze vpon the heart of Iulietta, and leaning hir head vpon hir hand, hauing hir face all besprent wyth teares, she said vnto Rhomeo: “Syr Rhomeo, I pray you not to renue that grief agayne: for the onely Memory of sutch inconuenyence, maketh me to counterpoyse betwene death and Lyfe, my heart being so vnited with yours, as you cannot receyue the least Iniury in this world, wherein I shall not be so great a Partaker as your self: beseechyng you for conclusion, that if you desire your owne health and mine, to declare vnto me in fewe Wordes what youre determynation is to attaine: for if you couetany other secrete thing at my Handes, more than myne Honoure can well allowe, you are maruelously deceiued: but if your desire be godly, and that the frendship which you protest to beare mee, be founded vppon Vertue, and to bee concluded by Maryage, receiuing me for your wyfe and lawfull Spouse, you shall haue sutch part in me, as whereof without any regard to the obedience and reuerence that I owe to my Parentes, or to the auncient Enimity of oure Famylyes, I wyll make you the onely Lord and Mayster [ouer me], and of all the thyngys that I possesse, being prest and ready in all poyntes to folow your commaundement: but if your intent be otherwyse, and thinke to reape the Fruycte of my Virginity, vnder pretense of wanton Amity, you be greatly deceiued, and doe pray you to auoide and suffer me from henceforth to lyue and rest amongs myne equals.” Rhomeo whych looked for none other thyng, holding vp his Handes to the Heauens, wyth incredible ioy and contentation, aunswered: “Madame, for so mutch as it hath pleased you to doe me that honour to accepte me for sutch a one, I accorde and consent to your request, and doe offer vnto you the best part of my heart, which shall remayn with you for guage and sure testimony of my saying, vntill sutch tyme as God shall giue me leaue to make you the entier owner and possessor of the same. And to the intent I may begyn myn enterpryse, to morrow I will to the Frier Laurence for counsell in the same, who besides that he is my ghostly father is accustomed to giue me instruction in al my other secret affaires, and fayle not (if you please) to meete me agayne in this place at this very hour, to the intent I may giue you to vnderstand the deuice betwene him and me.” Which she lyked very well, and ended their talke for that time. Rhomeo receyuing none other fauour at hir hands for that night, but only Wordes. Thys Fryer Laurence, of whom hereafter wee shall make more ample mention, was an auncient Doctor of Diuinity, of the order of the Fryers Minors, who besides the happy profession which he had made in study of holy writ, was very skilful in Philosophy, and a great searcher of nature’s Secrets, and exceeding famous in Magike knowledge, and other hidden and secret sciences, which nothing diminished his reputation, bicause hee did not abuse the same. And this Frier through his vertue and piety, had so well won the citizens hearts of Verona, as he was almost the Confessor to them all, and of all men generally reuerenced and beloued: and many tymes for his great prudence was called by the lords of the Citty, to the hearing of their weighty causes. And amonges other he was greatly fauored by the Lorde of Escale, that tyme the principall gouernor of Verona, and of all the Family of Montesches, and of the Capellets, and of many other. The young Rhomeo (as we haue already declared) from his tender age, bare a certayne particuler amity to Frier Laurence, and departed to him his secrets, by meanes whereof so soone as he was gone from Iulietta, went strayght to the Fryers Franciscians, where from poinct to poinct he discoursed the successe of his loue to that good father, and the conclusion of mariage betwene him and Iulietta, adding vpon the ende of talke, that hee woulde rather choose shamefull death, than to fayle hir of his promise. To whom the good Frier after he had debated diuers matters, and proposed al the inconueniences of that secret mariage, exhorted hym to more mature deliberation of the same: notwithstandinge, all the alleged persuasions were not able to reuoke his promyse. Wherefore the Frier vanquished with his stubbornesse, and also forecasting in his mynde that the mariage might be some meanes of reconciliation of those two houses, in th’end agreed to his request, intreating him, that he myght haue one dayes respit for leysure to excogitate what was best to be done. But if Rhomeo for his part was carefull to prouide for his affayres, Iulietta lykewise did her indeuour. For seeing that shee had none about her to whom she might discouer her passions, shee deuised to impart the whole to hir Nurse which lay in her Chamber, appoyncted to wayte vppon hir, to whom she committed the intier secrets of the loue between Rhomeo and hir. And although the olde Woman in the beginninge resisted Iulietta hir intent, yet in the ende she knew so wel how to persuade and win hir, that she promised in all that she was able to do, to be at hir commaundement. And then she sent hir with all diligence to speake to Rhomeo, and to know of him by what meanes they might be maried, and that he would do hir to vnderstand the determination betwene Fryer Laurence and him. Whom Rhomeo aunswered, how the first day wherein he had informed Fryer Laurence of the matter, the sayde Fryer deferred aunswere vntil the next, which was the very same, and that it was not past one houre sithens he returned with finall resolution, and that Frier Laurence and he had deuised, that she the Saterday following, should craue leaue of hir mother to go to confession, and to repayre to the Church of Saynct Francis, where in a certayne Chappell secretly they should be maried, praying hir in any wyse not to fayle to be there. Which thinge she brought to passe with sutch discretion, as hir mother agreed to hir request: and accompanied onely wyth hir gouernesse, and a young mayden, she repayred thither at the determined day and tyme. And so soone as she was entred the Church, she called for the good Doctor Fryer Laurence, vnto whom answere was made that he was in the shriuing Chappell, and forthwith aduertisement was gieuen him of hir comming. So soone as Fryer Laurence was certified of Iulietta, hee went into the body of the Church, and willed the olde Woman and yong mayden to go heare seruice, and that when hee had heard the confession of Iulietta, he would send for them agayn. Iulietta beinge entred a little Cell wyth Frier Laurence, he shut fast the dore as he was wont to do, where Rhomeo and he had bin together shut fast in, the space of one whole hour before. Then Frier Laurence after that he had shriued them, sayd to Iulietta: “Daughter, as Rhomeo here present hath certified me, you be agreed, and contented to take him to husband, and he likewise you for his Espouse and Wyfe. Do you now still persist and continue in that mynde?” The Louers aunswered that they desired none other thing. The Fryer seeing theyr conformed and agreeable willes, after he had discoursed somewhat vppon the commendation of mariage dignity, pronounced the vsuall woordes of the Church, and she hauing receyued the Ring from Rhomeo, they rose vp before the Fryer, who sayd vnto them: “If you haue any other thing to conferre together, do the same wyth speede: for I purpose that Rhomeo shall goe from hence so secretly as he can.” Rhomeo sory to goe from Iulietta sayde secretly vnto hir, that shee should send vnto hym after diner the old Woman, and that he would cause to be made a corded Ladder the same euening, thereby to climbe vp to her Chamber window, where at more leisure they would deuise of their affaires. Things determined betwene them, either of them retyred to their house with incredible contentation, attendinge the happy houre for consummation of their mariage. When Rhomeo was come home to his house, he declared wholly what had passed betwen him and Iulietta, vnto a Seruaunt of his called Pietro, whose fidelity he had so greatly tryed, as he durst haue trusted him with hys life, and commaunded hym wyth expedition to prouide a Ladder of Cordes wyth 2 strong Hookes of Iron fastned to both endes, which he easily did, because they were mutch vsed in Italy. Iulietta did not forget in the Euening about fiue of the Clocke, to send the olde Woman to Rhomeo, who hauing prepared all things necessary, caused the Ladder to be deliuered vnto her, and prayed hir to require Iulietta the same euening not to fayle to bee at the accustomed place. But if this Iorney seemed long to these two passioned Louers, let other Iudge, that haue at other tymes assayed the lyke: for euery minute of an houre seemed to them a Thousande yeares, so that if they had power to commaund the Heauens (as Iosua did the Sunne) the Earth had incontinently bene shadowed wyth darkest Cloudes. The apoyncted houre come, Rhomeo put on the most sumptuous apparell hee had, and conducted by good fortune neere to the place where his heart tooke lyfe, was so fully determined of hys purpose, as easily hee clymed vp the Garden wall. Beinge arriued hard to the wyndow, he perceyued Iulietta, who had already so well fastned the Ladder to draw him vp, as without any daunger at all, he entred hir chambre, which was so clere as the day, by reason of the Tapers of virgin Wax, which Iulietta had caused to be lighted, that she might the better beholde hir Rhomeo. Iulietta for hir part, was but in hir night kerchief: who so soon as she perceyued him colled him about the Neck, and after shee had kissed and rekissed hym a million of times, began to imbrace hym betwene hir armes, hauing no power to speake vnto him, but by Sighes onely, holding hir mouth close against his, and being in this traunce beheld him with pitifull eye, which made him to liue and die together. And afterwards somewhat come to hir selfe, she sayd with sighes deepely fetched from the bottom of hir heart. “Ah Rhomeo, the exampler of al vertue and gentlenes, most hartely welcome to this place, wherein for your lacke, and absence, and for feare of your person, I haue gushed forth so many Teares as the spring is almost dry: but now that I hold you betwen my armes, let death and fortune doe what they list. For I count my selfe more than satisfied of all my sorrowes past, by the fauour alone of your presence.” Whom Rhomeo with weeping eye, giuing