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Amid the defert rockes the mountaine beare
Bringes forth unformd, unlyke herfelfe, her yonge,
Nought els but lumpes of fiefhe, withouten heare;
In tract of time, her often lycking tong

Geves them fuch fhape, as doth, ere long, delight
The lookers on; or, when one dogge doth shake
With moofled mouth the joyntes too weake to fight,
Or, when upright he ftandeth by his stake,
(A noble creaft!) or wylde in favage wood
A dofyn dogges one holdeth at a baye,

With gaping mouth and stayned jawes with blood;
Or els, when from the farthest heavens, they
The lode-ftarres are, the wery pilates marke,
In stormes to gyde to haven the toiled barke;-
Right fo my mufe
Hath now, at length, with travell long, brought forth
Her tender whelpes, her divers kindes of ftyle,
Such as they are, or nought, or little woorth,
Which carefull travell and a longer whyle
May better shape. The eldest of them loe
I offer to the ftake; my youthfull woorke,
Which one reprochefull mouth might overthrowe:
The reft, unlickt as yet, a whyle shall lurke,

Tyll Tyme geve ftrength, to meete and match in fight,
With Slaunder's whelpes. Then shall they tell of ftryfe,

Of noble trymphes, and deedes of martial might;

And shall geve rules of chaft and honeft lyfe.

The whyle, I pray, that ye with favour blame,
Or rather not reprove the laughing game

Of this my mufe.

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Love hath inflamed twayne by fodayn fight,
And both do graunt the thing that both defyre;

They wed in thrift, by counfell of a frier;

Yong Romeus clymes fayre Juliets bower by night.
Three monthes he doth enjoy his cheefe delight:
By Tybalt's rage provoked unto yre,

He payeth death to Tybalt for his hyre.

A banisht man, he fcapes by fecret flight:

New mariage is offred to his wyfe;

She drinkes a drinke that feemes to reve her breath;

They bury her, that sleping yet hath lyfe.
Her husband heares the tydinges of her death;

He drinkes his bane; and the, with Romeus' knyfe,"
When the awakes, her felfe, alas! the fleath.

ROME

HERE is beyond the Alps a towne of ancient fame,

T Where bright renoune yet fhineth cleare, Verona men it name;

Bylt in an happy time, bylt on a fertyle foyle,

Maynteined by the heavenly fates, and by the townish toyle.

The

In the preliminary note on Romeo and Juliet I observed that it was founded on the Tragicall Hyftery of Romeus and Juliet, printed in 1562. That piece being almoft as rare as a manufcript, I reprinted it a few years ago, and fhall give it a place here as a proper fupplement to the commentaries on this tragedy.

From the following lines in An Epitaph on the death of Maifter Arthur Brooke drownde in paffing to New-Haven, by George Tuberville, [Epitaphes, Epigrammes, &c. 1567,] we learn that the former was the authour of this poem:

"Apollo lent him lute, for folace fake,

"To found his verfe by touch of ftately string,
<< And of the never-fading baye did make
"A lawrell crowne, about his browes to cling.
"In proufe that he for myter did excell,

"As may be judge by Julyet and ber mate;
"For there he fhewde his cunning paffing well,
"When he the tale to English did tranflate.
But what? as he to forraigne realm was bound,
"With others moe his foveraigne queene to ferve,
"Amid the feas unluckie youth was drownd,

"More speedie death than fuch one did deserve."

The original relater of this story was Luigi da Porto, a gentleman of Vicenza, who died in 1529. His novel did not appear till fome years after his death; being first printed at Venice, in octavo, in 1535, under the title of La Giulietta. In an epiftle prefixed to this work, which is addrefled Alla belliffima e leggiadra Madonna Lucina Savorgnana, the authour gives the following account (probably a fictitious one) of the manner in which he became acquainted with this story:

