1
'Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo
2
Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.'
4
RIGHT HONORABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY,
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EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, AND BARON OF TICHFIELD.
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I KNOW not how I shall offend in dedicating my
8
unpolished lines to your lordship, nor how the world will
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censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a
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burden only, if your honour seem but pleased, I account
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myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle
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hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if
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the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be
14
sorry it had so noble a god-father, and never after ear so
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barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest.
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I leave it to your honourable survey, and your honour to your
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heart's content; which I wish may always answer your own wish
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and the world's hopeful expectation.
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Your honour's in all duty,
1
Shakespeare. Even as the sun with purple-colour'd face
2
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
3
Rose-cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase;
4
Hunting he loved, but love he laugh'd to scorn;
5
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
6
And like a bold-faced suitor 'gins to woo him.
7
'Thrice-fairer than myself,' thus she began,
8
'The field's chief flower, sweet above compare,
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Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man,
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More white and red than doves or roses are;
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Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,
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Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.
13
'Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
14
And rein his proud head to the saddle-bow;
15
If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed
16
A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know:
17
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses,
18
And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses;
19
'And yet not cloy thy lips with loathed satiety,
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But rather famish them amid their plenty,
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Making them red and pale with fresh variety,
22
Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty:
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A summer's day will seem an hour but short,
24
Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport.'
25
With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
26
The precedent of pith and livelihood,
27
And trembling in her passion, calls it balm,
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Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good:
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Being so enraged, desire doth lend her force
30
Courageously to pluck him from his horse.
31
Over one arm the lusty courser's rein,
32
Under her other was the tender boy,
33
Who blush'd and pouted in a dull disdain,
34
With leaden appetite, unapt to toy;
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She red and hot as coals of glowing fire,
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He red for shame, but frosty in desire.
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The studded bridle on a ragged bough
38
Nimbly she fastens:--O, how quick is love!--
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The steed is stalled up, and even now
40
To tie the rider she begins to prove:
41
Backward she push'd him, as she would be thrust,
42
And govern'd him in strength, though not in lust.
43
So soon was she along as he was down,
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Each leaning on their elbows and their hips:
45
Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he frown,
46
And 'gins to chide, but soon she stops his lips;
47
And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken,
48
'If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open.'
49
He burns with bashful shame: she with her tears
50
Doth quench the maiden burning of his cheeks;
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Then with her windy sighs and golden hairs
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To fan and blow them dry again she seeks:
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He saith she is immodest, blames her 'miss;
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What follows more she murders with a kiss.
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Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast,
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Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh and bone,
57
Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste,
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Till either gorge be stuff'd or prey be gone;
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Even so she kissed his brow, his cheek, his chin,
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And where she ends she doth anew begin.
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Forced to content, but never to obey,
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Panting he lies and breatheth in her face;
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She feedeth on the steam as on a prey,
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And calls it heavenly moisture, air of grace;
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Wishing her cheeks were gardens full of flowers,
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So they were dew'd with such distilling showers.
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Look, how a bird lies tangled in a net,
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So fasten'd in her arms Adonis lies;
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Pure shame and awed resistance made him fret,
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Which bred more beauty in his angry eyes:
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Rain added to a river that is rank
72
Perforce will force it overflow the bank.
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Still she entreats, and prettily entreats,
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For to a pretty ear she tunes her tale;
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Still is he sullen, still he lours and frets,
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'Twixt crimson shame and anger ashy-pale:
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Being red, she loves him best; and being white,
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Her best is better'd with a more delight.
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Look how he can, she cannot choose but love;
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And by her fair immortal hand she swears,
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From his soft bosom never to remove,
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Till he take truce with her contending tears,
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Which long have rain'd, making her cheeks all wet;
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And one sweet kiss shall pay this countless debt.
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Upon this promise did he raise his chin,
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Like a dive-dapper peering through a wave,
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Who, being look'd on, ducks as quickly in;
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So offers he to give what she did crave;
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But when her lips were ready for his pay,
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He winks, and turns his lips another way.
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Never did passenger in summer's heat
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More thirst for drink than she for this good turn.
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Her help she sees, but help she cannot get;
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She bathes in water, yet her fire must burn:
95
'O, pity,' 'gan she cry, 'flint-hearted boy!
96
'Tis but a kiss I beg; why art thou coy?
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'I have been woo'd, as I entreat thee now,
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Even by the stern and direful god of war,
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Whose sinewy neck in battle ne'er did bow,
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Who conquers where he comes in every jar;
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Yet hath he been my captive and my slave,
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And begg'd for that which thou unask'd shalt have.
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'Over my altars hath he hung his lance,
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His batter'd shield, his uncontrolled crest,
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And for my sake hath learn'd to sport and dance,
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To toy, to wanton, dally, smile and jest,
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Scorning his churlish drum and ensign red,
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Making my arms his field, his tent my bed.
109
'Thus he that overruled I oversway'd,
110
Leading him prisoner in a red-rose chain:
111
Strong-tempered steel his stronger strength obey'd,
112
Yet was he servile to my coy disdain.
113
O, be not proud, nor brag not of thy might,
114
For mastering her that foil'd the god of fight!
115
'Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine,--
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Though mine be not so fair, yet are they red--
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The kiss shall be thine own as well as mine.
118
What seest thou in the ground? hold up thy head:
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Look in mine eye-balls, there thy beauty lies;
120
Then why not lips on lips, since eyes in eyes?
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'Art thou ashamed to kiss? then wink again,
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And I will wink; so shall the day seem night;
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Love keeps his revels where they are but twain;
124
Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight:
125
These blue-vein'd violets whereon we lean
126
Never can blab, nor know not what we mean.
127
'The tender spring upon thy tempting lip
128
Shows thee unripe; yet mayst thou well be tasted:
129
Make use of time, let not advantage slip;
130
Beauty within itself should not be wasted:
131
Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime
132
Rot and consume themselves in little time.
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'Were I hard-favour'd, foul, or wrinkled-old,
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Ill-nurtured, crooked, churlish, harsh in voice,
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O'erworn, despised, rheumatic and cold,
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Thick-sighted, barren, lean and lacking juice,
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Then mightst thou pause, for then I were not for thee
138
But having no defects, why dost abhor me?
139
'Thou canst not see one wrinkle in my brow;
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Mine eyes are gray and bright and quick in turning:
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My beauty as the spring doth yearly grow,
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My flesh is soft and plump, my marrow burning;
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My smooth moist hand, were it with thy hand felt,
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Would in thy palm dissolve, or seem to melt.
145
'Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear,
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Or, like a fairy, trip upon the green,
147
Or, like a nymph, with long dishevell'd hair,
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Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen:
149
Love is a spirit all compact of fire,
150
Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire.
151
'Witness this primrose bank whereon I lie;
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These forceless flowers like sturdy trees support me;
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Two strengthless doves will draw me through the sky,
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From morn till night, even where I list to sport me:
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Is love so light, sweet boy, and may it be
156
That thou shouldst think it heavy unto thee?
