The fruitfull hilles aboue, the pleasant vales belowe,

The siluer streame with chanell depe, that through the town

doth flow;

The store of springes that serue for vse, and eke for ease,
And other moe commodities, which profite may and please;
Eke many certaine signes of thinges betyde of olde,

To fyll the houngry eyes of those that curiously beholde;
Doe make this towne to be preferde aboue the rest

Of Lumbard townes, or at the least, compared with the best.
In which while Escalus as prince alone dyd raigne,

To reache rewarde vnto the good, to paye the lewde with payne, Alas! (I rewe to thinke,) an heauy happe befell,

Which Boccace skant, (not my rude tonge,) were able forth to tell.

Within my trembling hande my penne doth shake for feare,
And, on my colde amased head, vpright doth stand my heare.
But sith shee doth commaunde, whose hest I must obaye,
In moorning verse a woful chaunce to tell I will assaye.
Helpe, learned Pallas, helpe, ye Muses with your arte,
Helpe, all ye damned feendes, to tell of ioyes retournd to smart:
Helpe eke, ye sisters three, my skillesse penne tindyte,
For you it causd, which I alas! vnable am to wryte.

grace and with better arrangement than any I have ever heard. It therefore chanced that, departing from Gradisca, where I was quartered, and, with this archer and two other of my servants, travelling, perhaps impelled by love, towards Udino, which route was then extremely solitary, and entirely ruined and burned up by the war,wholly absorbed in thought, and riding at a distance from the others, this Peregrino drawing near me, as one who guessed my thoughts, thus addressed me: Will you then for ever live this melancholy life, because a cruel and disdainful fair one does not love you? though I now speak against myself, yet, since advice is easier to give than to follow, I must tell you, master of mine, that, besides its being disgraceful in a man of your profession to remain long in the chains of love, almost all the ends to which he conducts us are so replete with misery, that it is dangerous to follow him. And in testimony of what I say, if it so please you, I could relate a transaction that happened in my native city, the recounting of which will render the way less solitary and less disagreeable to us; and in this relation you would perceive how two noble lovers were conducted to a miserable and piteous death.'-And now, upon my making him a sign of my willingness to listen, he thus began."

The phrase, in the beginning of this passage, when heaven had not as yet levelled against me its whole wrath, will be best explained by some account of the author, extracted from Crescimbeni, Istoria della Volgar Poesia, T. V. p. 91: " Luigi da Porto, a Vicentine, was, in his youth, on account of his valour, made a leader in the Venetian army; but, fighting against the Germans in Friuli, was so wounded, that he remained for a time wholly disabled, and afterwards lame and weak during his life; on which account, quitting thể profession of arms, he betook himself to letters," &c. MALONE.

There were two auncient stockes, which Fortune high dyd place Aboue the rest, indewd with welth, and nobler of their race; Loved of the common sort, loved of the prince alike,

And like vnhappy were they both, when Fortune list to strike; Whose prayse with equall blast Fame in her trumpet blew; The one was cliped Capelet, and thother Montagew.

A wonted vse it is, that men of likely sorte,

(I wot not by what furye forsd) enuye eche others porte. So these, whose egall state bred enuye pale of hew,

And then of grudging enuyes roote blacke hate and rancor grewe; As of a little sparke oft ryseth mighty fyre,

So, of a kyndled sparke of grudge, in flames flashe oute theyr

yre:

And then theyr deadly foode, first hatchd of trifling stryfe,
Did bathe in bloud of smarting woundes,-it reued breth and lyfe.
No legend lye I tell; scarce yet theyr eyes be drye,
That did behold the grisly sight with wet and weping eye.
But when the prudent prince who there the scepter helde,
So great a new disorder in his commonweale behelde,
By ientyl meane he sought their choler to asswage,
And by perswasion 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 lost his buysy payne.
When frendly sage aduise ne ientyll woords auayle,

By thondring threats and princely powre their courage gan he quayle;

In hope that when he had the wasting flame supprest,

In time he should quyte quench the sparks that boornd within their brest.

