Shakespeare, Venus and Adonis (1594)

[2]

[1]EVEN as the sunne with purple-colourd face,
[2]Had tane his last leaue of the weeping morne,
[3]Rose-cheekt Adonis hied him to the chace,
[4]Hunting he lou'd, but loue he laught to scorne:
[5]Sick-thoughted Venus makes amaine vnto him,
[6]And like a bold fac'd suter ginnes to woo him.

[7]Thrise fairer then my selfe, (thus she began)
[8]The fields chiefe flower, sweet aboue compare,
[9]Staine to all Nimphs, more louely then a man,
[10]More white, and red, then doues, or roses are:
[11]Nature that made thee with her selfe at strife,
[12]Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.

[13]Vouchsafe thou wonder to alight thy steed,
[14]And raine his proud head to the saddle bow,
[15]If thou wilt daine this fauor, for thy meed
[16]A thousand honie secrets shalt thou know:
[17]Here come and sit, where neuer serpent hisses,
[18]And being set, Ile smother thee with kisses.

[3]

[19]And yet not cloy thy lips with loth'd sacietie,
[20]But rather famish them amid their plentie,
[21]Making them red, and pale, with fresh varietie:
[22]Ten kisses short as one, one long as twentie:
[23]A sommers day will seeme an houre but short,
[24]Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport.

[25]VVith this she ceazeth on his sweating palme,
[26]The president of pith, and liuelyhood,
[27]And trembling in her passion, calls it balme,
[28]Earths soueraigne salue, to do a goddesse good,
[29]Being so enrag'd, desire doth lend her force,
[30]Couragiously to plucke him from his horse.

[31]Ouer one arme the lustie coursers raine,
[32]Vnder her other was the tender boy,
[33]VVho blusht, and powted in a dull disdaine,
[34]VVith leaden appetite, vnapt to toy,
[35]She red, and hot, as coles of glovving fier,
[36]He red for shame, but frostie in desier.

[37]The studded bridle on a ragged bough,
[38]Nimbly she fastens, (ô how quicke is loue!)
[39]The steed is stalled vp, and euen now,
[40]To tie the rider she begins to proue:
[41]Backward she pusht him, as she would be thrust,
[42]And gouernd him in strength though not in lust.

[3]

[43]So soone was she along, as he was downe,
[44]Each leaning on their elbowes and their hips:
[45]Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he frown,
[46]And gins to chide, but soone she stops his lips,
[47]And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken,
[48]If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall neuer open.

[49]He burnes with bashfull shame, she with her teares
[50]Doth quench the maiden burning of his cheekes,
[51]Then with her windie sighes, and golden heares,
[52]To fan, and blow them drie againe she seekes.
[53]He saith, she is immodest, blames her misse,
[54]VVhat followes more, she murthers with a kisse.

[55]Euen as an emptie Eagle sharpe by fast,
[56]Tires with her beake on feathers, flesh, and bone,
[57]Shaking her wings, deuouring all in hast,
[58]Till either gorge be stuft, or pray be gone:
[59]Euen so she kist his brow, his cheeke, his chin,
[60]And where she ends, she doth anew begin.

[61]Forst to content, but neuer to obey,
[62]Panting he lies, and breatheth in her face.
[63]She feedeth on the steame, as on a pray,
[64]And calls it heauenly moisture, aire of grace,
[65]VVishing her cheeks were gardens ful of flowers,
[66]So they were dew'd with such distilling showers.

[4]

[67]Looke how a bird lyes tangled in a net,
[68]So fastned in her armes Adonis lyes,
[69]Pure shame and aw'd resistance made him fret,
[70]VVhich bred more beautie in his angrie eyes:
[71]Raine added to a riuer that is ranke,
[72]Perforce will force it ouerflow the banke.

[73]Still she intreats, and prettily intreats,
[74]For to a prettie eare she tunes her tale.
[75]Still is he sullein, still he lowres and frets,
[76]Twixt crimson shame, and anger ashie pale,
[77]Being red she loues him best, and being white,
[78]Her best is betterd with a more delight.

[79]Looke how he can, she cannot chuse but loue,
[80]And by her faire immortall hand she sweares,
[81]From his soft bosome neuer to remoue,
[82]Till he take truce with her contending teares,
[83]VVhich lōg haue raind, making her cheeks al wet,
[84]And one sweet kisse shal pay this comptlesse debt.

[85]Vpon this promise did he raise his chin,
[86]Like a diued apper peering through a waue,
[87]VVho being lookt on, ducks as quickly in:
[88]So offers he to giue what she did craue,
[89]But when her lips were readie for his pay,
[90]He winks, and turnes his lips another way.

[4]

[91]Neuer did passenger in sommers heat,
[92]More thirst for drinke, then she for this good turne,
[93]Her helpe she sees, but helpe she cannot get,
[94]She bathes in water, yet her fire must burne:
[95]Oh pitie gan she crie, flint-hearted boy,
[96]Tis but a kisse I begge, why art thou coy?

[97]I haue bene wooed as I intreat thee now,
[98]Euen by the sterne, and direfull god of warre,
[99]VVhose sinowie necke in battell nere did bow,
[100]VVho conquers where he comes in euerie iarre,
[101]Yet hath he bene my captiue, and my slaue,
[102]And begd for that which thou vnaskt shalt haue.

[103]Ouer my Altars hath he hong his launce,
[104]His battred shield, his vncontrolled crest,
[105]And for my sake hath learnd to sport, and daunce,
[106]To toy, to wanton, dallie, smile, and iest,
[107]Scorning his churlish drumme, and ensigne red,
[108]Making my armes his field, his tent my bed.

[109]Thus he that ouer-ruld, I ouer-swayed,
[110]Leading him prisoner in a red rose chaine,
[111]Strong-temperd steele his stronger strength obayed.
[112]Yet was he seruile to my coy disdaine,
[113]Oh be not proud, nor brag not of thy might,
[114]For maistring her that foyld the god of fight.

[5]

[115]Touch but my lips with those faire lips of thine,
[116]Though mine be not so faire, yet are they red,
[117]The kisse shalbe thine owne as well as mine,
[118]VVhat seest thou in the ground? hold vp thy head,
[119]Looke in mine ey-bals, there thy beautie lyes,
[120]Then why not lips on lips, since eyes in eyes?

[121]Art thou asham'd to kisse? then winke againe,
[122]And I will winke, so shall the day seeme night.
[123]Loue keepes his reuels where there are but twaine:
[124]Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight,
[125]These blew-veind violets whereon we leane,
[126]Neuer can blab, nor know not what we meane.

[127]The tender spring vpon thy tempting lip,
[128]Shewes thee vnripe; yet maist thou well be tasted,
[129]Make vse of time, let not aduantage slip,
[130]Beautie within it selfe should not be wasted,
[131]Faire flowers that are not gathred in their prime,
[132]Rot, and consume them selues in litle time.

[133]VVere I hard-fauourd, foule, or wrinckled old,
[134]Il-nurtur'd, crooked, churlish, harsh in voice,
[135]Ore-worne, despised, reumatique, and cold,
[136]Thick-sighted, barren, leane, and lacking iuyce;
[137]Thē mightst thou pause, for thē I were not for thee,
[138]But hauing no defects, why doest abhor me?

[5]

[139]Thou canst not see one wrinckle in my brow,
[140]Mine eyes are grey, and bright, & quicke in turning:
[141]My beautie as the spring doth yearelie grow,
[142]My flesh is soft, and plumpe, my marrow burning,
[143]My smooth moist hand, were it with thy hand felt,
[144]VVould in thy palme dissolue, or seeme to melt.

[145]Bid me discourse, I will inchaunt thine eare,
[146]Or like a Fairie, trip vpon the greene,
[147]Or like a Nimph, with long disheueled heare,
[148]Daunce on the sands, and yet no footing seene.
[149]Loue is a spirit all compact of fire,
[150]Not grosse to sinke, but light, and will aspire.