157
'Is thine own heart to thine own face affected?
158
Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left?
159
Then woo thyself, be of thyself rejected,
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Steal thine own freedom and complain on theft.
161
Narcissus so himself himself forsook,
162
And died to kiss his shadow in the brook.
163
'Torches are made to light, jewels to wear,
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Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use,
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Herbs for their smell, and sappy plants to bear:
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Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse:
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Seeds spring from seeds and beauty breedeth beauty;
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Thou wast begot; to get it is thy duty.
169
'Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed,
170
Unless the earth with thy increase be fed?
171
By law of nature thou art bound to breed,
172
That thine may live when thou thyself art dead;
173
And so, in spite of death, thou dost survive,
174
In that thy likeness still is left alive.'
175
By this the love-sick queen began to sweat,
176
For where they lay the shadow had forsook them,
177
And Titan, tired in the mid-day heat,
178
With burning eye did hotly overlook them;
179
Wishing Adonis had his team to guide,
180
So he were like him and by Venus' side.
181
And now Adonis, with a lazy spright,
182
And with a heavy, dark, disliking eye,
183
His louring brows o'erwhelming his fair sight,
184
Like misty vapours when they blot the sky,
185
Souring his cheeks cries 'Fie, no more of love!
186
The sun doth burn my face: I must remove.'
187
'Ay me,' quoth Venus, 'young, and so unkind?
188
What bare excuses makest thou to be gone!
189
I'll sigh celestial breath, whose gentle wind
190
Shall cool the heat of this descending sun:
191
I'll make a shadow for thee of my hairs;
192
If they burn too, I'll quench them with my tears.
193
'The sun that shines from heaven shines but warm,
194
And, lo, I lie between that sun and thee:
195
The heat I have from thence doth little harm,
196
Thine eye darts forth the fire that burneth me;
197
And were I not immortal, life were done
198
Between this heavenly and earthly sun.
199
'Art thou obdurate, flinty, hard as steel,
200
Nay, more than flint, for stone at rain relenteth?
201
Art thou a woman's son, and canst not feel
202
What 'tis to love? how want of love tormenteth?
203
O, had thy mother borne so hard a mind,
204
She had not brought forth thee, but died unkind.
205
'What am I, that thou shouldst contemn me this?
206
Or what great danger dwells upon my suit?
207
What were thy lips the worse for one poor kiss?
208
Speak, fair; but speak fair words, or else be mute:
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Give me one kiss, I'll give it thee again,
210
And one for interest, if thou wilt have twain.
211
'Fie, lifeless picture, cold and senseless stone,
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Well-painted idol, image dun and dead,
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Statue contenting but the eye alone,
214
Thing like a man, but of no woman bred!
215
Thou art no man, though of a man's complexion,
216
For men will kiss even by their own direction.'
217
This said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue,
218
And swelling passion doth provoke a pause;
219
Red cheeks and fiery eyes blaze forth he wrong;
220
Being judge in love, she cannot right her cause:
221
And now she weeps, and now she fain would speak,
222
And now her sobs do her intendments break.
223
Sometimes she shakes her head and then his hand,
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Now gazeth she on him, now on the ground;
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Sometimes her arms infold him like a band:
226
She would, he will not in her arms be bound;
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And when from thence he struggles to be gone,
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She locks her lily fingers one in one.
229
'Fondling,' she saith, 'since I have hemm'd thee here
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Within the circuit of this ivory pale,
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I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer;
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Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale:
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Graze on my lips; and if those hills be dry,
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Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.
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Within this limit is relief enough,
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Sweet bottom-grass and high delightful plain,
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Round rising hillocks, brakes obscure and rough,
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To shelter thee from tempest and from rain
239
Then be my deer, since I am such a park;
240
No dog shall rouse thee, though a thousand bark.'
241
At this Adonis smiles as in disdain,
242
That in each cheek appears a pretty dimple:
243
Love made those hollows, if himself were slain,
244
He might be buried in a tomb so simple;
245
Foreknowing well, if there he came to lie,
246
Why, there Love lived and there he could not die.
247
These lovely caves, these round enchanting pits,
248
Open'd their mouths to swallow Venus' liking.
249
Being mad before, how doth she now for wits?
250
Struck dead at first, what needs a second striking?
251
Poor queen of love, in thine own law forlorn,
252
To love a cheek that smiles at thee in scorn!
253
Now which way shall she turn? what shall she say?
254
Her words are done, her woes are more increasing;
255
The time is spent, her object will away,
256
And from her twining arms doth urge releasing.
257
'Pity,' she cries, 'some favour, some remorse!'
258
Away he springs and hasteth to his horse.
259
But, lo, from forth a copse that neighbors by,
260
A breeding jennet, lusty, young and proud,
261
Adonis' trampling courser doth espy,
262
And forth she rushes, snorts and neighs aloud:
263
The strong-neck'd steed, being tied unto a tree,
264
Breaketh his rein, and to her straight goes he.
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Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds,
266
And now his woven girths he breaks asunder;
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The bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds,
268
Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven's thunder;
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The iron bit he crusheth 'tween his teeth,
270
Controlling what he was controlled with.
271
His ears up-prick'd; his braided hanging mane
272
Upon his compass'd crest now stand on end;
273
His nostrils drink the air, and forth again,
274
As from a furnace, vapours doth he send:
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His eye, which scornfully glisters like fire,
276
Shows his hot courage and his high desire.
277
Sometime he trots, as if he told the steps,
278
With gentle majesty and modest pride;
279
Anon he rears upright, curvets and leaps,
280
As who should say 'Lo, thus my strength is tried,
281
And this I do to captivate the eye
282
Of the fair breeder that is standing by.'
283
What recketh he his rider's angry stir,
284
His flattering 'Holla,' or his 'Stand, I say'?
285
What cares he now for curb or pricking spur?
286
For rich caparisons or trapping gay?
287
He sees his love, and nothing else he sees,
288
For nothing else with his proud sight agrees.
289
Look, when a painter would surpass the life,
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In limning out a well-proportion'd steed,
291
His art with nature's workmanship at strife,
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As if the dead the living should exceed;
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So did this horse excel a common one
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In shape, in courage, colour, pace and bone.
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Round-hoof'd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long,
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Broad breast, full eye, small head and nostril wide,
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High crest, short ears, straight legs and passing strong,
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Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide:
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Look, what a horse should have he did not lack,
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Save a proud rider on so proud a back.
301
Sometime he scuds far off and there he stares;
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Anon he starts at stirring of a feather;
303
To bid the wind a base he now prepares,
304
And whether he run or fly they know not whether;
305
For through his mane and tail the high wind sings,
306
Fanning the hairs, who wave like feather'd wings.