ouer silence aunswered: “Madame, for somutch as I neuer receyued so mutch of fortune’s grace, as to make you feele by liuely experience what power you had ouer me, and the torment euery minute of the day sustained for your occasion, I do assure you the least grief that vexeth me for your absence, is a thousand times more paynefull than death, which long time or this had cut of the threede of my lyfe, if the hope of this happy Iourney had not bene, which paying mee now the iust Tribute of my weepings past, maketh me better content, and more glad, than if the whole Worlde were at my commaundement, beseeching you (without further memory of auncient griefe) to take aduice in tyme to come how we may content our passionate hearts, and to sort our affayres with sutch Wysedome and discretion, as our enimies without aduantage may let vs continue the remnant of our dayes in rest and quiet.” And as Iulietta was about to make answere, the Olde woman came in the meane time, and sayd vnto them: “He that wasteth time in talke, recouereth the same to late. But for so mutch as eyther of you hath endured sutch mutuall paynes, behold (quoth shee) a campe which I haue made ready:” (shewing them the Fielde bed which shee had prepared and furnished,) whereunto they easily agreed, and being then betwene the Sheets in priuy bed, after they had gladded and cherished themselues with al kinde of delicate embracements which loue was able to deuise, Rhomeo vnloosing the holy lines of virginity, tooke possession of the place, which was not yet besieged with sutch ioy and contentation as they can iudge which haue assayed like delites. Their marriage thus consummate, Rhomeo perceyuing the morning make to hasty approch, tooke his leaue, making promise that he would not fayle wythin a day or two to resort agayne to the place by lyke meanes, and semblable time, vntil Fortune had prouided sure occasion vnfearfully to manyfest their marriage to the whole Worlde. And thus a month or twayne, they continued their ioyful mindes to their incredible satisfaction, vntil lady Fortune enuious of their prosperity, turned hir Wheele to tumble them into such a bottomlesse pit, as they payed hir vsury for their pleasures past, by a certaine most cruell and pitifull death, as you shal vnderstand hereafter by the discourse that followeth. Now as we haue before declared, the Capellets and the Montesches were not so well reconciled by the Lord of Verona, but that there rested in them sutch sparks of auncient displeasures, as either partes waited but for some light occasion to draw togethers, which they did in the Easter holy dayes, (as bloudy men commonly be most willingly disposed after a good time to commit some nefarious deede) besides the Gate of Boursarie leading to the olde castel of Verona, a troupe of Capellets rencountred with certayne of the Montesches, and without other woordes began to set vpon them. And the Capellets had for Chiefe of their glorious enterprise one called Thibault, cosin Germayne to Iulietta, a yong man strongly made, and of good experience of armes, who exhorted his Companions with stout Stomakes to represse the boldnes of the Montesches, that ther might from that time forth no memory of them be left at all. The rumoure of this fray was disperssed throughout al the corners of Verona, that succour might come from all partes of the Citty to depart the same. Whereof Rhomeo aduertized, who walked alonges the Citty with certayne of his Companions, hasted him speadily to the place where the slaughter of his Parents and alies were committed: and after he had well aduised and beholden many wounded and hurt on both sides, he sayd to hys Companions: “My frends let vs part them, for they be so flesht one vpon an other, as will all be hewed to pieces before the game be done.” And saying so, he thrust himselfe amids the troupe, and did no more but part the blowes on eyther side, crying vpon them aloud: “My freends, no more, it is time henceforth that our quarel cease. For besides the prouocation of God’s iust wrath, our two families be slaunderous to the whole World, and are the cause that this common wealth doth grow vnto disorder.” But they were so egre and furious one agaynst the other, as they gaue no audience to Rhomeo his councel, and bent theymselues too kyll, dysmember and teare eche other in pieces. And the fyght was so cruell and outragious betweene them as they which looked on, were amased to see theym endure those blowes, for the grounde was all couered with armes, legges, thighes, and bloude, wherein no signe of cowardnes appeared, and mayntayned their feyghte so longe, that none was able to iudge who hadde the better, vntill that Thibault Cousin to Iulietta inflamed with ire and rage, turned towardes Rhomeo thinkinge with a pricke to runne him through. But he was so wel armed and defended with a priuye coat whiche he wore ordinarily for the doubt he had of the Capellets, as the pricke rebounded: vnto whom Rhomeo made answeare: “Thibault thou maiest know by the pacience which I haue had vntill this present tyme, that I came not hether to fyght with thee or thyne, but to seeke peace and attonemente betweene vs, and if thou thinkest that for defaulte of courage I haue fayled myne endeuor, thou doest greate wronge to my reputacion. And impute thys my suffrance to some other perticular respecte, rather than to wante of stomacke. Wherfore abuse mee not but be content with this greate effusion of Bloude and murders already committed. And prouoke mee not I beseeche thee to passe the boundes of my good will and mynde.” “Ah Traitor,” sayd Thibaulte, “thou thinkeste to saue thy selfe by the plotte of thy pleasaunt tounge, but see that thou defende thy selfe, els presently I will make thee feele that thy tounge shal not gard thy corps, nor yet be the Buckler to defende the same from present death.” And saying so, he gaue him a blow with such furye, as hadde not other warded the same hee had cutte of his heade from his shoulders, and the one was no readyer to lende, but the other incontinentlye was able to paye agayne, for hee being not onelye wroth with the blowe that hee had receiued, but offended with the iniury which the other had don, began to pursue his ennemy with suche courage and viuacity, as at the third blowe with his swerd hee caused him to fall backewarde starke deade vppon the grounde with a pricke vehementlye thruste into his throte, whiche hee followed till hys Sworde appeared throughe the hynder parte of the same, by reason wherof the conflicte ceassed. For besides that Thibault was the chiefe of his companye he was also borne of one of the Noblest houses within the Cittye, which caused the Potestate to assemble his Souldiers with diligence for the apprehension and imprisonment of Rhomeo, who seyeng yl fortune at hande, in secrete wise conuayed him selfe to Fryer Laurence at the Friers Franciscanes. And the Fryer vnderstandinge of his facte, kepte him in a certayne secrete place of his couente vntil fortune did otherwyse prouyde for his safe goinge abroade. The bruite spred throughout the citty, of this chaunce don vpon the Lorde Thibault, the Capellets in mourning weedes caused the deade bodye to be caryed before the sygnory of Verona, so well to moue them to pytty, as to demaunde iustice for the murder: before whom came also the Montesches, declaryng the innocencye of Rhomeo, and the wilfull assault of the other. The councell assembled and witnesses heard on both partes a straight commaundemente was geuen by the Lorde of the Cittye to geeue ouer theire weapons, and touchinge the offence of Rhomeo, because he hadde killed the other in his owne defence, he was banished Verona for euer. This common misfortune published throughout the Citty, was generally sorowed and lamented. Som complayneth the death of the Lorde Thibault, so well for his dexteritye in armes as for the hope of his great good seruice in time to come, if hee hadde not bene preuented by sutch cruell Death. Other bewailed (specially the Ladies and Gentlewomen) the ouerthrow of yong Rhomeo, who besides his beauty and good grace wherwith he was enriched, had a certayne naturall allurement, by vertue whereof he drew vnto him the hearts of eche man, like as the stony Adamante doth the cancred iron, in sutch wise as the whole nation and people of Verona lamented his mischaunce: but aboue all infortunate Iulietta, who aduertised both of the death of hir cosin Thibault, and of the banishment of hir husband, made the Ayre sound with infinite number of mornefull playnts and miserable lamentations. Then feeling hirselfe to mutch outraged with extreeme passion, she went into hir chamber, and ouercome with sorrowe threwe hir selfe vpon hir bed, where she began to reinforce hir dolor after so straunge fashion, as the most constant would haue bene moued to pitty. Then like one out of hir wits, she gazed heere and there, and by fortune beholding the Window whereat Rhomeo was wont to enter into hir chamber, cried out: “Oh vnhappy Windowe, oh entry most vnlucky, wherein were wouen the bitter toyle of my former mishaps, if by thy meanes I haue receyued at other tymes some light pleasure or transitory contentation, thou now makest me pay a tribute so rigorous and paynefull, as my tender body not able any longer to support the same, shall henceforth open the Gate to that lyfe where the ghost discharged from this mortal burden, shal seeke in some place els more assured rest. Ah Rhomeo, Rhomeo, when acquayntaunce first began betweene vs, and reclined myne eares vnto thy suborned promisses, confirmed with so many othes, I would neuer haue beleeued that in place of our continued amyty, and in appeasing of the hatred of our houses, thou wouldest haue sought occasion to breake the same by an acte so shamefull, whereby thy fame shall be spotted for euer, and I miserable wretch desolate of Spouse and Companion. But if thou haddest beene so gready after the Cappelletts bloud, wherefore didst thou spare the deare bloud of mine owne heart when so many tymes, and in sutch secret place the same was at the mercy of thy cruell handes? The victory which thou shouldest haue gotten ouer me, had it not bene glorious inough for thine ambitious minde, but for more triumphant solempnity to bee crowned wyth the bloude of my dearest kinsman? Now get thee hence therefore into some