[151]VVitnesse this Primrose banke whereon I lie,
[152]These forcelesse flowers like sturdy trees support me:
[153]Two strēgthles doues will draw me through the skie,
[154]From morne till night, euen where I list to sport me.
[155]Is loue so light sweet boy, and may it be,
[156]That thou should thinke it heauie vnto thee?

[157]Is thine owne heart to thine owne face affected?
[158]Can thy right hand ceaze loue vpon thy left?
[159]Then woo thy selfe, be of thy selfe reiected:
[160]Steale thine own freedome, and complaine on theft.
[161]Narcissus so him selfe him selfe forsooke,
[162]And died to kisse his shadow in the brooke.

[6]

[163]Torches are made to light, iewels to weare,
[164]Dainties to tast, fresh beautie for the vse,
[165]Herbes for their smell, and sappie plants to beare.
[166]Things growing to them selues, are growths abuse,
[167]Seeds spring frō seeds, & beauty breedeth beauty,
[168]Thou wast begot, to get it is thy duty.

[169]Vpon the earths increase why shouldst thou feed,
[170]Vnlesse the earth with thy increase be fed?
[171]By law of nature thou art bound to breed,
[172]That thine may liue, when thou thy selfe art dead:
[173]And so in spite of death thou doest suruiue,
[174]In that thy likenesse still is left aliue.

[175]By this the loue-sicke Queene began to sweate,
[176]For where they lay the shadow had forsooke them,
[177]And Titan tired in the midday heate,
[178]VVith burning eye did hotly ouer-looke them,
[179]VVishing Adonis had his teame to guide,
[180]So he were like him, and by Venus side.

[181]And now Adonis with a lazie sprite,
[182]And with a heauie, darke, disliking eye,
[183]His lowring browes ore-whelming his faire sight,
[184]Like mistie vapors when they blot the skie,
[185]So wring his cheekes, cries, fie, no more of loue,
[186]The sunne doth burne my face I must remoue.

[6]

[187]Ay, me, (quoth Venus) young, and so vnkinde,
[188]VVhat bare excuses mak'st thou to be gon?
[189]Ile sigh celestiall breath, whose gentle winde,
[190]Shall coole the heate of this descending sun:
[191]Ile make a shadow for thee of my heares,
[192]If they burn too, Ile quench them with my teares.

[193]The sun that shines from heauen, shines but warme,
[194]And lo I lye betweene that sunne, and thee:
[195]The heate I haue from thence doth litle harme,
[196]Thine eye darts forth the fire that burneth me,
[197]And were I not immortall, life were done,
[198]Betweene this heauenly, and earthly sunne.

[199]Art thou obdurate, flintie, hard as steele?
[200]Nay more then flint, for stone at raine relenteth:
[201]Art thou a womans sonne and canst not feele
[202]VVhat tis to loue, how want of loue tormenteth?
[203]O had thy mother borne so hard a minde,
[204]She had not brought forth thee, but died vnkind.

[205]VVhat am I that thou shouldst contemne me this?
[206]Or what great danger, dwels vpon my sute?
[207]VVhat were thy lips the worse for one poore kis?
[208]Speake faire, but speake faire words, or else be mute:
[209]Giue me one kisse, Ile giue it thee againe,
[210]And one for intrest, if thou wilt haue twaine.

[7]

[211]Fie, liuelesse picture, cold, and sencelesse stone,
[212]VVell painted idoll, image dull, and dead,
[213]Statüe contenting but the eye alone,
[214]Thing like a man, but of no woman bred:
[215]Thou art no man, though of a mans complexion,
[216]For men will kisse euen by their owne direction.

[217]This said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue,
[218]And swelling passion doth prouoke a pause,
[219]Red cheeks, and fierie eyes blaze forth her wrong:
[220]Being Iudge in loue, she cannot right her cause.
[221]And now she weeps, & now she faine would speake
[222]And now her sobs do her intendments breake.

[223]Sometime she shakes her head, and then his hand,
[224]Now gazeth she on him, now on the ground;
[225]Sometime her armes infold him like a band,
[226]She would, he will not in her armes be bound:
[227]And when from thence he struggles to be gone,
[228]She locks her lillie fingers one in one.

[229]Fondling, she saith, since I haue hemd thee here
[230]VVithin the circuit of this iuorie pale,
[231]Ile be a parke, and thou shalt be my deare:
[232]Feed where thou wilt, on mountaine, or in dale;
[233]Graze on my lips, and if those hils be drie,
[234]Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.

[7]

[235]VVithin this limit is reliefe inough,
[236]Sweet bottome grasse, and high delightfull plaine,
[237]Round rising hillocks, brakes obscure, and rough,
[238]To shelter thee from tempest, and from raine:
[239]Then be my deare, since I am such a parke,
[240]No dog shal rowze thee, though a thousand bark

[241]At this Adonis smiles as in disdaine,
[242]That in ech cheeke appeares a prettie dimple;
[243]Loue made those hollowes, if him selfe were slaine,
[244]He might be buried in a tombe so simple,
[245]Foreknowing well, if there he came to lie,
[246]VVhy there loue liu'd, & there he could not die.

[247]These louely caues, these round inchanting pits,
[248]Opend their mouthes to swallow Venus liking:
[249]Being mad before, how doth she now for wits?
[250]Strucke dead at first, what needs a second striking?
[251]Poore Queene of loue, in thine own law forlorne,
[252]To loue a cheeke that smiles at thee in scorne.

[253]Now which way shall she turne? what shall she say?
[254]Her words are done, her woes the more increasing,
[255]The time is spent, her obiect will away,
[256]And from her twining armes doth vrge releasing:
[257]Pitie she cries, some fauour, some remorse,
[258]Away he springs, and hasteth to his horse.

[8]

[259]But lo from forth a copp's that neighbors by,
[260]A breeding Iennet, Iustie, young, and proud,
[261]Adonis trampling Courser doth espy:
[262]And forth she rushes, snorts, and neighs aloud.
[263]The strong-neckt steed being tied vnto a tree,
[264]Breaketh his raine, and to her straight goes hee.

[265]Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds,
[266]And now his wouen girthes he breaks asunder,
[267]The bearing earth with his hard hoofe he wounds,
[268]VVhose hollow wombe resounds like heauens thun­der,
[269]The yron bit he crusheth tweene his teeth,
[270]Controlling what he was controlled with.

[271]His eares vp prickt, his braided hanging mane
[272]Vpon his compast crest now stand on end,
[273]His nostrils drinke the aire, and forth againe
[274]As from a fornace, vapors doth he send:
[275]His eye which scornfully glisters like fire,
[276]Shewes his hote courage, and his high desire.

[277]Sometime he trots, as if he told the steps,
[278]VVith gentle maiestie, and modest pride,
[279]Anon he reres vpright, curuets, and leaps,
[280]As who should say, lo thus my strength is tride.
[281]And this I do, to captiuate the eye,
[282]Of the faire breeder that is standing by.

[8]

[283]VVhat recketh he his riders angrie sturre,
[284]His flattering holla, or his stand, I say,
[285]VVhat cares he now, for curbe, or pricking spurre,
[286]For rich caparisons, or trappings gay:
[287]He sees his loue, and nothing else he sees,
[288]For nothing else with his proud sight agrees.

[289]Looke when a Painter would surpasse the life,
[290]In limming out a well proportioned steed,
[291]His Art with Natures workmanship at strife,
[292]As if the dead the liuing should exceed:
[293]So did this Horse excell a common one,
[294]In shape, in courage, colour, pace and bone.

[295]Round hooft, short ioynted, fetlocks shag, and long,
[296]Broad breast, full eye, small head, and nostrill wide,
[297]High crest, short eares, straight legs, & passing strōg,
[298]Thin mane, thicke taile, broad buttock, tender hide:
[299]Looke what a Horse should haue, he did not lack,
[300]Saue a proud rider on so proud a back.