307
He looks upon his love and neighs unto her;
308
She answers him as if she knew his mind:
309
Being proud, as females are, to see him woo her,
310
She puts on outward strangeness, seems unkind,
311
Spurns at his love and scorns the heat he feels,
312
Beating his kind embracements with her heels.
313
Then, like a melancholy malcontent,
314
He veils his tail that, like a falling plume,
315
Cool shadow to his melting buttock lent:
316
He stamps and bites the poor flies in his fume.
317
His love, perceiving how he is enraged,
318
Grew kinder, and his fury was assuaged.
319
His testy master goeth about to take him;
320
When, lo, the unback'd breeder, full of fear,
321
Jealous of catching, swiftly doth forsake him,
322
With her the horse, and left Adonis there:
323
As they were mad, unto the wood they hie them,
324
Out-stripping crows that strive to over-fly them.
325
All swoln with chafing, down Adonis sits,
326
Banning his boisterous and unruly beast:
327
And now the happy season once more fits,
328
That love-sick Love by pleading may be blest;
329
For lovers say, the heart hath treble wrong
330
When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue.
331
An oven that is stopp'd, or river stay'd,
332
Burneth more hotly, swelleth with more rage:
333
So of concealed sorrow may be said;
334
Free vent of words love's fire doth assuage;
335
But when the heart's attorney once is mute,
336
The client breaks, as desperate in his suit.
337
He sees her coming, and begins to glow,
338
Even as a dying coal revives with wind,
339
And with his bonnet hides his angry brow;
340
Looks on the dull earth with disturbed mind,
341
Taking no notice that she is so nigh,
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 hue,
346
How white and red each other did destroy!
347
But now her cheek was pale, and by and by
348
It flash'd forth fire, as lightning from the sky.
349
Now was she just before him as he sat,
350
And like a lowly lover down she kneels;
351
With one fair hand she heaveth up his hat,
352
Her other tender hand his fair cheek feels:
353
His tenderer cheek receives her soft hand's print,
354
As apt as new-fall'n snow takes any dint.
355
O, what a war of looks was then between them!
356
Her eyes petitioners to his eyes suing;
357
His eyes saw her eyes as they had not seen them;
358
Her eyes woo'd still, his eyes disdain'd the wooing:
359
And all this dumb play had his acts made plain
360
With tears, which, chorus-like, her eyes did rain.
361
Full gently now she takes him by the hand,
362
A lily prison'd in a gaol of snow,
363
Or ivory in an alabaster band;
364
So white a friend engirts so white a foe:
365
This beauteous combat, wilful and unwilling,
366
Show'd like two silver doves that sit a-billing.
367
Once more the engine of her thoughts began:
368
'O fairest mover on this mortal round,
369
Would thou wert as I am, and I a man,
370
My heart all whole as thine, thy heart my wound;
371
For one sweet look thy help I would assure thee,
372
Though nothing but my body's bane would cure thee!
373
'Give me my hand,' saith he, 'why dost thou feel it?'
374
'Give me my heart,' saith she, 'and thou shalt have it:
375
O, give it me, lest thy hard heart do steel it,
376
And being steel'd, soft sighs can never grave it:
377
Then love's deep groans I never shall regard,
378
Because Adonis' heart hath made mine hard.'
379
'For shame,' he cries, 'let go, and let me go;
380
My day's delight is past, my horse is gone,
381
And 'tis your fault I am bereft him so:
382
I pray you hence, and leave me here alone;
383
For all my mind, my thought, my busy care,
384
Is how to get my palfrey from the mare.'
385
Thus she replies: 'Thy palfrey, as he should,
386
Welcomes the warm approach of sweet desire:
387
Affection is a coal that must be cool'd;
388
Else, suffer'd, it will set the heart on fire:
389
The sea hath bounds, but deep desire hath none;
390
Therefore no marvel though thy horse be gone.
391
'How like a jade he stood, tied to the tree,
392
Servilely master'd with a leathern rein!
393
But when he saw his love, his youth's fair fee,
394
He held such petty bondage in disdain;
395
Throwing the base thong from his bending crest,
396
Enfranchising his mouth, his back, his breast.
397
'Who sees his true-love in her naked bed,
398
Teaching the sheets a whiter hue than white,
399
But, when his glutton eye so full hath fed,
400
His other agents aim at like delight?
401
Who is so faint, that dare not be so bold
402
To touch the fire, the weather being cold?
403
'Let me excuse thy courser, gentle boy;
404
And learn of him, I heartily beseech thee,
405
To take advantage on presented joy;
406
Though I were dumb, yet his proceedings teach thee;
407
O, learn to love; the lesson is but plain,
408
And once made perfect, never lost again.'
409
I know not love,' quoth he, 'nor will not know it,
410
Unless it be a boar, and then I chase it;
411
'Tis much to borrow, and I will not owe it;
412
My love to love is love but to disgrace it;
413
For I have heard it is a life in death,
414
That laughs and weeps, and all but with a breath.
415
'Who wears a garment shapeless and unfinish'd?
416
Who plucks the bud before one leaf put forth?
417
If springing things be any jot diminish'd,
418
They wither in their prime, prove nothing worth:
419
The colt that's back'd and burden'd being young
420
Loseth his pride and never waxeth strong.
421
'You hurt my hand with wringing; let us part,
422
And leave this idle theme, this bootless chat:
423
Remove your siege from my unyielding heart;
424
To love's alarms it will not ope the gate:
425
Dismiss your vows, your feigned tears, your flattery;
426
For where a heart is hard they make no battery.'
427
'What! canst thou talk?' quoth she, 'hast thou a tongue?
428
O, would thou hadst not, or I had no hearing!
429
Thy mermaid's voice hath done me double wrong;
430
I had my load before, now press'd with bearing:
431
Melodious discord, heavenly tune harshsounding,
432
Ear's deep-sweet music, and heart's deep-sore wounding.
433
'Had I no eyes but ears, my ears would love
434
That inward beauty and invisible;
435
Or were I deaf, thy outward parts would move
436
Each part in me that were but sensible:
437
Though neither eyes nor ears, to hear nor see,
438
Yet should I be in love by touching thee.
439
'Say, that the sense of feeling were bereft me,
440
And that I could not see, nor hear, nor touch,
441
And nothing but the very smell were left me,
442
Yet would my love to thee be still as much;
443
For from the stillitory of thy face excelling
444
Comes breath perfumed that breedeth love by
446
'But, O, what banquet wert thou to the taste,
447
Being nurse and feeder of the other four!
448
Would they not wish the feast might ever last,
449
And bid Suspicion double-lock the door,
450
Lest Jealousy, that sour unwelcome guest,
451
Should, by his stealing in, disturb the feast?'
452
Once more the ruby-colour'd portal open'd,
453
Which to his speech did honey passage yield;
454
Like a red morn, that ever yet betoken'd
455
Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field,
456
Sorrow to shepherds, woe unto the birds,
457
Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds.