Now whilst these kyndreds do remayne in this estate,
And eche with outward frendly shew dooth hyde his inward hate,
One Romeus, who was of race a Montague,

Upon whose tender chyn as yet no manlyke beard there
grewe,
Whose beauty and whose shape so farre the rest did stayne,
That from the cheef of Veron youth he greatest fame dyd gayne,
Hath found a mayde so fayre (he founde so foul his happe)
Whose beauty, shape, and comely grace, did so his heart entrappe,
That from his owne affayres his thought she did remove;
Onely he sought to honor her, to serue her and to loue.
To her he writeth oft, oft messengers are sent,

At length, (in hope of better spede,) himselfe the louer went;
Present to pleade for grace, which absent was not founde,
And to discouer to her eye his new receaued wounde.
But she that from her youth was fostred euermore

With vertues foode, and taught in schole of wisdomes skilfull lore,

By aunswere did cutte off thaffections of his loue,
That he no more occasion had so vayne a sute to moue:
So sterne she was of chere, (for all the payne he tooke)
That, in reward of toyle, she would not geue a frendly looke
And yet how much she did with constant minde retyre,

So much the more his feruent minde was prickt fourth by de

syre,

But when he, many monthes, hopelesse of his recure,

Had serued her, who forced not what paynes he did endure,
At length he thought to leaue Verona, and to proue

If chaunge of place might chaunge awaye his ill-bestowed loue;
And speaking to himselfe, thus gan he make his mone:
"What booteth me to loue and serue a fell vnthankfull one,
Sith that my humble sute, and labour sowede in vayne,

Can reape none other fruite at all but scorne and proude disdayne?

What way she seekes to goe, the same I seeke to runne,

But she the path wherin I treade with spedy flight doth shunne.
I cannot liue except that nere to her I be;

She is ay best content when she is farthest of from me.
Wherefore henceforth I will farre from her take my flight;
Perhaps, mine eye once banished by absence from her sight,
This fyre of myne, that by her pleasant eyne is fed,
Shall little and little weare away, and quite at last be ded.”
But whilest he did decree this purpose still to kepe,
A contrary repugnant thought sanke in his brest so depe,
That doutefull is he now which of the twayne is best,
In sighs, in teares, in plainte, in care, in sorrow and vnrest,
He mones the daye, he wakes the long and wery night;
So deepe hath loue, with pearcing hand, ygrau'd her bewty bright
Within his brest, and hath so mastred quite his hart,

yeeres,

That he of force must yeld as thrall;-no way is left to start.
He cannot staye his steppe, but forth still must be ronne,
He languisheth and melts awaye, as snowe against the sonne.
His kyndred and alyes do wonder what he ayles,
And eche of them in frendly wise his heauy hap bewayles.
But one emong the rest, the trustiest of his feeres,
Farre more than he with counsel fild, and ryper of his
Gan sharply him rebuke; suche loue to him he bare,
That he was felow of his smart, and partner of his care.
**What meanst thou Romeus, quoth he, what doting rage
Dooth make thee thus consume away the best parte of thine age,
In seking her that scornes, and hydes her from thy sight,
Not forsing all thy great expence, ne yet thy honor bright,
Thy teares, thy wretched lyfe, ne thine vnspotted truth,
Which are of force, I weene, to moue the hardest hart to ruthe?

Now, for our frendships sake, and for thy health, I pray
That thou hencefoorth become thyne owne;-O geue no more

away

Vnto a thankeles wight thy precious free estate:

In that thou louest such a one thou seemst thyselfe to hate.
For she doth loue els where, and then thy time is lorne;

Or els (what booteth thee to sue?) Loues court she hath for

Sworne.

Both yong thou art of yeres, and high in Fortunes grace:
What man is better shapd than thou? who hath a swetter
face?