[301]Sometime he scuds farre off, and there he stares,
[302]Anon he starts, at sturring of a feather:
[303]To bid the wind a base he now prepares,
[304]And where he runne, or flie, they know not whether:
[305]For through his mane, & taile, the high wind sings,
[306]Fanning the haires, who waue like feathred wings.

[9]

[307]He lookes vpon his loue, and neighes vnto her,
[308]She answers him, as if she knew his minde,
[309]Being proud as females are, to see him woo her,
[310]She puts on outward strangenesse, seemes vnkinde:
[311]Spurnes at his loue, and scorns the heat he feeles,
[312]Beating his kind imbracements with her heeles.

[313]Then like a melancholy malcontent,
[314]He vailes his taile that like a falling plume,
[315]Coole shadow to his melting buttocke lent,
[316]He stamps, and bites the poore flies in his fume:
[317]His loue perceiuing how he was inrag'd,
[318]Grew kinder, and his furie was asswag'd.

[319]His testie maister goeth about to take him,
[320]VVhen lo the vnbackt breeder full of feare,
[321]Iealous of catching, swiftly doth forsake him,
[322]VVith her the Horse, and left Adonis there:
[323]As they were mad vnto the wood they hie them,
[324]Out stripping crowes, that striue to ouerfly them.

[325]All swolne with chafing, downe Adonis sits,
[326]Banning his boystrous, and vnruly beast;
[327]And now the happie season once more sits
[328]That louesicke loue, by pleading may be blest:
[329]For louers say, the heart hath treble wrong,
[330]VVhen it is bard the aydance of the tongue.

[9]

[331]An Ouen that is stopt, or riuer stayd,
[332]Burneth more hotly, swelleth with more rage:
[333]So of concealed sorow may be sayd,
[334]Free vent of words loues fier doth asswage,
[335]But when the hearts atturney once is mute,
[336]The client breakes, as desperat in his sute.

[337]He sees her comming, and begins to glow:
[338]Euen as a dying coale reuiues with winde,
[339]And with his bonnet hides his angrie brow,
[340]Lookes on the dull earth with disturbed minde:
[341]Taking no notice that she is so nye,
[342]For all askance he holds her in his eye.

[343]O what a sight it was wistly to view,
[344]How she came stealing to the wayward boy,
[345]To note the fighting conflict of her hew,
[346]How white and red, ech other did destroy:
[347]But now her cheeke was pale, and by and by
[348]It flasht forth fire, as lightning from the skie.

[349]Now was she iust before him as he sat,
[350]And like a lowly louer downe she kneeles,
[351]VVith one faire hand she heaueth vp his hat,
[352]Her other tender hand his faire cheeke feeles:
[353]His tendrer cheeke, receiues her soft hands print,
[354]As apt, as new falne snow takes any dint.

[10]

[355]Oh what a war of lookes was then betweene them,
[356]Her eyes petitioners to his eyes suing,
[357]His eyes saw her eyes, as they had not seene them,
[358]Her eyes wooed still, his eyes disdaind the wooing:
[359]And all this dumbe play had his acts made plain,
[360]VVith tears which Chorus-like her eyes did rain.

[361]Full gently now she takes him by the hand,
[362]A lillie prisond in a gaile of snow,
[363]Or Iuorie in an allablaster band,
[364]So white a friend, ingirts so white a fo:
[365]This beautious combat wilfull, and vnwilling,
[366]Showed like two siluer doues that sit a billing.

[367]Once more the engin of her thoughts began,
[368]O fairest mouer on this mortall round,
[369]VVould thou wert as I am, and I a man,
[370]My heart all whole as thine, thy heart my wound,
[371]For one sweet looke thy helpe I would assure thee,
[372]Thogh nothing but my bodies bane wold cure thee

[373]Giue me my hand (saith he,) why dost thou feele it?
[374]Giue me my heart (saith she,) and thou shalt haue it.
[375]O giue it me lest thy hard heart do steele it,
[376]And being steeld, soft sighes can neuer graue it.
[377]Then loues deepe grones, I neuer shall regard,
[378]Because Adonis heart hath made mine hard.

[10]

[379]For shame he cries, let go, and let me go,
[380]My dayes delight is past, my horse is gone,
[381]And tis your fault I am bereft him so,
[382]I pray you hence, and leaue me here alone,
[383]For all my mind, my thought, my busie care,
[384]Is how to get my palfrey from the mare.

[385]Thus she replies, thy palfrey as he should,
[386]VVelcomes the warme approch of sweet desire,
[387]Affection is a coale that must be coold,
[388]Else sufferd it will set the heart on fire,
[389]The sea hath bounds, but deepe desire hath none,
[390]Therfore no maruell though thy horse be gone.

[391]How like a iade he stood tied to the tree,
[392]Seruilly maisterd with a leatherne raine,
[393]But when he saw his loue, his youths faire fee,
[394]He held such pettie bondage in disdaine:
[395]Throwing the base thong from his bending crest,
[396]Enfranchising his mouth, his backe, his brest.

[397]VVho sees his true-loue in her naked bed,
[398]Teaching the sheets a whiter hew then white,
[399]But when his glutton eye so full hath fed,
[400]His other agents ayme at like delight?
[401]VVho is so faint that dares not be so bold,
[402]To touch the fier the weather being cold?

[11]

[403]Let me excuse thy courser gentle boy,
[404]And learne of him I heartily beseech thee,
[405]To take aduantage on presented ioy,
[406]Though I were dūbe, yet his proceedings teach thee
[407]O learne to loue, the lesson is put plaine,
[408]And once made perfect, neuer lost againe.

[409]I knowe not loue (quote he) nor will not know it,
[410]Vnlesse it be a Boare, and then I chase it,
[411]Tis much to borrow, and I will not owe it,
[412]My loue to loue, is loue, but to disgrace it,
[413]For I haue heard, it is a life in death,
[414]That laughs and weeps, and all but with a breath.

[415]VVho weares a garment shapelesse and vnfinisht?
[416]VVho plucks the bud before one leafe put forth?
[417]If springing things be anie iot diminisht,
[418]They wither in their prime, proue nothing worth,
[419]The colt that's backt and burthend being yong,
[420]Loseth his pride, and neuer waxeth strong.

[421]You hurt my hand with wringing, let vs part,
[422]And leaue this idle theame, this bootlesse chat,
[423]Remoue your siege from my vnyeelding hart,
[424]To loues allarmes it will not ope the gate,
[425]Dismisse your vows, your fained tears, your flattry,
[426]For where a heart is hard they make no battry.

[11]

[427]VVhat canst thou talke (quoth she) hast thou a tong?
[428]O would thou hadst not, or I had no hearing,
[429]Thy marmaides voice hath done me double wrong,
[430]I had my lode before, now prest with bearing,
[431]Mellodious discord, heauenly tune harsh sounding,
[432]Eares deep sweet musik, & harts deep sore woūding

[433]Had I no eyes but eares, my eares would loue,
[434]That inward beautie and inuisible,
[435]Or were I deafe, thy outward parts would moue
[436]Ech part in me, that were but sensible,
[437]Though neither eyes, nor eares, to heare nor see,
[438]Yet should I be in loue, by touching thee.

[439]Say that the sence of feeling were bereft me,
[440]And that I could not see, nor heare, nor touch,
[441]And nothing but the verie smell were left me,
[442]Yet would my loue to thee be still as much,
[443]For frō the stillitorie of thy face excelling,
[444]Coms breath perfumd, that breedeth loue by smel­ling.

[445]But oh what banquet wert thou to the tast,
[446]Being nourse, and feeder of the other foure,
[447]VVould they not wish the feast might euer last,
[448]And bid suspition double locke the dore;
[449]Lest iealousie that sower vnwelcome guest,
[450]Should by his stealing in disturbe the feast?