458
This ill presage advisedly she marketh:
459
Even as the wind is hush'd before it raineth,
460
Or as the wolf doth grin before he barketh,
461
Or as the berry breaks before it staineth,
462
Or like the deadly bullet of a gun,
463
His meaning struck her ere his words begun.
464
And at his look she flatly falleth down,
465
For looks kill love and love by looks reviveth;
466
A smile recures the wounding of a frown;
467
But blessed bankrupt, that by love so thriveth!
468
The silly boy, believing she is dead,
469
Claps her pale cheek, till clapping makes it red;
470
And all amazed brake off his late intent,
471
For sharply he did think to reprehend her,
472
Which cunning love did wittily prevent:
473
Fair fall the wit that can so well defend her!
474
For on the grass she lies as she were slain,
475
Till his breath breatheth life in her again.
476
He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheeks,
477
He bends her fingers, holds her pulses hard,
478
He chafes her lips; a thousand ways he seeks
479
To mend the hurt that his unkindness marr'd:
480
He kisses her; and she, by her good will,
481
Will never rise, so he will kiss her still.
482
The night of sorrow now is turn'd to day:
483
Her two blue windows faintly she up-heaveth,
484
Like the fair sun, when in his fresh array
485
He cheers the morn and all the earth relieveth;
486
And as the bright sun glorifies the sky,
487
So is her face illumined with her eye;
488
Whose beams upon his hairless face are fix'd,
489
As if from thence they borrow'd all their shine.
490
Were never four such lamps together mix'd,
491
Had not his clouded with his brow's repine;
492
But hers, which through the crystal tears gave light,
493
Shone like the moon in water seen by night.
494
'O, where am I?' quoth she, 'in earth or heaven,
495
Or in the ocean drench'd, or in the fire?
496
What hour is this? or morn or weary even?
497
Do I delight to die, or life desire?
498
But now I lived, and life was death's annoy;
499
But now I died, and death was lively joy.
500
'O, thou didst kill me: kill me once again:
501
Thy eyes' shrewd tutor, that hard heart of thine,
502
Hath taught them scornful tricks and such disdain
503
That they have murder'd this poor heart of mine;
504
And these mine eyes, true leaders to their queen,
505
But for thy piteous lips no more had seen.
506
'Long may they kiss each other, for this cure!
507
O, never let their crimson liveries wear!
508
And as they last, their verdure still endure,
509
To drive infection from the dangerous year!
510
That the star-gazers, having writ on death,
511
May say, the plague is banish'd by thy breath.
512
'Pure lips, sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted,
513
What bargains may I make, still to be sealing?
514
To sell myself I can be well contented,
515
So thou wilt buy and pay and use good dealing;
516
Which purchase if thou make, for fear of slips
517
Set thy seal-manual on my wax-red lips.
518
'A thousand kisses buys my heart from me;
519
And pay them at thy leisure, one by one.
520
What is ten hundred touches unto thee?
521
Are they not quickly told and quickly gone?
522
Say, for non-payment that the debt should double,
523
Is twenty hundred kisses such a trouble?
524
'Fair queen,' quoth he, 'if any love you owe me,
525
Measure my strangeness with my unripe years:
526
Before I know myself, seek not to know me;
527
No fisher but the ungrown fry forbears:
528
The mellow plum doth fall, the green sticks fast,
529
Or being early pluck'd is sour to taste.
530
'Look, the world's comforter, with weary gait,
531
His day's hot task hath ended in the west;
532
The owl, night's herald, shrieks, 'Tis very late;'
533
The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest,
534
And coal-black clouds that shadow heaven's light
535
Do summon us to part and bid good night.
536
'Now let me say 'Good night,' and so say you;
537
If you will say so, you shall have a kiss.'
538
'Good night,' quoth she, and, ere he says 'Adieu,'
539
The honey fee of parting tender'd is:
540
Her arms do lend his neck a sweet embrace;
541
Incorporate then they seem; face grows to face.
542
Till, breathless, he disjoin'd, and backward drew
543
The heavenly moisture, that sweet coral mouth,
544
Whose precious taste her thirsty lips well knew,
545
Whereon they surfeit, yet complain on drouth:
546
He with her plenty press'd, she faint with dearth
547
Their lips together glued, fall to the earth.
548
Now quick desire hath caught the yielding prey,
549
And glutton-like she feeds, yet never filleth;
550
Her lips are conquerors, his lips obey,
551
Paying what ransom the insulter willeth;
552
Whose vulture thought doth pitch the price so high,
553
That she will draw his lips' rich treasure dry:
554
And having felt the sweetness of the spoil,
555
With blindfold fury she begins to forage;
556
Her face doth reek and smoke, her blood doth boil,
557
And careless lust stirs up a desperate courage,
558
Planting oblivion, beating reason back,
559
Forgetting shame's pure blush and honour's wrack.
560
Hot, faint, and weary, with her hard embracing,
561
Like a wild bird being tamed with too much handling,
562
Or as the fleet-foot roe that's tired with chasing,
563
Or like the froward infant still'd with dandling,
564
He now obeys, and now no more resisteth,
565
While she takes all she can, not all she listeth.
566
What wax so frozen but dissolves with tempering,
567
And yields at last to every light impression?
568
Things out of hope are compass'd oft with venturing,
569
Chiefly in love, whose leave exceeds commission:
570
Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward,
571
But then woos best when most his choice is froward.
572
When he did frown, O, had she then gave over,
573
Such nectar from his lips she had not suck'd.
574
Foul words and frowns must not repel a lover;
575
What though the rose have prickles, yet 'tis pluck'd:
576
Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast,
577
Yet love breaks through and picks them all at last.
578
For pity now she can no more detain him;
579
The poor fool prays her that he may depart:
580
She is resolved no longer to restrain him;
581
Bids him farewell, and look well to her heart,
582
The which, by Cupid's bow she doth protest,
583
He carries thence incaged in his breast.
584
'Sweet boy,' she says, 'this night I'll waste in sorrow,
585
For my sick heart commands mine eyes to watch.
586
Tell me, Love's master, shall we meet to-morrow?
587
Say, shall we? shall we? wilt thou make the match?'
588
He tells her, no; to-morrow he intends
589
To hunt the boar with certain of his friends.
590
'The boar!' quoth she; whereat a sudden pale,
591
Like lawn being spread upon the blushing rose,
592
Usurps her cheek; she trembles at his tale,
593
And on his neck her yoking arms she throws:
594
She sinketh down, still hanging by his neck,
595
He on her belly falls, she on her back.
596
Now is she in the very lists of love,
597
Her champion mounted for the hot encounter:
598
All is imaginary she doth prove,
599
He will not manage her, although he mount her;
600
That worse than Tantalus' is her annoy,
601
To clip Elysium and to lack her joy.
602
Even as poor birds, deceived with painted grapes,
603
Do surfeit by the eye and pine the maw,
604
Even so she languisheth in her mishaps,
605
As those poor birds that helpless berries saw.