other place to deceiue some other, so vnhappy as my selfe. Neuer come agayne in place where I am, for no excuse shall heereafter take holde to asswage mine offended minde: in the meane tyme I shall lament the rest of my heauy lyfe, with sutch store of teares, as my body dried vp from all humidity, shall shortly search reliefe in Earth.” And hauing made an ende of those hir wordes, hir heart was so grieuously strayned, as shee coulde neyther weepe nor speake, and stoode so immoueable, as if she had bene in a traunce. Then being somewhat come agayne vnto hirselfe, with feeble voyce shee sayd: “Ah, murderous tongue of other men’s honor, how darest thou so infamously to speake of him whom his very enimies doe commend and prayse? How presumest thou to impute the blame vpon Rhomeo, whose vnguiltines and innocent deede euery man alloweth? Where from henceforth shall be hys refuge, sith she which ought to bee the onely Bulwarke, and assured rampire of his distresse, doth pursue and defame him? Receyue, receyue then Rhomeo the satisfaction of mine ingratitude by the sacrifice which I shal make of my proper lyfe, and so the faulte which I haue committed agaynste thy loyaltye, shall bee made open to the Worlde, thou being reuenged and my selfe punished.” And thinking to vse some further talke, all the powers of hir body fayled hir wyth signes of present death. But the good olde Woman whych could not imagine the cause of Iulietta hir longe absence, doubted very mutch that she suffred some passion, and sought hir vp and downe in euery place wythin hir Father’s Pallace, vntill at length shee founde hir lyinge a long vpon hir Bed, all the outwarde parts of hir body so colde as Marble. But the goode Old woman which thought hir to bee deade, began to cry like one out of hir Wittes, saying: “Ah deare Daughter, and Noursechylde, howe mutch doeth thy death now grieue mee at the very heart?” And as she was feeling all the partes of hir body, shee perceyued some sparke of Lyfe to bee yet within the same, whych caused hir to call hir many tymes by her name, til at length she brought her oute of her sounde, then sayde vnto her: “Why Iulietta, myne owne deare darelyng, what meane you by this tormoylinge of your selfe? I cannot tel from whence this youre behauiour and that immoderate heauines doe proceede, but wel I wot that within this houre I thought to haue accompanied you to the graue.” “Alas good mother” (aunswered woful Iulietta) “do you not most euidently perceiue and see what iust cause I haue too sorrow and complayne, loosyng at one instante two persons of the world which wer vnto mee most deare?” “Methinke,” aunsweared the good woman, “that it is not seemely for a gentlewoman of your degree to fall into such extremetye: for in tyme of tribulation wysedome should most preuaile. And if the lord Thibault be deade do you thinke to get him agayn by teares? What is he that doth not accuse his ouermutch presumption: woulde you that Rhomeo hadd done that wronge to him, and hys house, to suffer himselfe outraged and assayled by one to whom in manhoode and prowesse he is not inferioure? Sufficeth you that Rhomeo is alyue, and his affayres in sutche estate whoe in tyme may be called home agayne from banishmente, for he is a greate lorde, and as you know well allied and fauored of all men, wherefore arme your selfe from henceforth with pacyence: for albeit that Fortune doth estraunge him from you for a tyme, yet sure I am, that hereafter shee will restore him vnto you agayne wyth greater ioye and Contentatyon than before. And to the Ende that wee bee better assured in what state he is, yf you wyll promyse me to gyue ouer your heauynesse, I wyll to Daye knowe of Fryer Laurence whether he is gone.” To which request Iulietta agreed, and then the good woman repayred to S. Frauncis, wher shee founde Fryer Laurence who tolde her that the same nyghte Rhomeo would not fayle at hys accustomed houre to visite Iulietta, and there to do hir to vnderstande what he purposed to doe in tyme to come. This iorney then fared like the voiages of mariners, who after they haue ben tost by greate and troublous tempest seeyng some Sunne beame pearce the heauens to lyghten the lande, assure themselues agayne, and thinkinge to haue auoyded shipwracke, and sodaynlye the seas begynne to swell, the waues do roare with sutch vehemence and noyse, as if they were fallen agayne into greater danger than before. The assigned hour come, Rhomeo fayled not accordinge to hys promise to bee in his Garden, where he founde his furniture prest to mount the Chamber of Iulietta, who with displayed armes, began so strayghtly to imbrace hym, as it seemed that the soule would haue abandoned hir body. And they two more than a large quarter of an hour were in sutch agony, as they were not able to pronounce one word, and wetting ech others Face fast closed together, the teares trickeled downe in sutch abundance as they seemed to be throughly bathed therein, which Rhomeo perceyuing, thinking to stay those immoderate teares, sayd vnto hir: “Myne owne dearest freend Iulietta, I am not now determined to recite the particulars of the straung happes of frayle and inconstaunte Fortune, who in a moment hoisteth a man vp to the hyghest degree of hir wheele, and by and by, in lesse space than in the twynckeling of an eye, she throweth hym downe agayne so lowe, as more misery is prepared for him in one day, than fauour in one hundred yeares: whych I now proue, and haue experience in my selfe, which haue bene nourished delicately amonges my frends, and maynteyned in sutch prosperous state, as you doe little know, (hoping for the full perfection of my felicity) by meanes of our mariage to haue reconciled our Parents, and frends, and to conduct the residue of my lyfe, according to the scope and lot determined by Almighty God: and neuerthelesse all myne enterprises be put backe, and my purposes tourned cleane contrary, in sutch wise as from henceforth I must wander lyke a vagabonde through diuers Prouinces, and sequestrate my selfe from my Frends, wythout assured place of myne abode, whych I desire to let you weete, to the intent you may be exhorted in tyme to come, paciently to beare so well myne absence, as that whych it shal please God to appoint.” But Iulietta, al affrighted wyth teares and mortal agonies, would not suffer hym to passe any further, but interruptinge his purpose, sayd vnto hym: “Rhomeo, how canst thou be so harde hearted and voyde of all pity, to leaue mee heere lone, besieged with so manye deadlye myseries? There is neyther houre nor Minute, wherein death doth not appeare a thousand tymes before mee, and yet my missehappe is sutch, as I can not dye, and therefore doe manyfestlye perceyue, that the same death preserueth my lyfe, of purpose to delight in my gryefes, and tryumphe ouer my euyls. And thou lyke the mynister and tyrante of hir cruelty, doest make no conscience (for ought that I can see) hauing atchieued the Summe of thy desyres and pleasures on me, to abandon and forsake me: whereby I well perceyue, that all the lawes of Amity are deade and vtterly extinguyshed, forsomutch as he in whom I had greatest hope and confidence, and for whose sake I am become an enimy to my self, doth disdayne and contemne me. No, no Rhomeo, thou must fully resolue thy selfe vppon one of these II. points, either to see me incontinently throwen down headlong from this high Window after thee: or else to suffer me to accompany thee into that Countrey or Place whither Fortune shall guide thee: for my heart is so mutch transformed into thine, that so soone as I shall vnderstande of thy departure, presently my lyfe will depart this wofull body: the continuance whereof I doe not desire for any other purpose, but only to delight my selfe in thy presence, to bee pertaker of thy misfortunes: and therefore if euer there lodged any pity in the heart of gentleman, I beseeche the Rhomeo with al humility, that it may now finde place in thee, and that thou wilt vouchsafe to receyue me for thy seruaunt, and the faithful companion of thy mishaps: and if thou thinke that thou canst not conueniently receyue me in the estate and habite of a Wyfe, who shall let me to chaunge myne apparell? Shall I be the first that haue vsed like shiftes to escape the tyranny of parentes? Doste thou doubt that my seruice will not bee so good vnto thee as that of Petre thy seruaunte? Wyll my loyaltye and fidelity be lesse than his? My beauty which at other tymes thou hast so greatly commended, it is not esteemed of thee? my teares, my loue, and the aunciente pleasures and delights that you haue taken in mee shal they be in obliuyon?” Rhomeo seing hir in these alterations, fearing that worsse inconuenience would chaunce, tooke hir agayne betweene hys armes, and kissing her amorously, sayd:“Iulietta, the onely mistresse of my heart, I pray thee in the Name of God, and for the feruent Loue whych thou bearest vnto me, to doe away those vayne cogitations, excepte thou meane to seeke and hazard the destruction of vs both: for if thou perseuer in this purpose, there is no remedye but wee muste both perish: for so soone as thyne absence shalbe knowen, thy Father will make sutch earnest pursute after vs, that we cannot choose but be discried and taken, and in the ende cruelly punished, I as a theefe and stealer of thee, and thou as a dysobedyent Daughter to thy Father: and so in stead of pleasaunt and quiet Lyfe, our Dayes shalbe abridged by most shamefull Death. But if thou wylt recline thy self to reason, (the ryght rule of humane Lyfe,) and for the tyme abandon our mutuall delyghts, I will take sutch order in the time of my banishment, as within three or foure Months wythoute any delay, I shalbe reuoked home agayne: but if it fall out otherwyse (as I trust not,) howsoeuer it happen, I wyll come agayne vnto thee, and with the helpe of my Fryendes wyll fetch the from Verona by strong Hand, not in Counterfeit Apparell as a straunger, but lyke my spouse and perpetuall companion: in the meane tyme quyet your selfe, and be sure that nothing else but death shall deuide and put vs a sunder.” The reasons of Rhomeo so mutch preuailed with Iulietta, as shee made hym thys aunswere: “My deare fryend, I wyll doe nothing contrary to your wyll and pleasure: and to what place so euer you repayre, my hearte shall bee your owne, in like