Not two households, instead we see two men;
Yet still, as such, alike in dignity
With ancient grudge as squalling mire within
Each heart, the beater of the mutiny.
Forlorn in faith the setting of our scene
Where religious cloths bate the loins as foes,
Entreating tendered hands to bathe th’unclean
Desiring man in temporal overthrows.
Now yet, with calloused knees, each man clasps life
From forth is known his unmistaken love
Which, unbeaten, lays hold anew their strife,
This star-cross’d love did not the cross remove
By which abounds perplexing parents’ rage
And damns a resolution on our stage.