With sight they feede their fancies then, and more it still desire, Ye more they haue, nor want they finde of sight they so require: And thus in tender impe spronge vp, this loue vpstarteth still, (35) For more their yeres, much more the flame, that doth their fancies fill. And where before their infants age, gaue no suspect at all. Now needefull is, with weary eye, to watchfull minde they call: Their whole estate, & it to guide, in such wise orderly, As of their secret sweete desires, ill tongues no light espy. (40) And so they did, but hard God wot, are flames of fire to hide Much more to cause a louers hart, within it bounds to finde: For neither colde, their mindes consent so quench of loue the rage Nor they at yeres, the least twise seuen, their passions so aswage But that to Thisbes Mothers eares, some spark therof were blowen, (45) Let Mothers iudg her pacience now, til shee the whole haue knowen. And so by wily wayes shee wrought, to her no litle care, That forth shee found, their whole deuise, and how they were in ||(snare: Great is her greefe, though smal the cause, if other cause ne were, For why a meeter match then they, might hap no other where: (50) But now tween Fathers, though the cause, mine Auctor nothing |(els, Such inward rancor risen is, and so it daily swels. As hope of freendship to be had, is none (alas) the while, Ne any loueday to be made, their mallice to begyle: Wherfore straight charge, straight giuen is with fathers frowning ||(chere, (55) That message worde, ne token els, what euer that it were: Should from their foe to Thisbee passe, & Pyramus freends likewise, No lesse expresse commaundement, doo for their sonne deuise. And yet not thus content alas, eche Father doth ordayne. A secret watch and bounde a point, wherin they shall remayne: (60) Sight is forbid, restrained are wordes, for scalde is all deuise, That should their poore afflicted mindes, reioyce in any wise: Though pyning loue, gaue cause before of many carefull yll, Yet dayly sithe amended all, at least well pleased them still: But now what depth of deepe distresse, may they indrowned bee, (65) That now in dayes twise twenty tolde, eche other once shall see. Curst is their face, so cry they ofte, and happy death they call, Come death come wished death at once, and rid vs life and all.