University of Virginia Library

EPILOGVS.

Iul.
Lo here the sweets of grisly-pale despaire,
These are the blossoms of this cursed tree
Such are the fruits of too much loue and care
Orewhelmed in the sence of miserie.
With violent hands he that his life doth end,
His damned soul to endles night doth wend.
Now resteth it that I discharge mine oath,
To see th'unhappy louers and the king,
Layd in one tombe: I would be very loath:
You should wayt here to see this mournful thing.
For I am sure, and do ye all to wit,
Through griefe wherin the Lords of Salerne be,
These funerals are not prepared yet:
Nor do they think on that solemnitie.
As for the fury, ye must vnderstand,
Now she hath seen the'ffect of her desire,
She is departed, and hath left our land,
Graunting this end vnto her hellish ire.
Now humbly pray we that our English dames
May neuer lead their loues into mistrust:
But that their honors may auoid the shames
That follow such as liue in wanton lust.
We know they beare them on their vertues bold
With blisfull chastitie so wel content,
That when their liues, and loues abroad are told,
All men admire their vertuous gouernment.
Worthie to liue where Furie neuer came,
Worthie to liue where loue doth alwaies see,
Worthie to liue in golden trump of Fame,
Worthie to liue, and honoured stil to be.
Thus end our sorrowes with the setting Sun:
Now draw the curtens for our Scæne is done.