606
The warm effects which she in him finds missing
607
She seeks to kindle with continual kissing.
608
But all in vain; good queen, it will not be:
609
She hath assay'd as much as may be proved;
610
Her pleading hath deserved a greater fee;
611
She's Love, she loves, and yet she is not loved.
612
'Fie, fie,' he says, 'you crush me; let me go;
613
You have no reason to withhold me so.'
614
'Thou hadst been gone,' quoth she, 'sweet boy, ere this,
615
But that thou told'st me thou wouldst hunt the boar.
616
O, be advised! thou know'st not what it is
617
With javelin's point a churlish swine to gore,
618
Whose tushes never sheathed he whetteth still,
619
Like to a mortal butcher bent to kill.
620
'On his bow-back he hath a battle set
621
Of bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes;
622
His eyes, like glow-worms, shine when he doth fret;
623
His snout digs sepulchres where'er he goes;
624
Being moved, he strikes whate'er is in his way,
625
And whom he strikes his cruel tushes slay.
626
'His brawny sides, with hairy bristles arm'd,
627
Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter;
628
His short thick neck cannot be easily harm'd;
629
Being ireful, on the lion he will venture:
630
The thorny brambles and embracing bushes,
631
As fearful of him, part, through whom he rushes.
632
'Alas, he nought esteems that face of thine,
633
To which Love's eyes pay tributary gazes;
634
Nor thy soft hands, sweet lips and crystal eyne,
635
Whose full perfection all the world amazes;
636
But having thee at vantage,--wondrous dread!--
637
Would root these beauties as he roots the mead.
638
'O, let him keep his loathsome cabin still;
639
Beauty hath nought to do with such foul fiends:
640
Come not within his danger by thy will;
641
They that thrive well take counsel of their friends.
642
When thou didst name the boar, not to dissemble,
643
I fear'd thy fortune, and my joints did tremble.
644
'Didst thou not mark my face? was it not white?
645
Saw'st thou not signs of fear lurk in mine eye?
646
Grew I not faint? and fell I not downright?
647
Within my bosom, whereon thou dost lie,
648
My boding heart pants, beats, and takes no rest,
649
But, like an earthquake, shakes thee on my breast.
650
'For where Love reigns, disturbing Jealousy
651
Doth call himself Affection's sentinel;
652
Gives false alarms, suggesteth mutiny,
653
And in a peaceful hour doth cry 'Kill, kill!'
654
Distempering gentle Love in his desire,
655
As air and water do abate the fire.
656
'This sour informer, this bate-breeding spy,
657
This canker that eats up Love's tender spring,
658
This carry-tale, dissentious Jealousy,
659
That sometime true news, sometime false doth bring,
660
Knocks at my heat and whispers in mine ear
661
That if I love thee, I thy death should fear:
662
'And more than so, presenteth to mine eye
663
The picture of an angry-chafing boar,
664
Under whose sharp fangs on his back doth lie
665
An image like thyself, all stain'd with gore;
666
Whose blood upon the fresh flowers being shed
667
Doth make them droop with grief and hang the head.
668
'What should I do, seeing thee so indeed,
669
That tremble at the imagination?
670
The thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed,
671
And fear doth teach it divination:
672
I prophesy thy death, my living sorrow,
673
If thou encounter with the boar to-morrow.
674
'But if thou needs wilt hunt, be ruled by me;
675
Uncouple at the timorous flying hare,
676
Or at the fox which lives by subtlety,
677
Or at the roe which no encounter dare:
678
Pursue these fearful creatures o'er the downs,
679
And on thy well-breath'd horse keep with thy
681
'And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare,
682
Mark the poor wretch, to overshoot his troubles
683
How he outruns the wind and with what care
684
He cranks and crosses with a thousand doubles:
685
The many musets through the which he goes
686
Are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes.
687
'Sometime he runs among a flock of sheep,
688
To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell,
689
And sometime where earth-delving conies keep,
690
To stop the loud pursuers in their yell,
691
And sometime sorteth with a herd of deer:
692
Danger deviseth shifts; wit waits on fear:
693
'For there his smell with others being mingled,
694
The hot scent-snuffing hounds are driven to doubt,
695
Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singled
696
With much ado the cold fault cleanly out;
697
Then do they spend their mouths: Echo replies,
698
As if another chase were in the skies.
699
'By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill,
700
Stands on his hinder legs with listening ear,
701
To harken if his foes pursue him still:
702
Anon their loud alarums he doth hear;
703
And now his grief may be compared well
704
To one sore sick that hears the passing-bell.
705
'Then shalt thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch
706
Turn, and return, indenting with the way;
707
Each envious brier his weary legs doth scratch,
708
Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay:
709
For misery is trodden on by many,
710
And being low never relieved by any.
711
'Lie quietly, and hear a little more;
712
Nay, do not struggle, for thou shalt not rise:
713
To make thee hate the hunting of the boar,
714
Unlike myself thou hear'st me moralize,
715
Applying this to that, and so to so;
716
For love can comment upon every woe.
717
'Where did I leave?' 'No matter where,' quoth he,
718
'Leave me, and then the story aptly ends:
719
The night is spent.' 'Why, what of that?' quoth she.
720
'I am,' quoth he, 'expected of my friends;
721
And now 'tis dark, and going I shall fall.'
722
'In night,' quoth she, 'desire sees best of all
723
'But if thou fall, O, then imagine this,
724
The earth, in love with thee, thy footing trips,
725
And all is but to rob thee of a kiss.
726
Rich preys make true men thieves; so do thy lips
727
Make modest Dian cloudy and forlorn,
728
Lest she should steal a kiss and die forsworn.
729
'Now of this dark night I perceive the reason:
730
Cynthia for shame obscures her silver shine,
731
Till forging Nature be condemn'd of treason,
732
For stealing moulds from heaven that were divine;
733
Wherein she framed thee in high heaven's despite,
734
To shame the sun by day and her by night.
735
'And therefore hath she bribed the Destinies
736
To cross the curious workmanship of nature,
737
To mingle beauty with infirmities,
738
And pure perfection with impure defeature,
739
Making it subject to the tyranny
740
Of mad mischances and much misery;
741
'As burning fevers, agues pale and faint,
742
Life-poisoning pestilence and frenzies wood,
743
The marrow-eating sickness, whose attaint
744
Disorder breeds by heating of the blood:
745
Surfeits, imposthumes, grief, and damn'd despair,
746
Swear nature's death for framing thee so fair.
747
'And not the least of all these maladies
748
But in one minute's fight brings beauty under:
749
Both favour, savour, hue and qualities,
750
Whereat the impartial gazer late did wonder,
751
Are on the sudden wasted, thaw'd and done,
752
As mountain-snow melts with the midday sun.
753
'Therefore, despite of fruitless chastity,
754
Love-lacking vestals and self-loving nuns,
755
That on the earth would breed a scarcity
756
And barren dearth of daughters and of sons,
757
Be prodigal: the lamp that burns by night
758
Dries up his oil to lend the world his light.