[12]

[451]Once more the rubi-colourd portall opend,
[452]VVhich to his speech did honie passage yeeld,
[453]Like a red morne that euer yet betokend,
[454]VVracke to the sea-man, tempest to the field:
[455]Sorrow to shepherds, wo vnto the birds,
[456]Gusts, and foule flawes, to heardmen, & to herds.

[457]This ill presage aduisedly she marketh,
[458]Euen as the wind is husht before it raineth:
[459]Or as the wolfe doth grin before he barketh:
[460]Or as the berrie breakes before it staineth:
[461]Or like the deadly bullet of a gun:
[462]His meaning strucke her ere his words begun.

[463]And at his looke she flatly falleth downe,
[464]For lookes kill loue, and loue by lookes reuiueth,
[465]A smile recures the wounding of a frowne,
[466]But blessed bankrout that by loue so thriueth.
[467]The sillie boy beleeuing she is dead,
[468]Claps her pale cheeke, till clapping makes it red.

[469]And all amaz'd, brake off his late intent,
[470]For sharply he did thinke to reprehend her,
[471]VVhich cunning loue did wittily preuent,
[472]Faire-fall the wit that can so well defend her:
[473]For on the grasse she lyes as she were slaine,
[474]Till his breath breatheth life in her againe.

[12]

[475]He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheekes,
[476]He bends her fingers, holds her pulses hard,
[477]He chafes her lips, a thousand wayes he seekes,
[478]To mend the hurt, that his vnkindnesse mard,
[479]He kisses her, and she by her good will,
[480]VVill neuer rise, so he will kisse her still.

[481]The night of sorrow now is turnd to day,
[482]Her two blew windowes faintly she vpheaueth,
[483]Like the faire sunne when in his fresh array,
[484]He cheeres the morne, and all the earth releeueth:
[485]And as the bright sunne glorifies the skie:
[486]So is her face illumind with her eye.

[487]VVhose beames vpon his hairelesse face are fixt,
[488]As if from thence they borrowed all their shine,
[489]VVere neuer foure such lamps, together mixt,
[490]Had not his clouded with his browes repine:
[491]But hers, which through the cristal tears gaue light,
[492]Shone like the Moone in water seene by night.

[493]O where am I (quoth she,) in earth or heauen,
[494]Or in the Ocean drencht, or in the fire:
[495]VVhat houre is this, or morne, or wearie euen,
[496]Do I delight to die or life desire?
[497]But how I liu'd, and life was deaths annoy,
[498]But now I dy'de, and death was liuely ioy.

[13]

[499]O thou didst kill me, kill me once againe,
[500]Thy eyes shr [...]wd tutor, that hard heart of thine,
[501]Hath taught them scornfull tricks, & such disdaine,
[502]That they haue murdred this poore heart of mine,
[503]And these mine eyes true leaders to their queene,
[504]But for thy piteous lips no more had seene.

[505]Long may they kisse ech other for this cure,
[506]Oh neuer let their crimson liueries weare,
[507]And as they last, their verdour still endure,
[508]To driue infection from the dangerous yeare:
[509]That the star-gazers hauing writ on death,
[510]May say, the plague is banisht by thy breath.

[511]Pure lips, sweet seales in my soft lips imprinted,
[512]VVhat bargaines may I make still to be sealing?
[513]To sell my selfe I can be well contented,
[514]So thou wilt buy, and pay, and vse good dealing,
[515]VVhich purchase if thou make, for feare of slips,
[516]Set thy seale manuell, on my wax-red lips.

[517]A thousand kisses buyes my heart from me,
[518]And pay them at thy leisure, one by one,
[519]VVhat is ten hundred touches vnto thee,
[520]Are they not quickly told, and quickly gone?
[521]Say for non paimēt, that the debt should double,
[522]Is twentie hundred kisses such a trouble?

[13]

[523]Faire Queene (quoth he) if anie loue you owe me,
[524]Measure my strangenesse with my vnripe yeares,
[525]Before I know my selfe, seeke not to know me,
[526]No fisher but the vngrowne frie forbeares,
[527]The mellow plum doth fall, the greene sticks fast,
[528]Or being early pluckt, is sower to tast.

[529]Looke the worlds comforter with wearie gate,
[530]His dayes hot taske hath ended in the west,
[531]The owle (nights herald) shreeks, tis verie late,
[532]The sheepe are gone to fold, birds to their nest,
[533]And cole-black clouds, that shadow heauens light,
[534]Do summon vs to part, and bid good night.

[535]Now let me say goodnight, and so say you,
[536]If you will say so, you shall haue a kis;
[537]Goodnight (quoth she) and ere he sayes adue,
[538]The honie fee of parting tendred is,
[539]Her armes do lend his necke a sweet imbrace,
[540]Incorporate then they seeme, face growes to face.

[541]Till breathlesse he disioynd, and backward drew,
[542]The heauenly moisture that sweet corall mouth,
[543]VVhose precious tast, her thirstie-lips well knew,
[544]VVhereon they surfet, yet complaine on drouth,
[545]He with her plentie pr [...]st, she faint with dearth,
[546]Their lips together glewed, fall to the earth.

[14]

[547]Now quicke desire hath caught the yeelding pray,
[548]And gluttonlike she feeds, yet neuer filleth,
[549]Her lips are conquerers, his lips obay,
[550]Paying what ransome the insulter willeth:
[551]VVhose vultur thought doth pitch the price so hie,
[552]That she will draw his lips rich treasure drie.

[553]And hauing felt the sweetnesse of the spoile,
[554]VVith blind fold furie she begins to forrage,
[555]Her face doth reeke, & smoke, her blood doth boile,
[556]And carelesse lust stirs vp a desperat courage,
[557]Planting obliuion, beating reason backe,
[558]Forgetting shames pure blush, & honors wracke.

[559]Hot, faint, and wearie, with her hard imbracing,
[560]Like a wild bird being tam'd with too much hādling,
[561]Or as the fleet-foot Roe that's tyr'd with chasing,
[562]Or like the froward infant stild with dandling:
[563]He now obayes, and now no more resisteth,
[564]VVhile she takes all she can, not all she listeth.

[565]VVhat waxe so frozen but dissolues with tempring,
[566]And yeelds at last to euerie light impression?
[567]Things out of hope, are compast oft with ventring,
[568]Chiefly in loue, whose leaue exceeds commission:
[569]Affection faints not like a pale-fac'd coward,
[570]But thē woes best, whē most his choice is froward.

[14]

[571]VVhen he did frowne, ô had she then gaue ouer,
[572]Such nectar from his lips she had not suckt,
[573]Foule wordes, and frownes, must not repell a louer,
[574]VVhat though the rose haue prickles, yet tis pluckt?
[575]VVere beautie vnder twentie locks kept fast,
[576]Yet loue breaks through, & picks them all at last.

[577]For pittie now she can no more detaine him,
[578]The poore foole praies her that he may depart,
[579]She is resolu'd no longer to restraine him,
[580]Bids him farewell, and looke well to her hart,
[581]The which by Cupids bow she doth protest,
[582]He carries thence incaged in his brest.

[583]Sweet boy she saies, this night ile wast in sorrow,
[584]For my sick heart commands mine eyes to watch,
[585]Tell me loues maister, shall we meete to morrow,
[586]Say, shall we, shall we, wilt thou make the match?
[587]He tell's her no, to morrow he intends,
[588]To hunt the boare with certaine of his frends.

[589]The boare (quoth she) whereat a suddain pale,
[590]Like lawne being spred vpon the blushing rose,
[591]Vsurpes her cheeke, she trembles at his tale,
[592]And on his neck her yoaking armes she throwes.
[593]She sincketh downe, still hanging by his necke,
[594]He on her belly fall's, she on her backe.

[15]

[595]Now is she in the verie lists of loue,
[596]Her champion mounted for the hot incounter,
[597]All is imaginarie she doth proue,
[598]He will not mannage her, although he mount her,
[599]That worse then Tantalus is her annoy,
[600]To clip Elizium, and to lacke her ioy.