"As you yourself have seen, when heaven had not as yet levelled against me its whole wrath, in the fair fpring of my youth I devoted myself to the profeffion of arms, and, following therein many brave and valiant men, for fome years I ferved in your delightful country, Frioli, through every part of which, in the courfe of my private fervice, it was my duty to roam. I was ever accuftomed, when upon any expedition on horseback, to bring with me an archer of mine, whofe name was Peregrino, a man about fifty years old, well prac tifed in the military art, a pleasant companion, and, like almost all his countrymen of Verona, a great talker. This man was not only H h 4

a brave

The fruitefull hilles above, the pleasant vales belowe,
The filver ftreame with chanel depe, that through the towne
The ftore of fpringes that ferve for ufe, and eke for ease,
And other moe commodities, which profit may and please ;
Eke many certayne fignes of thinges betyde of olde,

To fyll the houngry eyes of those that curiously beholde ;
Doe make this towne to be preferde above the reft
OfLombard townes, or, at the leaft, compared with the best.
In which whyle Efcalus as prince alone did raygne,

To reache rewarde unto the good, to paye the lewde with pay!
Alas! I rewe to thinke, an heavy happe befell,

Which Boccace fkant, not my rude tonge, were able foorth to Within my trembling hande my penne doth shake for teare, And, on my colde amazed head, upright doth ftand my heare

a brave and experienced foldier, but of a gay and lively di and, more perhaps than became his age, was for ever in love lity which gave a double value to his valour. Hence it wa delighted in relating the moft amufing novels, especially fuch of love, and this he did with more grace and with better arra than any I have ever heard. It therefore chanced that, from Gradifca, where I was quartered, and, with this ar two other of my fervants, travelling, perhaps impell'd by love, Udino, which route was then extremely folitary, and entire. and burned up by the war,-wholly abforbed in thought, and a diftance from the others, this Peregrino drawing near me, as gueffed my thoughts, thus addreffed me: "Will you then for this melancholy life, becaufe a cruel and difdainful fair or not love you? though I now speak against myself, yet, fi vice is easier to give than to follow, I must tell you, mafter o that, befides its being difgraceful in a man of your profeffion to long in the chains of love, almost all the ends to which he cond are fo replete with mifery, that it is dangerous to follow him. testimony of what I fay, if it so please you, I could relate a tran that happened in my native city, the recounting of which will the way lefs folitary and lefs difagreeable to us; and in this you would perceive how two noble lovers were conducted to a mi and piteous death.-And now, upon my making him a fign willingness to liften, he thus began."

The phrafe, in the beginning of this paffage, when heaven as yet levelled against me its whole wrath, will be beft explain fome account of the authour, extracted from Crefcimbeni, Iftori Volgar Poefia, T. v. p. 91: Luigi da Porto, a Vicentine, w his youth, on account of his valour, made a leader in the Ve army; but, fighting against the Germans in Friuli, was fo w ed, that he remained for a time wholly difabled, and afterwards and weak during his life; on which account, quitting the proz of arms, he betook himfelf to letters," &c. MALONE.

But fith shee doeth commaunde, whose heft I must obeye,
In moorning verse a woful chaunce to tell I will assaye.
Helpe, learned Pallas, helpe, ye Mufes with your art,
Help, all ye damned feends, to tell of joyes retournd to smarts
Help eke, ye fifters three, my skilleffe peh tindyte,

For you it caufd, which I alas! unable am to wryte.

There were two auncient stocks, which Fortune hygh did place
Above the reft, indewd with welth, and nobler of their race;
Lord of the common forte, lovd of the prince alike,

And lyke unhappy were they both, when Fortune lift to ftryke;
Whofe prayle with equal blaft Fame in her trumpet blew ;
The one was clyped Capelet, and thother Mountague.

A wonted ufe it is, that men of likely forte,

(I wot not by what furye forsd) envye eache others porte.
So thefe, whofe egall ftate bred envye pale of hew,

And then of grudging envies roote blacke hate and rancor grew;
As of a littel fparke oft ryfeth mighty fyre,

So, of a kyndled fparke of grudge, in flames flafh oute their eyre:
And then theyr deadly foode, first hatchd of trifling stryfe,
Did bathe in bloud of Imarting woundes,-it reved breth and lyfe.
No legend lye I tell; fcarce yet theyr eyes be drye,

That did behold the grifly fight with wet and weeping eye.
But when the prudent prince who there the scepter helde,
So great a new diforder in his commonweale behelde,

By jentyl meane he fought their choler to affwage,

And by perfwafion to appease their blameful furious rage;
But both his woords and tyme the prince hath spent in vayne,
So rooted was the inward hate, he loft his buyfy payne.