759
'What is thy body but a swallowing grave,
760
Seeming to bury that posterity
761
Which by the rights of time thou needs must have,
762
If thou destroy them not in dark obscurity?
763
If so, the world will hold thee in disdain,
764
Sith in thy pride so fair a hope is slain.
765
'So in thyself thyself art made away;
766
A mischief worse than civil home-bred strife,
767
Or theirs whose desperate hands themselves do slay,
768
Or butcher-sire that reaves his son of life.
769
Foul-cankering rust the hidden treasure frets,
770
But gold that's put to use more gold begets.'
771
'Nay, then,' quoth Adon, 'you will fall again
772
Into your idle over-handled theme:
773
The kiss I gave you is bestow'd in vain,
774
And all in vain you strive against the stream;
775
For, by this black-faced night, desire's foul nurse,
776
Your treatise makes me like you worse and worse.
777
'If love have lent you twenty thousand tongues,
778
And every tongue more moving than your own,
779
Bewitching like the wanton mermaid's songs,
780
Yet from mine ear the tempting tune is blown
781
For know, my heart stands armed in mine ear,
782
And will not let a false sound enter there;
783
'Lest the deceiving harmony should run
784
Into the quiet closure of my breast;
785
And then my little heart were quite undone,
786
In his bedchamber to be barr'd of rest.
787
No, lady, no; my heart longs not to groan,
788
But soundly sleeps, while now it sleeps alone.
789
'What have you urged that I cannot reprove?
790
The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger:
791
I hate not love, but your device in love,
792
That lends embracements unto every stranger.
793
You do it for increase: O strange excuse,
794
When reason is the bawd to lust's abuse!
795
'Call it not love, for Love to heaven is fled,
796
Since sweating Lust on earth usurp'd his name;
797
Under whose simple semblance he hath fed
798
Upon fresh beauty, blotting it with blame;
799
Which the hot tyrant stains and soon bereaves,
800
As caterpillars do the tender leaves.
801
'Love comforteth like sunshine after rain,
802
But Lust's effect is tempest after sun;
803
Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain,
804
Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done;
805
Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies;
806
Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies.
807
'More I could tell, but more I dare not say;
808
The text is old, the orator too green.
809
Therefore, in sadness, now I will away;
810
My face is full of shame, my heart of teen:
811
Mine ears, that to your wanton talk attended,
812
Do burn themselves for having so offended.'
813
With this, he breaketh from the sweet embrace,
814
Of those fair arms which bound him to her breast,
815
And homeward through the dark laund runs apace;
816
Leaves Love upon her back deeply distress'd.
817
Look, how a bright star shooteth from the sky,
818
So glides he in the night from Venus' eye.
819
Which after him she darts, as one on shore
820
Gazing upon a late-embarked friend,
821
Till the wild waves will have him seen no more,
822
Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend:
823
So did the merciless and pitchy night
824
Fold in the object that did feed her sight.
825
Whereat amazed, as one that unaware
826
Hath dropp'd a precious jewel in the flood,
827
Or stonish'd as night-wanderers often are,
828
Their light blown out in some mistrustful wood,
829
Even so confounded in the dark she lay,
830
Having lost the fair discovery of her way.
831
And now she beats her heart, whereat it groans,
832
That all the neighbour caves, as seeming troubled,
833
Make verbal repetition of her moans;
834
Passion on passion deeply is redoubled:
835
'Ay me!' she cries, and twenty times 'Woe, woe!'
836
And twenty echoes twenty times cry so.
837
She marking them begins a wailing note
838
And sings extemporally a woeful ditty;
839
How love makes young men thrall and old men dote;
840
How love is wise in folly, foolish-witty:
841
Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe,
842
And still the choir of echoes answer so.
843
Her song was tedious and outwore the night,
844
For lovers' hours are long, though seeming short:
845
If pleased themselves, others, they think, delight
846
In such-like circumstance, with suchlike sport:
847
Their copious stories oftentimes begun
848
End without audience and are never done.
849
For who hath she to spend the night withal
850
But idle sounds resembling parasites,
851
Like shrill-tongued tapsters answering every call,
852
Soothing the humour of fantastic wits?
853
She says 'Tis so:' they answer all 'Tis so;'
854
And would say after her, if she said 'No.'
855
Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
856
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high,
857
And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast
858
The sun ariseth in his majesty;
859
Who doth the world so gloriously behold
860
That cedar-tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.
861
Venus salutes him with this fair good-morrow:
862
'O thou clear god, and patron of all light,
863
From whom each lamp and shining star doth borrow
864
The beauteous influence that makes him bright,
865
There lives a son that suck'd an earthly mother,
866
May lend thee light, as thou dost lend to other.'
867
This said, she hasteth to a myrtle grove,
868
Musing the morning is so much o'erworn,
869
And yet she hears no tidings of her love:
870
She hearkens for his hounds and for his horn:
871
Anon she hears them chant it lustily,
872
And all in haste she coasteth to the cry.
873
And as she runs, the bushes in the way
874
Some catch her by the neck, some kiss her face,
875
Some twine about her thigh to make her stay:
876
She wildly breaketh from their strict embrace,
877
Like a milch doe, whose swelling dugs do ache,
878
Hasting to feed her fawn hid in some brake.
879
By this, she hears the hounds are at a bay;
880
Whereat she starts, like one that spies an adder
881
Wreathed up in fatal folds just in his way,
882
The fear whereof doth make him shake and shudder;
883
Even so the timorous yelping of the hounds
884
Appals her senses and her spirit confounds.
885
For now she knows it is no gentle chase,
886
But the blunt boar, rough bear, or lion proud,
887
Because the cry remaineth in one place,
888
Where fearfully the dogs exclaim aloud:
889
Finding their enemy to be so curst,
890
They all strain courtesy who shall cope him first.
891
This dismal cry rings sadly in her ear,
892
Through which it enters to surprise her heart;
893
Who, overcome by doubt and bloodless fear,
894
With cold-pale weakness numbs each feeling part:
895
Like soldiers, when their captain once doth yield,
896
They basely fly and dare not stay the field.
897
Thus stands she in a trembling ecstasy;
898
Till, cheering up her senses all dismay'd,
899
She tells them 'tis a causeless fantasy,
900
And childish error, that they are afraid;
901
Bids them leave quaking, bids them fear no more:--
902
And with that word she spied the hunted boar,
903
Whose frothy mouth, bepainted all with red,
904
Like milk and blood being mingled both together,
905
A second fear through all her sinews spread,
906
Which madly hurries her she knows not whither:
907
This way runs, and now she will no further,
908
But back retires to rate the boar for murther.
909
A thousand spleens bear her a thousand ways;
910
She treads the path that she untreads again;
911
Her more than haste is mated with delays,
912
Like the proceedings of a drunken brain,
913
Full of respects, yet nought at all respecting;
914
In hand with all things, nought at all effecting.