[601]Euen so poore birds deceiu'd with painted grapes,
[602]Do surfet by the eye, and pine the maw:
[603]Euen so she languisheth in her mishaps,
[604]As those poore birds that helplesse berries saw,
[605]The warme effects which she in him finds missing,
[606]She seekes to kindle with continuall kissing.

[607]But all in vaine, good Queene, it will not bee,
[608]She hath assai'd as much as may be prou'd,
[609]Her pleading hath deseru'd a greater fee,
[610]She's loue; she loues, and yet she is not lou'd,
[611]Fie, fie, he saies, you crush me, let me go,
[612]You haue no reason to withhold me so.

[613]Thou hadst bin gone (quoth she) sweet boy ere this,
[614]But that thou toldst me, thou woldst hunt the boare,
[615]Oh be aduisd, thou know'st not what it is,
[616]VVith iauelings point a churlish swine to goare,
[617]VVhose tushes neuer sheathd, he whetteth still,
[618]Like to a mortall butcher bent to kill.

[15]

[619]On his bow-backe, he hath a battell set,
[620]Of brisly pikes that euer threat his foes,
[621]His eyes like glow-wormes shine, when he doth fret
[622]His snout digs sepulchers where ere he goes,
[623]Being mou'd he strikes, what ere is in his way,
[624]And whom he strikes, his crooked tushes slay.

[625]His brawnie sides with hairie bristles armed,
[626]Are better proofe then thy speares point can enter,
[627]His short thick necke cannot be easily harmed,
[628]Being irefull, on the lyon he will venter,
[629]The thornie brambles, and imbracing bushes,
[630]As fearefull of him part, through whom he rushes.

[631]Alas, he naught esteem's that face of thine,
[632]To which loues eyes paies tributarie gazes,
[633]Nor thy soft handes, sweet lips, and christall eine,
[634]VVhose full perfection all the world amazes,
[635]But hauing thee at vantage (wondrous dread!)
[636]VVold roote these beauties, as he root's the mead.

[637]Oh let him keep his loathsome cabin still,
[638]Beautie hath naught to do with such foule fiends,
[639]Come not within his danger by thy will,
[640]They that thriue well, take counsell of their friends,
[641]VVhen thou didst name the boare, not to dissēble,
[642]I feard thy fortune, and my ioynts did tremble.

[16]

[643]Didst thou not marke my face, was it not white?
[644]Sawest thou not signes of feare lurke in mine eye?
[645]Grew I not faint, and fell I not downe right?
[646]VVithin my bosome whereon thou doest lye,
[647]My boding heart, pants, beats, and takes no rest,
[648]But like an earthquake, shakes thee on my brest.

[649]For where loue raignes, disturbing iealousie,
[650]Doth call him selfe affections centinell,
[651]Giues false alarmes, suggesteth mutinie,
[652]And in a peacefull houre doth crie, kill, kill,
[653]Distempring gentle loue in his desire,
[654]As aire, and water do abate the fire.

[655]This sower informer, this bate-breeding spie,
[656]This canker that eates vp loues tender spring,
[657]This carry-tale, dissentious iealousie,
[658]That somtime true newes, somtime false doth bring,
[659]Knocks at my heart, and whispers in mine eare,
[660]That if I loue thee, I thy death should feare.

[661]And more then so, presenteth to mine eye,
[662]The picture of an angrie chafing boare,
[663]Vnder whose sharpe fangs, on his backe doth lye,
[664]An image like thy selfe, all staynd with goare,
[665]VVhose blood vpon the fresh flowers being shed,
[666]Doth make thē droop with grief, & hang the hed.

[16]

[667]VVhat should I do, seeing thee so indeed?
[668]That tremble at th'imagination,
[669]The thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed,
[670]And feare doth teach it diuination;
[671]I prophecie thy death, my liuing sorrow,
[672]If thou incounter with the boare to morrow

[673]But if thou needs wilt hunt, be rul'd by me,
[674]Vncouple at the timerous flying hare,
[675]Or at the foxe which liues by subtiltie,
[676]Or at the Roe which no incounter dare:
[677]Persue these fearfull creatures o're the downes,
[678]And on thy wel breathd horse keep with thy hoūds

[679]And when thou hast on foote the purblind hare,
[680]Marke the poore wretch to ouer-shut his troubles,
[681]How he outruns the wind, and with what care,
[682]He crankes and crosses with a thousand doubles,
[683]The many musits though the which he goes,
[684]Are like a laberinth to amaze his foes.

[685]Sometime he runnes among a flocke of sheepe,
[686]To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell,
[687]And sometime where earth-deluing Conies keepe,
[688]To stop the loud persuers in their yell:
[689]And sometime sorteth with a heard of deare,
[690]Danger deuiseth shifts, wit waites on feare.

[17]

[691]For there his smell with others being mingled,
[692]The hot sent-snuffing hounds are driuen to doubt,
[693]Ceasing their clamorous cry, till they haue singled
[694]VVith much ado the cold fault cleanly out,
[695]Then do they spend their mouth's, eccho replies,
[696]As if an other chase were in the skies.

[697]By this poore wat farre off vpon a hill,
[698]Stands on his hinder-legs with listning eare,
[699]To hearken if his foes pursue him still,
[700]Anon their loud alarums he doth heare,
[701]And now his griefe may be compared well,
[702]To one sore sicke, that heares the passing bell.

[703]Then shalt thou see the deaw-bedabbled wretch,
[704]Turne, and returne, indenting with the way,
[705]Ech enuious brier, his wearie legs do scratch,
[706]Ech shadow makes him stop, ech murmour stay,
[707]For miserie is troden on by manie,
[708]And being low, neuer releeu'd by anie.

[709]Lye quietly, and heare a litle more,
[710]Nay do not struggle, for thou shalt not rise,
[711]To make thee hate the hunting of the bore,
[712]Vnlike my selfe thou hear'st me moralize,
[713]Applying this to that, and so to so,
[714]For loue can comment vpon euerie wo.

[17]

[715]VVhere did I leaue? no matter where (quoth he)
[716]Leaue me, and then the storie aptly ends,
[717]The night is spent; why what of that (quoth she?)
[718]I am (quoth he) expected of my friends,
[719]And now tis darke, and going I shall fall.
[720]In night (quoth she) desire sees best of all.

[721]But if thou fall, oh then imagine this,
[722]The earth in loue with thee, thy footing trips,
[723]And all is but to rob thee of a kis,
[724]Rich prayes make true-men theeues: so do thy lips
[725]Make modest Dyan, cloudie and forlorne,
[726]Lest she should steale a kisse and die forsworne.

[727]Now of this darke night I perceiue the reason,
[728]Cinthia for shame, obscures her siluer shine,
[729]Till forging nature be condemn'd of treason,
[730]For stealing moulds from heauen, that were diuine,
[731]VVherin she fram'd thee, in hie heauens despight,
[732]To shame the sunne by day, and her by night.

[733]And therefore hath she brib'd the destinies,
[734]To crosse the curious workmanship of nature,
[735]To mingle beautie with infirmities,
[736]And pure perfection with impure defeature,
[737]Making it subiect to the tyrannie,
[738]Of mad mischances, and much miserie.

[18]

[739]As burning feauers, agues pale, and faint,
[740]Life-poysoning pestilence, and frendzies wood,
[741]The marrow-eating sicknesse whose attaint,
[742]Disorder breeds by heating of the blood,
[743]Surfets, impostumes, griefe, and damnd dispaire,
[744]Sweare natures death, for framing thee so faire.

[745]And not the least of all these maladies,
[746]But in one minutes fight brings beautie vnder,
[747]Both fauour, sauour, hew, and qualities,
[748]VVhereat the th'impartiall gazer late did wonder,
[749]Are on the sudden wasted, thawed, and donne,
[750]As mountain snow melts with the midday sonne.