sorte as you haue giuen yours to be mine: in the meane while I pray you not to faile oftentimes to aduertise me by Frier Laurence, in what state your affaires be, and specially of the place of your abode.” Thus these two pore louers passed the Night togither, vntil the day began to appeare which did dyuyde them, to their extreame sorrow and gryef. Rhomeo hauiuge taken leaue of Iulietta, went to S. Fraunces, and after he hadde aduertysed Frier Laurence of his affaires, departed from Verona in the habit of a Marchaunt straunger, and vsed sutch expedytyon, as without hurt he arriued at Mantuona, (accompanied onely wyth Petre his Seruaunt, whome hee hastily sente backe agayne to Verona, to serue his Father) where he tooke a house: and lyuying in honorable companye, assayed certayne Monthes to put away the gryefe whych so tormented him. But duryng the tyme of his absence, miserable Iulietta could not so cloke hir sorrow, but that through the euyll colour of hir face, hir inwarde passion was discryed: by reason whereof hir Mother, who heard hir oftentimes sighing, and incessantly complayning, coulde not forbeare to say vnto hir: “Daughter, if you continue long after thys sort, you wyll hasten the Death of your good Father and me, who loue you so dearely as our owne lyues: wherefore henceforth moderate your heauinesse, and endeuor your self to be mery: think no more vpon the Death of your cosin Thibault, whome (sith it pleased God to cal away) do you thinke to reuoke wyth Teares, and so withstande his Almightye will?” But the pore Gentlewoman not able to dyssemble hir griefe, sayd vnto hir: “Madame, long time it is sithens the last Teares for Thibault were poured forth, and I beleue that the fountayne is so well soked and dried vp, as no more will spryng in that place.” The mother which could not tell to what effect those Woords were spoken held hir peace, for feare she should trouble hir Daughter: and certayne Dayes after seeing hir to continue in heauinesse and continuall griefs, assaied by al meanes possible to know, aswell of hir, as of other the housholde Seruauntes, the occasion of their sorrow, but al in vayne: wherwith the pore mother vexed beyonde measure, purposed to let the Lord Antonio hir Husband to vnderstand the case of hir Daughter: and vppon a day seeing him at conuenient leisure, she sayd vnto him: “My Lord, if you haue marked the countenaunce of our daughter, and hir kinde of behauior sithens the Death of the Lord Thibault hir Cosyn, you shall perceiue so straunge mutation in hir, as it will make you to maruell, for she is not onely contented to forgoe meate, drinke and slepe, but she spendeth hir tyme in nothinge else then in Weeping and Lamentatyon, delighting to kepe hir self solytarye wythin hir Chamber, where she tormenteth hir self so outragiously as yf wee take not heede, hir Lyfe is to be doubted, and not able to knowe the Oryginall of hir Payne, the more difficulte shall be the remedye: for albeit that I haue sought meanes by all extremity, yet cannot I learne the cause of hir sicknesse: and where I thought in the beginning, that it proceded vpon the Death of hir Cosin, now I doe manifestly perceiue the contrary, specially when she hir self did assure me that she had already wept and shed the last teares for him that she was mynded to doe: and vncertayne whereuppon to resolue, I do thinke verily that she mourneth for some despite, to see the most part of theyr companions maried, and she yet vnprouyded, persuading with hir selfe (it may be) that wee hir Parents do not care for hir: wherefore deare Husband, I heartely beseech you for our rest and hir quiet, that hereafter ye be carefull to prouyde for hir some maryage worthy of our state.” Whereunto the Lord Antonio, willingly agreed, saying vnto hir: “Wyfe, I haue many times thought vppon that whereof you speake, notwythstandyng sith as yet shee is not attayned to the age of XVIII. yeares, I thought to prouide a husband at leysure: neuerthelesse things beinge come to these Termes, and knowing the Virgins chastity is a dangerous Treasure, I wyll be mindfull of the same to your contentation, and she matched in sutch wyse, as she shall thynke the tyme hitherto well delayed. In the meane while marke dylygently whyther she bee in loue wyth any, to the end that we haue not so greate regarde to goodes, or the Nobylity of the house wherein we meane to bestow hir, as to the Lyfe and Health of our Daughter who is to me so deare as I had rather die a Begger without Landes or goods, than to bestow hir vpon one which shall vse and intreat hir il.” Certayne dayes after that the Lorde Antonio had bruted the maryage of his daughter, many Gentlemen were suters, so wel for the excellency of hir Beauty, as for hir great Rychesse and reuenue. But aboue all others the alyaunce of a young Earle named Paris, the Counte of Lodronne, lyked the Lord Antonio: vnto whom lyberally he gaue his consent, and told his Wyfe the party vppon whom he dyd mean to bestow his Daughter. The mother very ioyful that they had found so honest a Gentleman for theyr Daughter, caused hir secretly to be called before hir, doyng hir to vnderstande what things had passed betwen hir father and the Counte Paris, discoursing vnto hir the beauty and good grace of the yong Counte, the vertues for which he was commended of al men, ioyning therevnto for conclusion the great richesse and fauor which he had in the goods of fortune, by means whereof she and hir Fryends should liue in eternal honor: but Iulietta which had rather to haue ben torne in pieces than to agree to that maryage, answered hir mother with a more than accustomed stoutnesse: “Madame, I mutch maruel, and therewithal am astonned that you being a Ladye discrete and honorable, wil be so liberal ouer your Daughter as to commit hir to the pleasure and wil of an other, before you do know how hir mind is bent: you may do as it pleaseth you, but of one thing I do wel assure you, that if you bring it to passe, it shal be against my wil: and touching the regard and estimation of Counte Paris, I shal first lose my Lyfe before he shal haue power to touch any part of my body: which being done, it is you that shal be counted the murderer, by deliueryng me into the handes of him, whome I neyther can, wil, or know whiche way to loue: wherefore I praye you to suffer me henceforth thus to lyue, wythout taking any further care of me, for so mutche as my cruell fortune hath otherwyse disposed of me.” The dolorous Mother which knewe not what Iudgement to fixe vpon hir daughter’s aunswere, lyke a woman confused and besides hir selfe went to seeke the Lord Antonio, vnto whom without conceyling any part of hir Daughter’s aunswer, she dyd him vnderstand the whole. The good olde man offended beyond measure, commaunded her incontinently by Force to be brought before him, if of hir own good will she would not come: so soone as she came before hir Father, hir eyes full of teares, fel down at his fete, which she bathed with the luke warme drops that distilled from hir Eyes in great abundance, and thynkyng to open hir mouth to crye him mercy, the sobbes and sighes many tymes stopt hir speach, that shee remained dumbe not able to frame a Woorde. But the olde man nothing moued with his Daughter’s Teares, sayd vnto hir in great rage: “Come hither thou vnkynd and dysobedient Daughter, hast thou forgotten how many tymes thou hast hearde spoken at the Table, of the puissance and authoryty our auncyente Romane Fathers had ouer their chyldren? vnto whom it was not onelye lawfull to sell, guage, and otherwyse dispose them (in theyr necessity) at their pleasure, but also which is more, they had absolute power ouer their Death and Lyfe? With what yrons, with what torments, with what racks would those good Fathers chasten and correct thee if they were a liue againe, to see that ingratitude, misbehauior and disobedience which thou vsest towards thy Father, who with many prayers and requestes hath prouided one of the greatest Lords of this prouince to be thy husband, a Gentleman of best renoume, and indued wyth all kynde of Vertues, of whom thou and I be vnworthy, both for the notable masse of goods and substance wherewith he is enriched, as also for the Honoure and generositie of the house whereof hee is discended, and yet thou playest the parte of an obstinate and rebellyous Chyld agaynst thy Father’s will. I take the omnipotency of that Almightye God to witnesse, which hath vouchsafed to bryng the forth into this world, that if vpon Tuesday nexte thou failest to prepare thy selfe to be at my Castell of Villafranco, where the Counte Paris purposeth to meete vs, and there giue thy consent to that whych thy Mother and I haue agreed vppon, I will not onely depriue thee of my worldly goodes, but also will make the espouse and marie a pryson so straight and sharpe, as a thousande times thou shalt curse the Day and tyme wherein thou wast borne: wherfore from henceforth take aduisement what thou doest, for excepte the promise be kept which I haue made to the counte Paris, I will make the feele how greate the iust choler of an offended Father is against a Chylde vnkynde.” And without staying for other answer of his Daughter, the olde man departed the Chamber, and lefte hir vppon hir knees. Iulietta knowing the fury of hir Father, fearing to incurre his indignation, or to prouoke his further wrath, retired for the day into hir Chamber, and contriued that whole Nyght more in weeping then slepyng. And the next Morning fayning to goe heare seruice, she went forth with the woman of hir Chamber to the Fryers, where she caused father Laurence to be called vnto hir, and prayed him to heare hir confession: and when she was vpon hir knees before hym, shee began hir Confession wyth Teares, tellinge him the greate mischyefe that was prepared for hir, by the maryage accorded betweene hir Father and the Counte Paris: and for conclusion sayd vnto him: “Sir, for so mutch as you know that I cannot by God’s law bee maried twice, and that I haue but one God, one husband and one faith, I am determined when I am from hence, with these two hands which you see ioyned before you, this Day to ende my sorowful lyfe, that my soule may beare wytnesse in the Heauens, and my bloude vppon the Earth of my faith and loyalty preserued.” Then hauyng ended hir talke, shee looked about hir, and