915
Here kennell'd in a brake she finds a hound,
916
And asks the weary caitiff for his master,
917
And there another licking of his wound,
918
'Gainst venom'd sores the only sovereign plaster;
919
And here she meets another sadly scowling,
920
To whom she speaks, and he replies with howling.
921
When he hath ceased his ill-resounding noise,
922
Another flap-mouth'd mourner, black and grim,
923
Against the welkin volleys out his voice;
924
Another and another answer him,
925
Clapping their proud tails to the ground below,
926
Shaking their scratch'd ears, bleeding as they go.
927
Look, how the world's poor people are amazed
928
At apparitions, signs and prodigies,
929
Whereon with fearful eyes they long have gazed,
930
Infusing them with dreadful prophecies;
931
So she at these sad signs draws up her breath
932
And sighing it again, exclaims on Death.
933
'Hard-favour'd tyrant, ugly, meagre, lean,
934
Hateful divorce of love,'--thus chides she Death,--
935
'Grim-grinning ghost, earth's worm, what dost thou mean
936
To stifle beauty and to steal his breath,
937
Who when he lived, his breath and beauty set
938
Gloss on the rose, smell to the violet?
939
'If he be dead,--O no, it cannot be,
940
Seeing his beauty, thou shouldst strike at it:--
941
O yes, it may; thou hast no eyes to see,
942
But hatefully at random dost thou hit.
943
Thy mark is feeble age, but thy false dart
944
Mistakes that aim and cleaves an infant's heart.
945
'Hadst thou but bid beware, then he had spoke,
946
And, hearing him, thy power had lost his power.
947
The Destinies will curse thee for this stroke;
948
They bid thee crop a weed, thou pluck'st a flower:
949
Love's golden arrow at him should have fled,
950
And not Death's ebon dart, to strike dead.
951
'Dost thou drink tears, that thou provokest such weeping?
952
What may a heavy groan advantage thee?
953
Why hast thou cast into eternal sleeping
954
Those eyes that taught all other eyes to see?
955
Now Nature cares not for thy mortal vigour,
956
Since her best work is ruin'd with thy rigour.'
957
Here overcome, as one full of despair,
958
She vail'd her eyelids, who, like sluices, stopt
959
The crystal tide that from her two cheeks fair
960
In the sweet channel of her bosom dropt;
961
But through the flood-gates breaks the silver rain,
962
And with his strong course opens them again.
963
O, how her eyes and tears did lend and borrow!
964
Her eyes seen in the tears, tears in her eye;
965
Both crystals, where they view'd each other's sorrow,
966
Sorrow that friendly sighs sought still to dry;
967
But like a stormy day, now wind, now rain,
968
Sighs dry her cheeks, tears make them wet again.
969
Variable passions throng her constant woe,
970
As striving who should best become her grief;
971
All entertain'd, each passion labours so,
972
That every present sorrow seemeth chief,
973
But none is best: then join they all together,
974
Like many clouds consulting for foul weather.
975
By this, far off she hears some huntsman hollo;
976
A nurse's song ne'er pleased her babe so well:
977
The dire imagination she did follow
978
This sound of hope doth labour to expel;
979
For now reviving joy bids her rejoice,
980
And flatters her it is Adonis' voice.
981
Whereat her tears began to turn their tide,
982
Being prison'd in her eye like pearls in glass;
983
Yet sometimes falls an orient drop beside,
984
Which her cheek melts, as scorning it should pass,
985
To wash the foul face of the sluttish ground,
986
Who is but drunken when she seemeth drown'd.
987
O hard-believing love, how strange it seems
988
Not to believe, and yet too credulous!
989
Thy weal and woe are both of them extremes;
990
Despair and hope makes thee ridiculous:
991
The one doth flatter thee in thoughts unlikely,
992
In likely thoughts the other kills thee quickly.
993
Now she unweaves the web that she hath wrought;
994
Adonis lives, and Death is not to blame;
995
It was not she that call'd him, all-to naught:
996
Now she adds honours to his hateful name;
997
She clepes him king of graves and grave for kings,
998
Imperious supreme of all mortal things.
999
'No, no,' quoth she, 'sweet Death, I did but jest;
1000
Yet pardon me I felt a kind of fear
1001
When as I met the boar, that bloody beast,
1002
Which knows no pity, but is still severe;
1003
Then, gentle shadow,--truth I must confess,--
1004
I rail'd on thee, fearing my love's decease.
1005
'Tis not my fault: the boar provoked my tongue;
1006
Be wreak'd on him, invisible commander;
1007
'Tis he, foul creature, that hath done thee wrong;
1008
I did but act, he's author of thy slander:
1009
Grief hath two tongues, and never woman yet
1010
Could rule them both without ten women's wit.'
1011
Thus hoping that Adonis is alive,
1012
Her rash suspect she doth extenuate;
1013
And that his beauty may the better thrive,
1014
With Death she humbly doth insinuate;
1015
Tells him of trophies, statues, tombs, and stories
1016
His victories, his triumphs and his glories.
1017
'O Jove,' quoth she, 'how much a fool was I
1018
To be of such a weak and silly mind
1019
To wail his death who lives and must not die
1020
Till mutual overthrow of mortal kind!
1021
For he being dead, with him is beauty slain,
1022
And, beauty dead, black chaos comes again.
1023
'Fie, fie, fond love, thou art so full of fear
1024
As one with treasure laden, hemm'd thieves;
1025
Trifles, unwitnessed with eye or ear,
1026
Thy coward heart with false bethinking grieves.'
1027
Even at this word she hears a merry horn,
1028
Whereat she leaps that was but late forlorn.
1029
As falcon to the lure, away she flies;
1030
The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light;
1031
And in her haste unfortunately spies
1032
The foul boar's conquest on her fair delight;
1033
Which seen, her eyes, as murder'd with the view,
1034
Like stars ashamed of day, themselves withdrew;
1035
Or, as the snail, whose tender horns being hit,
1036
Shrinks backward in his shelly cave with pain,
1037
And there, all smother'd up, in shade doth sit,
1038
Long after fearing to creep forth again;
1039
So, at his bloody view, her eyes are fled
1040
Into the deep dark cabins of her head:
1041
Where they resign their office and their light
1042
To the disposing of her troubled brain;
1043
Who bids them still consort with ugly night,
1044
And never wound the heart with looks again;
1045
Who like a king perplexed in his throne,
1046
By their suggestion gives a deadly groan,
1047
Whereat each tributary subject quakes;
1048
As when the wind, imprison'd in the ground,
1049
Struggling for passage, earth's foundation shakes,
1050
Which with cold terror doth men's minds confound.