[751]Therefore despight of fruitlesse chastitie,
[752]Loue-lacking vestals, and selfe-louing Nuns,
[753]That on the earth would breed a scarcitie,
[754]And barraine dearth of daughters, and of suns;
[755]Be prodigall, the lampe that burnes by night,
[756]Dries vp his oyle, to lend the world his light.

[757]VVhat is thy bodie but a swallowing graue,
[758]Seeming to burie that posteritie,
[759]VVhich by the rights of time thou needs must haue,
[760]If thou destroy them not in darke obscuritie?
[761]If so the world will hold thee in disdaine,
[762]Sith in thy pride, so faire a hope is slaine.

[18]

[763]So in thy selfe, thy selfe art made away,
[764]A mischiefe worse then ciuill home-bred strife,
[765]Or theirs whose desperat hands them selues do slay,
[766]Or butcher sire, that reaues his sonne of life:
[767]Foule cankring rust, the hidden treasure frets,
[768]But gold that's put to vse more gold begets.

[769]Nay then (quoth Adon) you will fall againe,
[770]Into your idle ouer-handled theame,
[771]The kisse I gaue you is bestow'd in vaine,
[772]And all in vaine you striue against the streame,
[773]For by this black-fac't night, desires foule nourse,
[774]Your treatise makes me like you, worse & worse.

[775]If loue haue lent you twentie thousand tongues,
[776]And euerie tongue more mouing then your owne,
[777]Bewitching like the wanton Marmaids songs,
[778]Yet from mine eare the tempting tune is blowne,
[779]For know my heart stands armed in mine eare,
[780]And will not let a false sound enter there.

[781]Lest the deceiuing harmonie should ronne,
[782]Into the quiet closure of my brest,
[783]And then my litle heart were quite vndone,
[784]In his bed-chamber to be bard of rest,
[785]No Ladie no, my heart longs not to grone,
[786]But soundly sleeps, while now it sleeps alone.

[19]

[787]VVhat haue you vrg'd, that I can not reproue?
[788]The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger,
[789]I hate not loue, but your deuise in loue,
[790]That lends imbracements vnto euery stranger,
[791]You do it for increase, ô straunge excuse!
[792]VVhen reason is the bawd to lusts abuse.

[793]Call it not loue, for loue to heauen is fled,
[794]Since sweating lust on earth vsurpt his name,
[795]Vnder whose simple semblance he hath fed,
[796]Vpon fresh beautie, blotting it with blame;
[797]VVhich the hot tyrant staines, & soone bereaues:
[798]As Caterpillers do the tender leaues.

[799]Loue comforteth like sun-shine after raine,
[800]But lusts effect is tempest after sunne,
[801]Loues gentle spring doth alwayes fresh remaine,
[802]Lusts winter comes, ere sommer halfe be donne:
[803]Loue surfets not, lust like a glutton dies:
[804]Loue is all truth, lust full of forged lies.

[805]More I could tell, but more I dare not say,
[806]The text is old, the Orator too greene,
[807]Therefore in sadnesse, now I will away,
[808]My face is full of shame, my heart of teene,
[809]Mine eares that to your wanton talke attended,
[810]Do burne them selues, for hauing so offended.

[19]

[811]VVith this he breaketh from the sweet embrace,
[812]Of those faire armes which bound him to her brest,
[813]And homeward through the dark lawnd runs apace,
[814]Leaues loue vpon her backe, deeply distrest,
[815]Looke how a bright star shooteth from the skye;
[816]So glides he in the night from Venus eye.

[817]VVhich after him she dartes, as one on shore
[818]Gazing vpon a late embarked friend,
[819]Till the wilde waues will haue him seene no more,
[820]VVhose ridges with the meeting cloudes contend:
[821]So did the mercilesse, and pitchie night,
[822]Fold in the obiect that did feed her sight.

[823]VVhereat amas'd as one that vnaware,
[824]Hath dropt a precious iewell in the flood,
[825]Or stonisht, as night wandrers often are,
[826]Their light blowne out in some mistrustfull wood;
[827]Euen so confounded in the darke she lay,
[828]Hauing lost the faire discouerie of her way.

[829]And now she beates her heart, whereat it grones,
[830]That all the neighbour caues as seeming troubled,
[831]Make verball repetition of her mones,
[832]Passion on passion, deeply is redoubled,
[833]Ay me, she cries, and twentie times, wo, wo,
[834]And twentie ecchoes, twentie times crie so,

[20]

[835]She marking them, begins a wailing note,
[836]And sings extemporally a wofull dittie,
[837]How loue makes yong-men thrall, & old men dote,
[838]How loue is wise in follie, foolish wittie:
[839]Her heauie antheme still concludes in wo,
[840]And still the quier of ecchoes answer so.

[841]Her song was tedious, and out-wore the night,
[842]For louers houres are long, though seeming short,
[843]If pleasd themselues, others they thinke delight,
[844]In such like circumstance, with such like sport:
[845]Their copious stories oftentimes begunne,
[846]End without audience, and are neuer donne.

[847]For who hath she to spend the night withall,
[848]But idle sounds resembling parasits?
[849]Like shrill-tongu'd Tapsters answering euerie call,
[850]Soothing the humor of fantastique wits,
[851]She sayes tis so, they answer all tis so,
[852]And would say after her, if she said no.

[853]Lo here the gentle larke wearie of rest,
[854]From his moyst cabinet mounts vp on hie,
[855]And wakes the morning, from whose siluer brest,
[856]The sunne ariseth in his maiestie,
[857]VVho doth the world so gloriously behold,
[858]That Ceader tops and hils, seeme burnisht gold.

[20]

[859]Venus salutes him with this faire good morrow,
[860]Oh thou cleare god, and patron of all light,
[861]From whom ech lamp, and shining star doth borrow,
[862]The beautious influence that makes him bright,
[863]There liues a sonne that suckt an earthly mother,
[864]May lend thee light, as thou doest lend to other.

[865]This sayd, she hasteth to a mirtle groue,
[866]Musing the morning is so much ore-worne,
[867]And yet she heares no tidings of her loue;
[868]She harkens for his hounds, and for his horne,
[869]Anon she heares them chaunt it lustily,
[870]And all in hast she coasteth to the cry.

[871]And as she runnes, the bushes in the way,
[872]Some catch her by the necke, some kisse her face,
[873]Some twin'd about her thigh to make her stay,
[874]She wildly breaketh from their strict imbrace,
[875]Like a milch Doe, whose swelling dugs do ake,
[876]Hasting to feed her fawne, hid in some brake,

[877]By this she heares the hounds are at a bay,
[878]VVhereat she starts like one that spies an adder,
[879]VVreath'd vp in fatall folds iust in his way,
[880]The feare whereof doth make him shake, & shudder,
[881]Euen so the timerous yelping of the hounds,
[882]Appals her senses, and her spirit confounds.

[21]

[883]For now she knowes it is no gentle chase,
[884]But the blunt boare, rough beare, or lyon proud,
[885]Because the crie remaineth in one place,
[886]VVhere fearefully the dogs exclaime aloud,
[887]Finding their enemie to be so curst,
[888]They all straine curt'sie who shall cope him first.

[889]This dismall crie rings sadly in her eare,
[890]Through which it enters to surprise her hart,
[891]VVho ouercome by doubt, and bloodlesse feare,
[892]VVith cold-pale weakenesse, nums ech feeling part,
[893]Like soldiers when their captain once doth yeeld,
[894]They basely flie, and dare not stay the field.

[895]Thus stands she in a trembling extasie,
[896]Till cheering vp her senses all dismayd,
[897]She tels them tis a causlesse fantasie,
[898]And childish error that they are affrayd,
[899]Bids thē leaue quaking, bids them feare no more,
[900]And with that word, she spide the hunted boare.