seemed by hir wylde countenaunce, as though she had deuised some sinister purpose: wherefore Frier Laurence, astonned beyonde measure, fearyng least she would haue executed that which she was determyned, sayd vnto hir: “Mistresse Iulietta, I pray you in the name of God by little and little to moderate youre conceiued griefe, and to content your self whilst you bee heere, vntill I haue prouided what is best for you to doe, for before you part from hence, I will giue you sutch consolation and remedy for your afflictions, as you shall remaine satysfied and contented.” And resolued vppon thys good minde, he speedily wente out of the Churche vnto his chamber, where he began to consider of many things, his conscience beyng moued to hinder the marriage betwene the Counte Paris and hir, knowing by his meanes she had espoused an other, and callynge to remembraunce what a daungerous enterprise he had begonne by committyng hymself to the mercy of a symple damosell, and that if shee fayled to bee wyse and secrete, all theyr doyngs should be discried, he defamed, and Rhomeo hir spouse punished. Hee then after he had well debated vpon infinite numbre of deuises, was in the end ouercome with pity, and determined rather to hazarde his honour, than to suffer the Adultery of the Counte Paris with Iulietta: and being determined herevpon, opened his closet, and takynge a vyall in his Hande, retourned agayne to Iulietta, whom he found lyke one that was in a Traunce, wayghtinge for newes, eyther of Lyfe or Death: of whome the good olde Father demaunded vpon what Day hir maryage was appoynted. “The firste daye of that appoyntment (quod shee) is vppon Wednesdaye, whych is the Daye ordeyned for my Consente of Maryage accorded betweene my father and Counte Paris, but the Nuptiall solemnitye is not before the X. day of September.” “Wel then” (quod the religious father) “be of good cheere daughter, for our Lord God hathe opened a way vnto me both to deliuer you and Rhomeo from the prepared thraldom. I haue knowne your husband from his cradle, and hee hath daily committed vnto me the greatest secretes of hys Conscience, and I haue so dearely loued him agayne, as if hee had ben mine owne sonne: wherefore my heart can not abide that anye man should do him wrong in that specially wherein my Counsell may stande him in stede. And forsomutch as you are his wyfe, I ought lykewyse to loue you, and seke meanes to delyuer you from the martyrdome and Anguish wherewyth I see your heart besieged: vnderstande then (good Daughter) of a secrete which I purpose to manifest vnto you, and take heede aboue all thinges that you declare it to no liuing creature, for therein consisteth your life and Death. Ye be not ignorant by the common report of the Cityzens of this City, and by the same published of me, that I haue trauailed throughe all the Prouinces of the habytable Earthe, wherby duryng the continuall tyme of XX. yeres, I haue soughte no rest for my wearied body, but rather haue many times protruded the same to the mercy of brute beasts in the Wyldernesse, and many times also to the mercilesse Waues of the Seas, and to the pity of common Pirates together with a thousand other Daungers and shipwracks vppon Sea and Land. So it is good Daughter that all my wandring Voyages haue not bene altogethers vnprofitable. For besides the incredible contentation receiued ordinarily in mind, I haue gathered some particular fruyct, whereof by the grace of God you shall shortly feele some experience. I haue proued the secrete properties of Stones, of Plants, Metals, and other thinges hydden within the Bowels of the Earth, wherewith I am able to helpe my selfe againste the common Lawe of Men, when necessity doth serue: specyally in thynges wherein I know mine eternal God to be least offended. For as thou knowest I beynge approched as it were, euen to the Brymme of my Graue, and that the Tyme draweth neare for yeldynge of myne Accompte before the Audytor of all Audytors, I oughte therefore to haue some deepe knowledge and apprehension of God’s iudgement more than I had when the heat of inconsidered youth did boyle within my lusty body. Know you therefore good daughter, that with those graces, and fauours which the heauens prodigally haue bestowed vpon me, I haue learned and proued of long time the composition of a certayne Paaste, which I make of diuers soporiferous simples, which beaten afterwards to Pouder, and dronke wyth a quantyty of Water, within a quarter of an houre after, bringeth the receiuer into sutch a sleepe, and burieth so deepely the senses and other sprites of life, that the cunningest Phisitian will iudge the party dead: and besides that it hath a more marueillous effect, for the person which vseth the same feeleth no kinde of griefe, and according to the quantity of the dough, the pacient remayneth in a sweete sleepe, but when the operation is wrought and done, hee returneth into his first estate. Now then Iulietta receiue myne instruction, put of all Feminine affection by taking vppon you a manly stomacke for by the only courage of your minde consisteth the hap or mishap of your affayres. Beholde here I geue you a Vyale which you shall keepe as your owne propre heart, and the night before your mariage, or in the morninge before day, you shall fil the same vp with water, and drink so mutch as is contayned therein. And then you shall feele a certayne kynde of pleasaunt sleepe, which incrochinge by litle and litle all the partes of your body, wil constrayne them in sutch wyse, as vnmoueable they shal remayne: and by not doing their accustomed dueties, shall loose their naturall feelinges, and you abide in sutch extasie the space of 40 houres at the least, without any beating of poulse or other perceptible motion, which shall so astonne them that come to see you, as they will iudge you to be deade, and according to the custome of our Citty, you shal be caried to the Churchyarde hard by our Church, where you shall be intoumbed in the common monument of the Capellets your auncestors, and in the meane tyme we will send word to lord Rhomeo by a speciall messanger of the effect of our deuice, who now abideth at Mantua. And the night following I am sure he will not fayle to be heere, then he and I together will open the graue, and lift vp your body, and after the operation of the Pouder is past, hee shall conuey you secretly to Mantua, vnknowen to all your Parents and frends. Afterwards (it may be) Tyme, the mother of Truth, shall cause concord betwene the offended City of Verona, and Rhomeo. At which time your common cause may be made open to the general contentacion of all your frends.” The words of the good father ended, new ioy surprised the heart of Iulietta, who was so attentiue to his talke as she forgat no one poynct of hir lesson. Then she sayd vnto him: “Father, doubt not at all that my heart shall fayle in performaunce of your commaundement: for were it the strongest Poyson, or most pestiferous Venome, rather would I thrust it into my body, than to consent to fall in the hands of him, whom I vtterly mislike: with a right strong reason then may I fortifie my selfe, and offer my body to any kinde of mortall daunger to approch and draw neare to him, vpon whom wholly dependeth my Life and all the solace I haue in this World.” “Go your wayes then my daughter” (quod the Frier) “the mighty hand of God keepe you, and hys surpassing power defende you, and confirme that will and good mynde of yours, for the accomplishment of this worke.” Iulietta departed from frier Laurence, and returned home to hir father’s Pallace about II. of the clock, where she found hir mother at the Gate attending for hir: And in good deuotion demaunded if shee continued still in hir former follies? But Iulietta with more gladsome cheere than she was wont to vse, not suffering hir mother to aske agayne, sayd vnto hir: “Madame I come from S. Frauncis Church, where I haue taried longer peraduenture than my duety requireth: how be it not without fruict and great rest to my afflicted conscience, by reason of the godly persuasions of our ghostly Father Frier Laurence, vnto whom I haue made a large declaration of my life. And chiefly haue communicated vnto him in confession, that which hath past betwene my Lord my father and you, vpon the mariage of Countee Paris and me. But the good man hath reconciled me by his holy words, and commendable exhortations, that where I had minde neuer to mary, now I am well disposed to obey your pleasure and commaundement. Wherfore, madame, I beseech you to recouer the fauor and good wyl of my father, aske pardon in my behalfe, and say vnto him (if it please you) that by obeying his Fatherly request, I am ready to meete the Countee Paris at Villafranco, and there in your presence to accept him for my Lorde and husband: In assuraunce whereof, by your pacience, I meane to repayre into my Closet, to make choise of my most pretious Iewels, that I being richly adorned, and decked, may appeare before him more agreeable to his mynde, and pleasure.” The good mother rapt with exceeding great ioy, was not able to aunswere a word, but rather made speede to seeke out hir husband the Lord Antonio, vnto whom she reported the good will of hir daughter, and how by meanes of Frier Laurence hir minde was chaunged. Whereof the good olde man maruellous ioyfull, praysed God in heart, saying: “Wife this is not the firste good turne which we haue receiued of that holy man, vnto whom euery Cittizen of this Common wealth is dearely bounde. I would to God that I had redeemed 20 of his yeares with the third parte of my goods, so grieuous is to me his extreme old age.” The selfe same houre the Lord Antonio went to seeke the Countee Paris, whom hee thought to perswade to goe to Villafranco. But the countee told him agayne, that the charge would be to great, and that better it were to reserue that cost to the mariage day, for the better celebration of the same. Notwithstanding if it were his pleasure, he would himselfe goe visite Iulietta: and so they went together. The Mother aduertised of his comming, caused hir daughter to make hir selfe ready, and to spare no costly Iewels for adorning of hir beauty agaynst the Countee’s comming, which she bestowed so well for garnishing of hir Personage, that before the Countee parted from the house, shee had so stolne away