When frendly fage advise ne gentyll woords avayle,

By thondring threats and princely powre their courage gan he quayle; In hope that when he had the wafting flame fuppreft,

In time he should quyte quench the sparke that boornd within their brest. Now whylft thefe kyndreds do remayne in this eftate,

And eche with outward frendly fhew doth hyde his inward hate,

One Romeus, who was of race a Mountague,

Upon whofe tender chyn as yet no manlyke beard there grewe,
Whofe beauty and whose shape so farre the rest dyd stayne,
That from the cheef of Veron youth he greatest fame dyd gayne,
Hath found a mayde fo fayre (he founde fo foul his happe)

Whofe beauty, fhape, and comely grace, did fo his heart entrappe
That from his owne affayres his thought he did remove;
Onely he fought to honor her, to ferve her and to love.

To her he writeth oft, oft meflengers are fent,

At length, in hope of better fpede, himselfe the lover went;
Prefent to pleade for grace, which absent was not founde,
And to discover to her eye his new receaved wounde.
But the that from her youth was foftred evermore

With vertues foode, and taught in fchole of wifdomes skilfull lore,

By

By aunfwere did cutte off thaffections of his love,

That he no more occafion had fo vayne a fute to move:
So fterne the was of chere, (for all the payne he tooke)
That, in reward of toyle, he would not geve a frendly looke ;
And yet how much she did with conftant mind retyre,"

So much the more his fervent minde was prickt fourth by defyre,
But when he, many monthes, hopeless of his recure,

Had ferved her, who forced not what paynes he did endure,
At length he thought to leave Verona, and to prove

If chaunge of place might chaunge away his ill-bestowed love;
And speaking to himfelfe, thus gan he make his mone:
"What booteth me to love and ferve a fell unthankfull one,
Sith that my humble fute, and labour fowde in vayne,

Can reape none other fruite at all but fcorne and proude difdayne?
What way the feekes to goe, the fame I feeke to runne,

But the the path wherein I treade with spedy flight doth shunne.
I cannot live except that nere to her I be;

She is ay beft content when the is farthest of from me.
Wherefore henceforth I will farre from her take my flight;
Perhaps, mine eye once banished by abfence from her fight,
This tyre of myne, that by her pleasant eyne is fed,
Shall little and little weare away, and quite at laft be ded."
But whileft he did decree this purpose still to kepe,
A contrary repugnant thought fanke in his breft fo depe,
That douteful is he now which of the twayne is best.

In fyghs, in teares, in plainte, in care, in forrow and unreft,
He mones the daye, he wakes the long and werey night;

So depe hath love, with pearcing hand, ygravd her bewty bright
Within his breft, and hath so maftred quyte his hart,

That he of force must yelde as thrall ;-no way is left to start.
He cannot ftaye his steppe, but forth ftyll must he ronne,
He languisheth and melts awaye, as fnowe agaynft the fonne,
His kyndred and alyes do wonder what he ayles,

And eche of them in frendly wyfe his heavy hap bewayles

But one emong the reft, the truftieft of his feeres,

Farre more then he with counfel fild, and ryper of his yeeres,
Gan fharply him rebuke; fuch love to him he bare,
That he was fellow of his fmart, and partner of his care.
"What meant thou Romeus, quoth he, what doting rage
Doth make thee thus confume away the best part of thine age,
In feking her that fcornes, and hydes her from thy fight,
Not forfing all thy great expence, ne yet thy honor bright,
Thy teares, thy wretched lyfe, ne thine unspotted truth,

Which are of force, I weene, to move the hardest hart to ruthe?
Now, for our frendships fake, and for thy health, I pray

That thou hence foorth become thine owne;-O give no more away
Unto a thankles wight thy pretious free eftate:

In that thou loveft fuck a one thou feemft thy self to hate.

For

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