[901]VVhose frothie mouth bepainted all with red,
[902]Like milke, & blood, being mingled both togither,
[903]A second feare through all her sinewes spred,
[904]VVhich madly hurries her, she knowes not whither,
[905]This way she runs, and now she will no further,
[906]But backe retires, to rate the boare for murther.

[21]

[907]A thousand spleenes beare her a thousand wayes,
[908]She treads the path, that she vntreads againe;
[909]Her more then hast, is mated with delayes,
[910]Like the proceedings of a drunken braine,
[911]Full of respects, yet naught at all respecting,
[912]In hand with all things, naught at all effecting.

[913]Here kenneld in a brake, she finds a hound,
[914]And askes the wearie caitiffe for his maister,
[915]And there another licking of his wound,
[916]Gainst venimd sores, the onely soueraigne plaister.
[917]And here she meets another, sadly skowling,
[918]To whom she speaks, & he replies with howling.

[919]VVhen he hath ceast his ill resounding noise,
[920]Another flapmouthd mourner, blacke, and grim,
[921]Against the welkin, volies out his voyce,
[922]Another, and another, answer him,
[923]Clapping their proud tailes to the ground below,
[924]Shaking their scratcht-eares, bleeding as they go.

[925]Looke how, the worlds poore people are amazed,
[926]At apparitions, signes, and prodigies,
[927]VVhereon with feareful eyes, they long haue gazed,
[928]Infusing them with dreadfull prophecies;
[929]So she at these sad signes, drawes vp her breath,
[930]And sighing it againe, exclaimes on death.

[22]

[931]Hard fauourd tyrant, ougly, meagre, leane,
[932]Hatefull diuorce of loue, (thus chides she death)
[933]Grim-grinning ghost, earths-worme what dost thou meane?
[934]To stifle beautie, and to steale his breath?
[935]VVho when he liu'd, his breath and beautie set
[936]Glosse on the rose, smell to the violet.

[937]If he be dead, ô no, it cannot be,
[938]Seeing his beautie, thou shouldst strike at it,
[939]Oh yes, it may, thou hast no eyes to see,
[940]But hatefully at randon doest thou hit,
[941]Thy marke is feeble age, but thy false dart,
[942]Mistakes that aime, and cleaues an infants hart.

[943]Hadst thou but bid beware, then he had spoke,
[944]And hearing him, thy power had lost his power,
[945]The destinies will curse thee for this stroke,
[946]They bid thee crop a weed, thou pluckst a flower,
[947]Loues golden arrow at him should haue fled,
[948]And not deaths ebon dart to strike him dead.

[949]Dost thou drink tears, that thou prouok'st such wee­ping,
[950]VVhat may a heauie grone aduantage thee?
[951]VVhy hast thou cast into eternall sleeping,
[952]Those eyes that taught all other eyes to see?
[953]Now nature cares not for thy mortall vigour,
[954]Since her best worke is ruin'd with thy rigour.

[22]

[955]Here ouercome as one full of dispaire,
[956]She vaild her eye-lids, who like sluces stopt
[957]The christall tide, that from her two cheeks faire,
[958]In the sweet channell of her bosome dropt.
[959]But through the floud gates breaks the siluer rain,
[960]And with his strong course opens them againe.

[961]O how her eyes, and teares, did lend, and borrow,
[962]Her eye seene in the teares, teares in her eye,
[963]Both christals, where they viewd ech others sorrow:
[964]Sorrow, that friendly sighs sought still to drye,
[965]But like a stormie day, now wind, now raine,
[966]Sighs drie her cheeks, tears make thē wet againe.

[967]Variable passions throng her constant wo,
[968]As striuing who should best become her griefe,
[969]All entertaind, ech passion labours so,
[970]That euerie present sorrow seemeth chiefe,
[971]But none is best, then ioyne they all together,
[972]Like many clouds, consulting for foule weather.

[973]By this farre off, she heares some huntsman hallow,
[974]A nourses song nere pleasd her babe so well,
[975]The dyre imagination she did follow,
[976]This sound of hope doth labour to expell,
[977]For now reuiuing ioy bids her reioyce,
[978]And flatters her, it is Adonis voyce.

[23]

[979]VVhereat her teares began to turne their tide,
[980]Being prisond in her eye: like pearles in glasse,
[981]Yet sometimes fals an orient drop beside,
[982]VVhich her cheeke melts, as scorning it should passe
[983]To wash the foule face of the sluttish ground,
[984]VVho is but dronken when she seemeth drownd.

[985]O hard beleeuing loue how strange it seemes!
[986]Not to beleeue, and yet too credulous:
[987]Thy weale, and wo, are both of them extreames,
[988]Despaire, and hope, makes thee ridiculous.
[989]The one doth flatter thee in thoughts vnlikely,
[990]In likely thoughts the other kils thee quickly.

[991]Now she vnweaues the web that she hath wrought,
[992]Adonis liues, and death is not to blame:
[993]It was not she that cald him all to nought;
[994]Now she ads honours to his hatefull name.
[995]She clepes him king of graues, & graue for kings,
[996]Imperious supreme of all mortall things.

[997]No, no, quoth she, sweet death, I did but iest,
[998]Yet pardon me, I felt a kind of feare
[999]VVhen as I met the boare, that bloodie beast,
[1000]VVhich knowes no pitie but is still seuere,
[1001]Then gentle shadow (truth I must confesse)
[1002]I rayld on thee, fearing my loues decesse.

[23]

[1003]Tis not my fault, the Bore prouok't my tong,
[1004]Be wreak't on him (inuisible commaunder)
[1005]T'is he foule creature, that hath done thee wrong,
[1006]I did but act, he's author of thy slaunder.
[1007]Greefe hath two tongues, and neuer woman yet,
[1008]Could rule them both, without ten womens wit.

[1009]Thus hoping that Adonis is aliue,
[1010]Her rash suspect she doth extenuate,
[1011]And that his beautie may the better thriue,
[1012]VVith death she humbly doth insinuate.
[1013]Tels him of trophies, statues, tombes, and stories,
[1014]His victories, his triumphs, and his glories.

[1015]O loue quote she, how much a foole was I,
[1016]To be of such a weake and sillie mind,
[1017]To waile his death who liues, and must not die,
[1018]Till mutuall ouerthrow of mortall kind?
[1019]For he being dead, with him is beautie slaine,
[1020]And beautie dead, blacke Chaos comes againe.

[1021]Fy, fy, fond loue, thou art as full of feare,
[1022]As one with treasure laden, hem'd with theeues,
[1023]Trifles vnwitnessed with eye, or eare,
[1024]Thy coward heart with false bethinking greeues.
[1025]Euen at this word she heares a merry horne,
[1026]VVhere at she leaps, that was but late forlorne.

[24]

[1027]As Faulcons to the lure, away she flies,
[1028]The grasse stoops not, she treads on it so light,
[1029]And in her hast, vnfortunately spies,
[1030]The foule boares conquest, on her faire delight,
[1031]VVhich seene, her eyes are murdred with the view,
[1032]Like stars asham'd of day, themselues withdrew.

[1033]Or as the snaile, whose tender hornes being hit,
[1034]Shrinks backward in his shellie caue with paine,
[1035]And, there all smoothred vp, in shade doth sit,
[1036]Long after fearing to creepe forth againe:
[1037]So at his bloodie view her eyes are fled,
[1038]Into the deep-darke cabbins of her head.

[1039]VVhere they resigne their office, and their light,
[1040]To the disposing of her troubled braine,
[1041]VVho bids them still consort with ougly night,
[1042]And neuer wound the heart with lookes againe,
[1043]VVho like a king perplexed in his throne,
[1044]By their suggestion, giues a deadly grone.

[1045]VVhereat ech tributarie subiect quakes,
[1046]As when the wind imprisond in the ground,
[1047]Struggling for passage, earths foundation shakes,
[1048]which with cold terror, doth mens minds confound:
[1049]This mutinie ech part doth so surprise,
[1050]That frō their dark beds once more leap her eies.