his heart, as he liued not from that time forth, but vpon meditation of hir beauty, and slacked no time for acceleration of the mariage day, ceasing not to be importunate vpon father and mother for th’ende and consummation thereof. And thus with ioy inough passed forth this day and many others vntil the day before the mariage, against which time the mother of Iulietta did so well prouide, that there wanted nothing to set forth the magnificence and nobility of their house. Villafranco whereof we haue made mention, was a place of pleasure, where the Lord Antonio was wont many tymes to recreate himselfe a mile or two from Verona, there the dynner was prepared, for so mutch as the ordinary solemnity of necessity muste be done at Verona. Iulietta perceyuing hir time to approache dyssembled the matter so well as shee coulde: and when tyme forced hir to retire to hir Chamber, hir Woman would have waited vppon hir, and haue lyen in hir Chambre, as hir custome was: but Iulietta sayd vnto hir: “Good and faithfull mother, you know that to morrow is my maryage Day, and for that I would spend the most parte of the Nyght in prayer, I pray you for this time to let me alone, and to morrow in the Mornyng about VI. of the clocke come to me agayne to helpe make mee readie.” The good olde woman willing to follow hir minde, suffred hir alone, and doubted nothyng of that which she did meane to do. Iulietta beinge within hir Chambre hauing an eawer ful of Water standing vppon the Table filled the viole which the Frier gaue her: and after she had made the mixture, she set it by hir bed side, and went to Bed. And being layde, new thoughtes began to assaile hir, with a conceipt of grieuous Death, which brought hir into sutch case as she could not tell what to doe, but playning incessantly sayd: “Am not I the most vnhappy and desperat creature, that euer was borne of Woman? For mee there is nothyng left in this wretched worlde but mishap, misery, and mortall woe, my distresse hath brought me to sutch extremity, as to saue mine honor and conscience, I am forced to deuoure the drynke whereof I know not the vertue: but what know I (sayd she) whether the Operatyon of thys Pouder will be to soone or to late, or not correspondent to the due tyme, and that my fault being discouered, I shall remayne a Fable to the People? What know I moreouer, if the Serpents and other venomous and crauling Wormes, whych commonly frequent the Graues and pittes of the Earth wyll hurt me, thynkyng that I am deade. But howe shall I indure the stynche of so many carions and Bones of myne auncestors whych rest in the Graue, yf by fortune I do awake before Rhomeo and Fryer Laurence doe come to help mee?” And as shee was thus plunged in the deepe contemplatyon of thynges, she thought that she saw a certayn vision or fansie of hir Cousin Thibault, in the very same sort as shee sawe him wounded and imbrued wyth Bloud, and musing how that she must be buried quick amongs so many dead Carcases and deadly naked bones, hir tender and delycate body began to shake and tremble, and hir yelowe lockes to stare for feare, in sutch wyse as fryghtned with terroure, a cold sweate beganne to pierce hir heart and bedewe the reste of al hir membres, in sutch wise as she thought that an hundred thousand Deathes did stande about hir, haling hir on euery side, and plucking hir in pieces, and feelyng that hir forces diminyshed by lyttle and lyttle, fearing that through to great debilyty she was not able to do hir enterpryse, like a furious and insensate Woman, with out further care, gulped vp the Water wythin the Voyal, then crossing hir armes vpon hir stomacke, she lost at that instante all the powers of hir Body, restyng in a Traunce. And when the morning lyght began to thrust his head out of his Oryent, hir Chaumber Woman which had lockte hir in with the Key, did open the doore, and thynkyng to awake hir, called hir many tymes, and sayd vnto hir: “Mistresse, you sleepe to long, the Counte Paris will come to raise you.” The poore olde Woman spake vnto the wall, and sange a song vnto the deafe. For if all the horrible and tempestuous soundes of the world had bene cannoned forth out of the greatest bombardes and sounded through hir delycate Eares, hir spyrites of Lyfe were so fast bounde and stopt, as she by no meanes coulde awake, wherewith the pore olde Woman amazed, began to shake hir by the armes and Handes, whych she found so colde as marble stone. Then puttyng Hande vnto hir Mouthe, sodainely perceyued that she was dead, for shee perceyued no breath in hir. Wherefore lyke a Woman out of hir Wyttes, shee ranne to tell hir mother, who so madde as a Tigre, berefte of hir Faunes hied hir selfe into hir Daughter’s Chaumber, and in that pitiful state beholdynge hir Daughter, thinkyng hir to be deade, cried out: “Ah cruell Death, which hast ended all my ioye and Blysse, vse the last scourge of thy wrathfull ire agaynst me, least by sufferyng mee to liue the rest of my woefull Dayes, my Torment doe increase.” Then she began to fetch sutch strayning sighes, as hir heart did seeme to cleaue in pieces. And as hir cries began to encrease, behold the Father, the County Paris, and a great troupe of Gentlemen and Ladies, which were come to honour the feaste, hearing no sooner tell of that which chaunced, were stroke into sutch sorrowfull dumpes as he which had beheld their Faces would easily haue iudged that the same had ben a day of ire and pity, specially the Lord Antonio, whose heart was frapped with sutch surpassing woe, as neither teare nor word could issue forth, and knowing not what to doe, straight way sent to seeke the most expert Phisitians of the towne, who after they had inquired of the life past of Iulietta, deemed by common reporte, that melancoly was the cause of that sodayne death, and then their sorows began to renue a fresh. And if euer day was Lamentable, Piteous, Vnhappy, and Fatall, truly it was that wherein Iulietta hir death was published in Verona: for shee was so bewayled of great and small, that by the common playnts, the Common wealth seemed to be in daunger, and not without cause: for besides hir naturall beauty (accompanied with many vertues wherewith nature had enriched hir) she was else so humble, wise, and debonaire, as for that humility and curtesie she had stollen away the hearts of euery wight, and there was none but did lament hir Misfortune. And whilest these thinges were in this lamented state, Frier Laurence with diligence dispatched a Frier of his Couent, named Frier Anselme, whom he trusted as himselfe, and deliuered him a Letter written with hys owne hande, commaunding him expressely not to giue the same to any other but to Rhomeo, wherein was conteyned the chaunce which had passed betwene him and Iulietta, specially the vertue of the Pouder, and commaunded him the nexte ensuinge Nighte to speede himselfe to Verona, for that the operation of the Pouder that time would take ende, and that he should cary wyth him back agayne to Mantua his beloued Iulietta, in dissembled apparell, vntill Fortune had otherwise prouided for them. The frier made sutch hast as (too late) hee arriued at Mantua, within a while after. And bicause the maner of Italy is, that the Frier trauayling abroade ought to take a companion of his couent to doe his affaires wythin the City, the Fryer went into his couent, and for that he was within, it was not lawfull for him to come oute againe that Day, bicause that certain dayes before, one relygious of that couent as it was sayd, dyd dye of the plague: wherefore the Magistrates appoynted for the health and visitation of the sick, commaunded the Warden of the House that no Friers should wander abrode the city, or talke with any Citizen, vntil they were licensed by the officers in that behalfe appoynted, which was the cause of the great mishap which you shal heare hereafter. The Friar being in this perplexitye, not able to goe forth, and not knowyng what was contayned in the Letter, deferred hys Jorney for that Day. Whilst things were in thys plyght, preparation was made at Verona, to doe the obsequies of Iulietta. There is a custome also (which is common in Italy,) to laye all the best of one lignage and Familye in one Tombe, wherevppon Iulietta was intoumbed, in the ordinary Graue of the Capellettes, in a Churcheyarde, hard by the Churche of the Fryers, where also the Lord Thibault was interred, whose Obsequies honorably done, euery man returned: whereunto Pietro, the seruaunt of Rhomeo, gaue hys assystance: for as we haue before declared, hys mayster sente hym backe agayne from Mantua to Verona, to do his father seruice, and to aduertise him of that which should chaunce in his absence there: who seeyng the Body of Iulietta, inclosed in Toumbe, thinkyng with the reste that shee had bene dead in deede, incontinently tooke poste horse, and with dylygence rode to Mantua, where he founde his Mayster in his wonted house, to whom he sayde, wyth hys Eyes full of Teares: “Syr, there is chaunced vnto you so straunge a matter as if so be you do not arme your selfe with Constancye, I am afrayed that I shall be the cruell minyster of your Death: be it known vnto you sir, that yesterday morning my mistresse Iulietta left hir Lyfe in thys Worlde to seeke rest in an other: and wyth these Eyes I saw her buryed in the Churchyarde of S. Frauncis.” At the sounde of whych heauye message, Rhomeo begann woefullye to Lamente, as though hys spyrites gryeued wyth the Tormente of his Passion at that instant would haue abandoned his Bodye. But stronge Loue which woulde not permytte him to faynt vntyl the extremity, framed a thoughte in hys fantesie, that if it were possyble for him to dye besides hir his Death should be more gloryous, and shee (as he thought) better contented: by reason whereof, after he had washed his face for feare to discouer his sorrowe, hee wente out of his Chamber, and commaunded hys man to tarry behynd him, that he myght walke through out all the Corners of the Citye, to finde propre remedye (if it were possyble) for hys gryefe. And amonges others, beholdynge an Apoticarye’s shop of lyttle furnyture and lesse store of Boxes and other thinges requisite for that scyence, thought that the verye pouerty of the mayster Apothecarye would make hym wyllingle yeld to that which he pretended to demaunde: and after he had taken hym