By painfull studies meane great learning hast thou wonne,
Thy parentes haue none other heyre, thou art theyr onely sonne.
What greater griefe, trowst thou, what wofull dedly smart,
Should so be able to distraine thy seely fathers hart,
As in his age to see thee plonged deepe in vyce,
When greatest hope he hath to heare thy vertues fame arise?
What shall thy kinsmen thinke, thou cause of all theyr ruthe?
Thy dedly foes do laugh to skorne thy yll-employed youth.
Wherefore my counsell is, that thou henceforth beginne
To knowe and flye the errour which to long thou liuedst in.
Remoue the veale of loue that keepes thine eyes so blynde,
That thou ne canst the ready path of thy forefathers fynde.
But if vnto thy will so much in thrall thou art,

Yet in some other place bestowe thy witles wandring hart.
Choose out some worthy dame, her honor thou, and serue,
Who will geue eare to thy complaint, and pitty ere thou sterue.
But sow no more thy paynes in such a barrayne soyle
As yeldes in haruest time no crop, in recompence of toyle.
Ere long the townishe dames together will resort,

Some one of bewty, favour, shape, and of so louely porte,
With so fast fixed eye perhaps thou mayst beholde,

That thou shalt quite forget thy loue and passions past of olde."
The yong mans lystning eare receiude the holsome sounde,
And reasons truth y-planted so, within his heade had grounde;
That now with healthy coole y-tempred is the heate,

And piece meale weares away the greefe that erst his heart dyd freate.

To his approued frend a solemne othe he plight,

At euery feast y-kept by day, and banquet made by night,

At pardons in the churche, at games in open streate,

And euery where he would resort where ladies wont to meete;

Eke should his sauage heart like all indifferently,

For he would view and iudge them all with vnallured eye.

How happy had he been, had he not been forsworne!

But twyse as happy had he been, had he been neuer borne.

For ere the moone could thryse her wasted hornes renew,
False Fortune cast for him, poore wretch, a myschiefe newe to
brewe.

The wery winter nightes restore the Christmas games,

And now the season doth inuite to banquet townish dames.
And fyrst in Capels house, the chiefe of all the kyn
Sparth for no cost, the wonted vse of banquets to begyn.
No lady fayre or fowle was in Verona towne,

No knight or gentleman of high or lowe renowne,

But Capilet himselfe hath byd vnto his feast,

Or, by his name in paper sent, appoynted as a geast.
Yong damsels thether flocke, of bachelers a rowte,

Not so much for the banquets sake, as bewties to searche out.
But not a Montagew would enter at his gate,

(For, as you heard, the Capilets and they were at debate)
Saue Romeus, and he in maske, with hidden face,

The supper done, with other fiue dyd prease into the place.
When they had maskd a whyle with dames in courtly wise,
All did vnmaske; the rest dyd shew them to theyr ladies eyes;
But bashfull Romeus with shamefast face forsooke

The open prease, and him withdrew into the chambers nooke.
But brighter then the sunne the waxen torches shone,
That, maugre what he could, he was espyd of euery one,
But of the women cheefe, theyr gasing eyes that threwe,
To woonder at his sightly shape, and bewties spotles hewe;
With which the heauens him had and nature so bedect,

That ladies, thought the fayrest dames, were fowle in his re
spect.

And in theyr head beside an other woonder rose,
How he durst put himselfe in throng among so many

foes:

Of courage stoute they thought his cumming to procede,
And women loue an hardy hart, as I in stories rede.
The Capilets disdayne the presence of theyr foe,

Yet they suppresse theyr styrred yre; the cause I do not knowe:
Perhaps toffend theyr gestes the courteous knights are loth;
Perhaps they stay from sharpe reuenge, dreadyng the princes

wroth;

Perhaps for that they shamd to exercise theyr rage
Within their house, gainst one alone, and him of tender age.
They vse no taunting talke, ne harme him by theyre deede,
They neyther say, what makst thou here, ne yet they say, God

speede.

So that he freely might the ladies view at ease,

And they also behelding him their chaunge of fansies please :
Which Nature had him taught to doe with such a grace,
That there was none but ioyed at his being there in place.

1