[24]

[1051]And being opend, threw vnwilling light,
[1052]Vpon the wide wound, that the boare had trencht
[1053]In his soft flanke, whose wonted lillie white
[1054]VVith purple tears that his wound wept, had drēcht.
[1055]No floure was nigh, no grasse, hearb, leaf, or weed,
[1056]But stole his blood, and seemd with him to bleed.

[1057]This solemne sympathie, poore Venus noteth,
[1058]Ouer one shoulder doth she hang her head,
[1059]Dumblie she passions, frantikely she doteth,
[1060]She thinkes he could not die, he is not dead,
[1061]Her voice is stopt, her ioynts forget to bow,
[1062]Her eyes are mad, that they haue wept till now.

[1063]Vpon his hurt she lookes so stedfastly,
[1064]That her sight dazling, makes the wound seem three,
[1065]And then she reprehends her mangling eye,
[1066]That makes more gashes, where no breach shuld be:
[1067]His face seems twain, ech seuerall lim is doubled,
[1068]For oft the eye mistakes, the brain being troubled

[1069]My tongue cannot expresse my griefe for one,
[1070]And yet (quoth she) behold two Adons dead,
[1071]My sighes are blowne away, my salt teares gone,
[1072]Mine eyes are turn'd to fire, my heart to lead,
[1073]Heauie hearts lead melt at mine eyes red fire,
[1074]So shall I die by drops of hot desire.

[25]

[1075]Alas poore world what treasure hast thou lost,
[1076]VVhat face remains aliue that's worth the viewing?
[1077]VVhose tongue is musick now? what cāst thou boast,
[1078]Of things long since, or any thing insuing?
[1079]The flowers are sweet, their colours fresh, and trim,
[1080]But true sweet beautie liu'd, and di'de with him

[1081]Bonnet, nor vaile henceforth no creature weare,
[1082]Nor sunne, nor wind will euer striue to kisse you,
[1083]Hauing no faire to lose, you need not feare,
[1084]The sun doth skorne you, & the wind doth hisse you,
[1085]But when Adnois liu'de, sunne, and sharpe aire,
[1086]Lurkt like two theeues, to rob him of his faire.

[1087]And therefore would he put his bonnet on,
[1088]Vnder whose brim the gaudie sunne would peepe,
[1089]The wind would blow it off, and being gon,
[1090]Play with his locks, then would Adonis weepe.
[1091]And straight in pittie of his tender yeares,
[1092]They both would striue who first should drie his teares.

[1093]To see his face the Lion walkt along,
[1094]Behind some hedge, because he would not fear him:
[1095]To recreate himself when he hath song,
[1096]The Tygre would be tame, and gently heare him.
[1097]If he had spoke, the wolfe would leaue his praie,
[1098]And neuer fright the sillie lambe that daie.

[25]

[1099]VVhen he beheld his shadow in the brooke,
[1100]The fishes spread on it their golden gils,
[1101]VVhen he was by the birds such pleasure tooke,
[1102]That some would sing, some other in their bils
[1103]VVould bring him mulberries & ripe-red cherries,
[1104]He fed them with his sight, they him with berries.

[1105]But this foule, grim, and vrchin-snowted Boare,
[1106]VVhose downeward eye still looketh for a graue:
[1107]Ne're saw the beautious liuerie that he wore,
[1108]VVitnesse the intertainment that he gaue.
[1109]If he did see his face, why then I know,
[1110]He thought to kisse him, and hath kild him so.

[1111]Tis true, tis true, thus was Adnois slaine,
[1112]He ran vpon the Boare with his sharpe speare,
[1113]VVho did not whet his teeth at him againe,
[1114]But by a kisse thought to persuade him there.
[1115]And nousling in his flanke the louing swine,
[1116]Sheath'd vnaware the tuske in his soft groine.

[1117]Had I bin tooth'd like him I must confesse,
[1118]VVith kissing him I should haue kild him first,
[1119]But he is dead, and neuer did he blesse
[1120]My youth with his, the more am I accurst.
[1121]VVith this she falleth in the place she stood,
[1122]And staines her faice with his congealed bloud.

[26]

[1123]She lookes vpon his lips, and they are pale,
[1124]She takes him by the hand, and that is cold,
[1125]She whispers in his eares a heauie tale,
[1126]As if they heard the wofull words she told:
[1127]She lifts the coffer-lids that close his eyes,
[1128]VVhere lo, two lamps burnt out in darknesse lies.

[1129]Two glasses where her selfe, her selfe beheld
[1130]A thousand times, and now no more reflect,
[1131]Their vertue lost, wherein they late exceld,
[1132]And euerie beautie robd of his effect;
[1133]VVonder of time (quoth she) this is my spight,
[1134]That thou being dead, the day shuld yet be light.

[1135]Since thou art dead, lo here I prophecie,
[1136]Sorrow on loue hereafter shall attend:
[1137]It shall be wayted on with iealousie,
[1138]Find sweet beginning, but vnsauorie end.
[1139]Nere setled equally, but high or lo,
[1140]That all loues pleasure shall not match his wo.

[1141]It shall be fickle, false, and full of fraud,
[1142]Bud, and be blasted, in a breathing while,
[1143]The bottome poyson, and the top ore-strawd
[1144]VVith sweets, that shall the truest sight beguile,
[1145]The strongest bodie shall it make most weake,
[1146]Strike the wise dūbe, & teach the foole to speake.

[26]

[1147]It shall be sparing, and too full of ryot,
[1148]Teaching decrepit age to tread the measures,
[1149]The staring ruffian shall it keepe in quiet,
[1150]Pluck down the rich, inrich the poore with treasures,
[1151]It shall be raging mad, and sillie milde,
[1152]Make the yoong old, the old become a childe.

[1153]It shall suspect where is no cause of feare,
[1154]It shall not feare where it should most mistrust,
[1155]It shall be mercifull, and too seueare,
[1156]And most deceiuing, when it seemes most iust,
[1157]Peruerse it shall be, where it showes most toward,
[1158]Put feare to valour, courage to the coward.

[1159]It shall be cause of warre, and dire euents,
[1160]And set dissention twixt the sonne, and sire,
[1161]Subiect, and seruill to all discontents:
[1162]As drie combustious matter is to fire,
[1163]Sith in his prime, death doth my loue destroy,
[1164]They that loue best, their loues shall not enioy.

[1165]By this the boy that by her side laie kild,
[1166]VVas melted like a vapour from her sight,
[1167]And in his blood that on the ground laie spild,
[1168]A purple floure sproong vp, checkred with white,
[1169]Resembling well his pale cheekes, and the blood,
[1170]VVhich in round drops, vpō their whitenesse stood.

[27]

[1171]She bowes her head, the new-sprong floure to smel,
[1172]Comparing it to her Adonis breath,
[1173]And saies within her bosome it shall dwell,
[1174]Since he himselfe is reft from her by death;
[1175]She crop's the stalke, and in the breach appeares,
[1176]Green-dropping sap, which she cōpares to teares.

[1177]Poore floure (quoth she) this was thy fathers guise,
[1178]Sweet issue of a more sweet smelling sire,
[1179]For euerie little griefe to wet his eies,
[1180]To grow vnto himselfe was his desire;
[1181]And so tis thine, but know it is as good,
[1182]To wither in my brest, as in his blood.

[1183]Here was thy fathers bed, here in my brest,
[1184]Thou art the next of blood, and tis thy right.
[1185]Lo in this hollow cradle take thy rest,
[1186]My throbbing hart shall rock thee day and night;
[1187]There shall not be one minute in an houre,
[1188]VVherein I wil not kisse my sweet loues floure.

[1189]Thus weary of the world, away she hies,
[1190]And yokes her siluer doues, by whose swift aide,
[1191]Their mistresse mounted through the emptie skies,
[1192]In her light chariot, quickly is conuaide,
[1193]Holding their course to Paphos, where their queen,
[1194]Meanes to immure her selfe, and not be seen.