aside, secretly sayde vnto him: “Syr, if you be the Mayster of the House, as I thynk you be, beholde here Fifty Ducates, whych I gyue you to the intent you delyuer me some strong and vyolente Poyson that within a quarter of an houre is able to procure Death vnto hym that shall vse it.” The couetous Apothecarye entysed by gayne, agreed to his request, and faynying to gyue hym some other medycine before the People’s Face, he speedily made ready a strong and cruell Poyson, afterwardes he sayd unto him softly: “Syr, I guye you more than is needefull, for the one halfe is able to destroy the strongest manne of the world:” who after he hadde receyued the poyfon, retourned home, where he commaunded his man to departe with diligence to Verona, and that he should make prouision of candels, a tynder Boxe, and other Instrumentes meete for the opening of the graue of Iulietta, and that aboue all things hee shoulde not fayle to attende his commynge besides the Churchyarde of S. Frauncis, and vppon Payne of Life to keepe hys intente in silence. Which Pietro obeied in order as hys maister had requyred, and made therin sutch expedityon, as he arriued in good time to Verona, taking order for al things that wer commaunded him. Rhomeo in the meane while being solycyted wyth mortall thoughtes caused incke and paper to be broughte vnto hym, and in few words put in wryting all the discourse of his loue, the mariage of him and Iulietta, the meane obserued for consummation of the same, the helpe that he had of Frier Laurence, the buying of his Poyson, and last of all his death. Afterwardes hauing finished his heauy tragedy, hee closed the letters, and sealed the same with his seale, and directed the Superscription thereof to hys Father: and puttyng the letters into his pursse, he mounted on horsebacke, and vsed sutch dylygence, as he arriued vppon darke Nyght at the Citye of Verona, before the gates were shut, where he founde his seruaunte tarying for him with a Lanterne and instrumentes as is before sayd, meete for the opening of the graue, vnto whome hee said: “Pietro, helpe mee to open this Tombe, and so soone as it is open I commaunde thee vppon payne of thy life, not to come neere mee, nor to stay me from the thing I purpose to doe. Beholde, there is a letter which thou shalt present to morrow in the mornyng to my Father at his vprysing, which peraduenture shall please him better than thou thinkest.” Pietro, not able to imagine what was his maister’s intent, stode somewhat aloofe to beholde his maister’s gestes and Countenance. And when they had opened the Vaulte, Rhomeo descended downe two steppes, holdyng the candel in his hand and began to behold wyth pityfull Eye, the body of hir, which was the organ of his Eyes, and kyst it tenderly, holdyng it harde betwen his armes, and not able to satisfie him selfe with hir sight, put hys fearefull handes vppon the colde stomacke of Iulietta. And after he had touched hir in many places, and not able to feele anye certayne Iudgemente of Lyfe, he drewe the Poyson out of hys boxe, and swallowyng downe a great quantytye of the same, cryed out: “O Iulietta, of whome the Worlde was vnworthye, what Death is it possyble my Hearte coulde choose oute more agreeable than that whych yt suffereth harde by thee? what Graue more Gloryous, than to bee buried in thy Toumbe? what more woorthy or excellent Epytaphe can bee vowed for Memorye, than the mutuall and pytyfull Sacryfice of our lyues?” And thinkinge to renue his sorrowe, his hearte began to frette through the vyolence of the Poyson, whiche by lyttle and lyttle assailed the same, and lookyng about hym, espied the Bodye of the Lorde Thibault, lying nexte vnto Iulietta, whych as yet was not al together putrified, and speakyng to the bodye as though it hadde bene alyue, sayde: “In what place so euer thou arte (O Cousyn Thibault) I most heartely do crye the mercye for the offence whych I haue done by depryuing of thy Lyfe: and yf thy Ghost doe wyshe and crye out for Vengeaunce vppon mee, what greater or more cruell satysfaction canste thou desyre to haue, or henceforth hope for, than to see him whych murdered thee, to bee empoysoned with his owne handes, and buryed by thy side?” Then endynge hys talke, felyng by lyttle and lyttle that his lyfe began to fayle, falling prostrate vppon his knees, wyth feeble voyce hee softely sayd: “O my Lord God, which to redeeme me didest discend from the bosom of thy Father, and tookest humane fleshe in the Wombe of the Vyrgine, I acknowledge and confesse, that this body of myne is nothing else but Earth and Dust.” Then seazed vppon wyth desperate sorrow, he fell downe vppon the Body of Iulietta with sutch vehemence, as the heart faint and attenuated with too great torments, not able to beare so hard a vyolence, was abandoned of all his sense and Naturall powers, in sutch sorte as the siege of hys soule fayled him at that instant, and his members stretched forthe, remayned stiffe and colde. Fryer Laurence whych knew the certayne tyme of the pouder’s operation, maruelled that he had no answere of the Letter which he sent to Rhomeo by his fellowe Fryer Anselme, departed from S. Frauncis and with Instruments for the purpose, determined to open the Graue to let in aire to Iulietta, whych was ready to wake: and approchyng the place, hee espied a lyght within, which made him afraide vntyll that Pietro whych was hard by, had certyfied hym that Rhomeo was with in, and had not ceased there to Lamente and Complayne the space of halfe an Houre: and when they two were entred the Graue and finding Rhomeo without Lyfe, made sutch sorrowe as they can well coneyue whych Loue their deare Fryende wyth lyke perfection. And as they were making theyr complaints, Iulietta rising out of hir traunce, and beholding light within the Toumbe, vncertayne wheather it were a dreame or fantasie that appeared before his eyes, comming agayne to hir selfe, knew Frier Laurence, vnto whom she said: “Father, I pray thee in the name of God to perfourme thy promise, for I am almost deade.” And then frier Laurence concealing nothing from hir, (bycause he feared to be taken through his too long abode in that place) faithfully rehearsed vnto hir, how he had sent frier Anselme to Rhomeo at Mantua, from whom as yet hee had receiued no aunswere. Notwithstanding he found Rhomeo dead in the graue, whose body he poyncted vnto, lyinge hard by hir, praying hir sith it was so, paciently to beare that sodayne misfortune, and that if it pleased hir, he would conuey hir into some monastery of women where she might in time moderate hir sorrow, and giue rest vnto hir minde. Iulietta had no sooner cast eye vppon the deade corps of Rhomeo, but began to breake the fountayne pipes of gushing teares, which ran forth in sutch aboundance, as not able to support the furor of hir griefe, she breathed without ceasing vpon his mouth, and then throwen hir selfe vppon his body, and embracing it very hard, seemed that by force of sighes and sobs, she would haue reuiued, and brought him againe to life, and after she had kissed and rekissed hym a million of times, she cried out: “Ah the sweete reste of my cares, and the onely port of all my pleasures and pastimes, hadst thou so sure a hearte to choose thy Churchyarde in this place betwene the armes of thy perfect Louer, and to ende the course of thy life for my sake in the floure of thy Youth when lyfe to thee should have bene most deare and delectable? how had this tender body power to resist the furious Coumbat of death, very death it selfe here present? how coulde thy tender and delicate youth willingly permit that thou shouldest approch into this filthy and infected place, where from henceforth thou shalt be the pasture of Worms vnworthy of thee? Alas, alas, by what meanes shall I now renue my playnts, which time and long pacience ought to haue buried and clearely quenched? Ah I, miserable and Caitife wretch, thinking to finde remedy for my griefs, haue sharpned the Knife that hath gieuen me this cruell blow, whereof I receiue the cause of mortall wound. Ah, happy and fortunate graue which shalt serue in world to come for witnesse of the most perfect aliaunce that euer was betwene two most infortunate louers, receyue now the last sobbing sighes, and intertayment of the most cruell of all the cruell subiects of ire and death.” And as she thought to continue hir complaynts, Pietro aduertised Frier Laurence that he heard a noyse besides the citadell, wherewyth being afrayd, they speadily departed, fearing to be taken: and then Iulietta seeing hir selfe alone, and in full Liberty, tooke agayne Rhomeo betweene hir armes, kissing him with sutch affection, as she seemed to be more attaynted with loue than death, and drawing out the Dagger which Rhomeo ware by his side, she pricked hir selfe with many blowes against the heart, sayinge with feeble and pitiful voice: “Ah death the end of sorrow, and beginning of felicity, thou art most hartely welcome: feare not at this time to sharpen thy dart: giue no longer delay of life, for feare that my sprite trauayle not to finde Rhomeo’s ghost amongs sutch number of carion corpses: and thou my deare Lord and loyall husband Rhomeo, if there rest in thee any knowledge, receyue hir whom thou hast so faythfully loued, the onely cause of thy violent death, which frankely offreth vp hir soule that none but thou shalt ioy the loue whereof thou hast made so lawfull conquest, and that our soules passing from this light, may eternally liue together in the place of euerlasting ioy.” And when she had ended those wordes shee yelded vp hir ghost. While these thinges thus were done, the garde and watch of the Citty by chaunce passed by, and seeing light within the graue, suspected straight that there were some Necromancers which had opened the Toumbe to abuse the deade bodies for ayde of their arte: and desirous to knowe what it ment, went downe into the vaut, where they found Rhomeo and Iulietta, with their armes imbracing ech other’s neck, as though there had bene some token of lyfe. And after they had well viewed them at leysure, they perceyued in what case they were: and then all amazed they sought for the theeues which (as they thought) had done the murther, and in the ende founde the good father Fryer Laurence, and Pietro the seruaunte of deade Rhomeo (whych had hid themselues under a stall) whom they caryed to Pryson, and aduertysed the Lord of Escala, and the magistrates of Verona of that horrible murder, which by and by was published throughoute the City. Then flocked together al the Citizens, women and children leauyng their houses, to loke vppon that pityful sighte, and to the Ende that in presence of the whole Cytie, the murder should be knowne, the Magistrates ordayned that the two deade Bodies should he erected vppon a stage to the view and sight of the whole World, in sutch sorte and manner as they were found withyn the Graue, and that Pietro and frier Laurence should publikely bee examyned, that afterwardes there myght be no murmure or other pretended cause of ignoraunce. And thys good olde Frier beyinge vppon the Scaffold, hauinge a whyte Bearde all wet and bathed with Teares, the Iudges commaunded him to declare vnto them who were the Authors of that Murder, sith at vntimely houre hee was apprehended with certayne Irons besides the Graue. Fryer Laurence, a rounde and franke Man of talke, nothyng moued with that accusation, answered them with stoute and bolde voyce: “My maisters, there is none of you all (if you haue respect vnto my forepassed Life, and to my aged Yeres, and therewithall haue consideration of this heauy spectacle, whereunto vnhappy fortune hathe presently brought me) but doeth greatly maruell of so sodaine mutation and change vnlooked for so mutch as these three score and Ten or twelue Yeares sithens I came into this Worlde, and began to proue the vanities thereof, I was neuer suspected, touched, or found guilty of any crime which was able to make me blushe, or hide my face, although (before God) I doe confesse my self to be the greatest and most abhominable sinner of al the redeemed flocke of Christ. So it is notwythstanding, that sith I am prest and ready to render mine accompte, and that Death, the Graue and wormes do dailye summon this wretched corps of myne to appeare before the Iustyce seate of God, still wayghtyng and attending to be carried to my hoped graue, this is the houre I say, as you likewise may thinke wherein I am fallen to the greatest damage and preiudice of my Lyfe and honest porte, and that which hath ingendred thys synyster opynyon of mee, may peraduenture bee these greate Teares which in abundaunce tryckle downe my Face as though the holy scriptures do not witnesse, that Jesus Christ moued with humayne pitty, and compassion, did weepe, and poure forth teares, and that many times teares be the faythfull messengers of a man’s innocency. Or else the most likely euidence, and presumption, is the suspected hour, which (as the magistrate doth say) doth make mee culpable of the murder, as though all houres were not indifferently made equall by God their Creator, who in his owne person declareth vnto vs that there be twelue houres in the Day, shewing thereby that there is no exception of houres nor of minutes, but that one may doe eyther good or ill at all times indifferently, as the party is guided or forsaken by the sprite of God: touching the Irons which were founde about me, needefull it is not now to let you vnderstand for what vse Iron was first made, and that of it selfe it is not able to increase in man eyther good or euill, if not by the mischieuous minde of hym which doth abuse it. Thus mutch I haue thought good to tell you, to the intent that neyther teares nor Iron, ne yet suspected houre, are able to make me guilty of the murder, or make me otherwyse than I am, but only the witnesse of mine owne conscience, which alone if I were guilty should be the accuser, the witnesse, and the hangman, whych, by reason of mine age and the reputation I haue had amonges you, and the little time that I haue to liue in this World shoulde more torment me within, than all the mortall paynes that could be deuised: but (thankes be to myne eternall God) I feele no worme that gnaweth, nor any remorse that pricketh me touching that fact, for which I see you all troubled and amazed: and to set your harts at rest, and to remoue the doubts which hereafter may torment your consciences, I sweare vnto you by all the heauenly parts wherein I hope to be, that forthwith I will disclose from first to last the entire discourse of this pitifull tragedy, whych peraduenture shall driue you into no lesse wondre and amaze, than those two poore passionate Louers were strong and pacient, to expone themselues to the mercy of death, for the feruent and indissoluble loue betwene then.” Then the Fatherly Frier began to repeate the beginning of the loue betwene Iulietta, and Rhomeo, which by certayne space of time confirmed, was prosecuted by wordes at the first, then by mutual promise of mariage, vnknown to the world. And as within few dayes after, the two Louers feelinge themselues sharpned and incited with stronger onset, repaired vnto him vnder colour of confession, protesting by othe that they were both maried, and that if he woulde not solempnize that mariage in the face of the Church, they should be constrayned to offend God to liue in disordred lust: in consideration whereof, and specially seeing their alliaunce to be good, and comfortable in dignity, richesse and Nobility on both sides, hoping by that meanes perchaunce to reconcile the Montesches, and Capellets, and that by doing sutch an acceptable worke to God, he gaue them the Churches blessingin a certayne Chappel of the friers church whereof the night following they did consummate the mariage fruicts in the Pallace of the Capellets. For testimony of which copulation, the woman of Iuliettae’s Chamber was able to depose: Adding moreouer, the murder of Thibault, which was Cousin to Iulietta: by reason whereof the banishment of Rhomeo did followe, and howe in the absence of the sayd Rhomeo, the mariage being kept secret betwene them, a new Matrimony was intreated wyth the Countee Paris, which misliked by Iulietta, she fell prostrate at his feete in a Chappell of S. Frauncis church, with full determination to haue killed hirself with hir owne hands, if he gaue hir not councell how she should auoyde the mariage agreed betwene hir father and the Countee Paris. For conclusion, he sayd, that although he was resolued by reason of his age, and nearenesse of death to abhorre all secrete Sciences, wherein in his younger yeares he had delight, notwithstanding, pressed with importunity, and moued with pitty, fearing least Iulietta should do some cruelty agaynst hirselfe, he strayned his conscience, and chose rather with some little fault to grieue his minde, than to suffer the young gentlewoman to destroy hir body, and hazarde the daunger of hir soule: and therefore he opened some part of his auncient cunning, and gaue her a certayne Pouder to make hir sleepe, by meanes whereof she was thought to be deade. Then he tolde them how he had sent Frier Anselme to cary letters to Rhomeo of their enterprise, whereof hitherto he had no aunswere. Then briefly he concluded how he found Rhomeo dead within the graue, who as it is most likely did impoyson himselfe, or was otherwise smothered or suffocated with sorow by findinge Iulietta in that state, thinking shee had bene dead. Then he tolde them how Iulietta did kill hirselfe with the Dagger of Rhomeo to beare him company after his death, and how it was impossible for them to saue hir for the noyse of the watch which forced theym to flee from thence. And for more ample approbation of his saying, he humbly besought the Lord of Verona and the Magistrats to send to Mantua for Frier Anselme to know the cause of his slack returne, that the content of the letter sent to Rhomeo might be seene: to examine the Woman of the Chamber of Iulietta, and Pietro the seruaunt of Rhomeo, who not attending for further request, sayd vnto them: “My Lordes, when Rhomeo entred the graue, he gaue me this Pacquet, written as I suppose with his owne hand, who gaue me expresse commaundement to deliuer it to his father.” The pacquet opened, they found the whole effect of this story, specially the Apothecarie’s name, which sold him the Poyson, the price, and the cause wherefore he vsed it, and all appeared to be so cleare and euident, as there rested nothing for further verification of the same, but their presence at the doing of the particulers thereof, for the whole was so well declared in order, as they were out of doubt that the same was true: and then the Lord Bartholomew of Escala, after he had debated with the Magistrates of these euents, decreed that the Woman of Iulietta hir chamber should bee banished, because shee did conceale that priuy mariage from the Father of Rhomeo, which if it had beene knowne in tyme, had bred to the whole Citty an vniuersall benefit. Pietro because he obeyed hys mayster’s commaundement, and kept close hys lawfull secrets, according to the well conditioned nature of a trusty seruaunt, was set at liberty. The Poticary taken, rackt, and founde guilty, was hanged. The good olde man Frier Laurence, as well for respect of his auncient seruice which he had done to the common wealth of Verona, as also for his vertuous life (for the which hee was specially recommended) was let goe in peace, without any note of Infamy. Notwithstanding by reason of his age, he voluntarily gaue ouer the World, and closed himselfe in an Hermitage, two miles from Verona, where he liued 5 or 6 yeares, and spent hys tyme in continuall prayer, vntil he was called out of this transitory worlde, into the blisful state of euerlasting ioy. And for the compassion of so straunge an infortune, the Montesches, and Capellets poured forth sutch abundaunce of teares, as with the same they did euacuate their auncient grudge and choler, whereby they were then reconciled: and they which coulde not bee brought to attonement by any wisedome or humayne councell, were in the ende vanquished and made frends by pity: and to immortalizate the memory of so intier and perfect amity, the Lord of Verona ordayned, that the two bodies of those miraculous Louers should be fast intoumbed in the graue where they ended their lyues, in which place was erected a high marble Piller, honoured with an infinite number of excellent Epytaphes, which to this day be apparaunt, with sutch noble memory, as amongs all the rare excellencies, wherewith that City is furnished, there is none more Famous than the Monument of Rhomeo and Iulietta.