1051
This mutiny each part doth so surprise
1052
That from their dark beds once more leap her eyes;
1053
And, being open'd, threw unwilling light
1054
Upon the wide wound that the boar had trench'd
1055
In his soft flank; whose wonted lily white
1056
With purple tears, that his wound wept, was drench'd:
1057
No flower was nigh, no grass, herb, leaf, or weed,
1058
But stole his blood and seem'd with him to bleed.
1059
This solemn sympathy poor Venus noteth;
1060
Over one shoulder doth she hang her head;
1061
Dumbly she passions, franticly she doteth;
1062
She thinks he could not die, he is not dead:
1063
Her voice is stopt, her joints forget to bow;
1064
Her eyes are mad that they have wept til now.
1065
Upon his hurt she looks so steadfastly,
1066
That her sight dazzling makes the wound seem three;
1067
And then she reprehends her mangling eye,
1068
That makes more gashes where no breach should be:
1069
His face seems twain, each several limb is doubled;
1070
For oft the eye mistakes, the brain being troubled.
1071
'My tongue cannot express my grief for one,
1072
And yet,' quoth she, 'behold two Adons dead!
1073
My sighs are blown away, my salt tears gone,
1074
Mine eyes are turn'd to fire, my heart to lead:
1075
Heavy heart's lead, melt at mine eyes' red fire!
1076
So shall I die by drops of hot desire.
1077
'Alas, poor world, what treasure hast thou lost!
1078
What face remains alive that's worth the viewing?
1079
Whose tongue is music now? what canst thou boast
1080
Of things long since, or any thing ensuing?
1081
The flowers are sweet, their colours fresh and trim;
1082
But true-sweet beauty lived and died with him.
1083
'Bonnet nor veil henceforth no creature wear!
1084
Nor sun nor wind will ever strive to kiss you:
1085
Having no fair to lose, you need not fear;
1086
The sun doth scorn you and the wind doth hiss you:
1087
But when Adonis lived, sun and sharp air
1088
Lurk'd like two thieves, to rob him of his fair:
1089
'And therefore would he put his bonnet on,
1090
Under whose brim the gaudy sun would peep;
1091
The wind would blow it off and, being gone,
1092
Play with his locks: then would Adonis weep;
1093
And straight, in pity of his tender years,
1094
They both would strive who first should dry his tears.
1095
'To see his face the lion walk'd along
1096
Behind some hedge, because he would not fear him;
1097
To recreate himself when he hath sung,
1098
The tiger would be tame and gently hear him;
1099
If he had spoke, the wolf would leave his prey
1100
And never fright the silly lamb that day.
1101
'When he beheld his shadow in the brook,
1102
The fishes spread on it their golden gills;
1103
When he was by, the birds such pleasure took,
1104
That some would sing, some other in their bills
1105
Would bring him mulberries and ripe-red cherries;
1106
He fed them with his sight, they him with berries.
1107
'But this foul, grim, and urchin-snouted boar,
1108
Whose downward eye still looketh for a grave,
1109
Ne'er saw the beauteous livery that he wore;
1110
Witness the entertainment that he gave:
1111
If he did see his face, why then I know
1112
He thought to kiss him, and hath kill'd him so.
1113
'Tis true, 'tis true; thus was Adonis slain:
1114
He ran upon the boar with his sharp spear,
1115
Who did not whet his teeth at him again,
1116
But by a kiss thought to persuade him there;
1117
And nuzzling in his flank, the loving swine
1118
Sheathed unaware the tusk in his soft groin.
1119
'Had I been tooth'd like him, I must confess,
1120
With kissing him I should have kill'd him first;
1121
But he is dead, and never did he bless
1122
My youth with his; the more am I accurst.'
1123
With this, she falleth in the place she stood,
1124
And stains her face with his congealed blood.
1125
She looks upon his lips, and they are pale;
1126
She takes him by the hand, and that is cold;
1127
She whispers in his ears a heavy tale,
1128
As if they heard the woeful words she told;
1129
She lifts the coffer-lids that close his eyes,
1130
Where, lo, two lamps, burnt out, in darkness lies;
1131
Two glasses, where herself herself beheld
1132
A thousand times, and now no more reflect;
1133
Their virtue lost, wherein they late excell'd,
1134
And every beauty robb'd of his effect:
1135
'Wonder of time,' quoth she, 'this is my spite,
1136
That, thou being dead, the day should yet be light.
1137
'Since thou art dead, lo, here I prophesy:
1138
Sorrow on love hereafter shall attend:
1139
It shall be waited on with jealousy,
1140
Find sweet beginning, but unsavoury end,
1141
Ne'er settled equally, but high or low,
1142
That all love's pleasure shall not match his woe.
1143
'It shall be fickle, false and full of fraud,
1144
Bud and be blasted in a breathing-while;
1145
The bottom poison, and the top o'erstraw'd
1146
With sweets that shall the truest sight beguile:
1147
The strongest body shall it make most weak,
1148
Strike the wise dumb and teach the fool to speak.
1149
'It shall be sparing and too full of riot,
1150
Teaching decrepit age to tread the measures;
1151
The staring ruffian shall it keep in quiet,
1152
Pluck down the rich, enrich the poor with treasures;
1153
It shall be raging-mad and silly-mild,
1154
Make the young old, the old become a child.
1155
'It shall suspect where is no cause of fear;
1156
It shall not fear where it should most mistrust;
1157
It shall be merciful and too severe,
1158
And most deceiving when it seems most just;
1159
Perverse it shall be where it shows most toward,
1160
Put fear to valour, courage to the coward.
1161
'It shall be cause of war and dire events,
1162
And set dissension 'twixt the son and sire;
1163
Subject and servile to all discontents,
1164
As dry combustious matter is to fire:
1165
Sith in his prime Death doth my love destroy,
1166
They that love best their loves shall not enjoy.'
1167
By this, the boy that by her side lay kill'd
1168
Was melted like a vapour from her sight,
1169
And in his blood that on the ground lay spill'd,
1170
A purple flower sprung up, chequer'd with white,
1171
Resembling well his pale cheeks and the blood
1172
Which in round drops upon their whiteness stood.
1173
She bows her head, the new-sprung flower to smell,
1174
Comparing it to her Adonis' breath,
1175
And says, within her bosom it shall dwell,
1176
Since he himself is reft from her by death:
1177
She crops the stalk, and in the breach appears
1178
Green dropping sap, which she compares to tears.
1179
'Poor flower,' quoth she, 'this was thy fathers guise--
1180
Sweet issue of a more sweet-smelling sire--
1181
For every little grief to wet his eyes:
1182
To grow unto himself was his desire,
1183
And so 'tis thine; but know, it is as good
1184
To wither in my breast as in his blood.
1185
'Here was thy father's bed, here in my breast;
1186
Thou art the next of blood, and 'tis thy right:
1187
Lo, in this hollow cradle take thy rest,
1188
My throbbing heart shall rock thee day and night:
1189
There shall not be one minute in an hour
1190
Wherein I will not kiss my sweet love's flower.'
1191
Thus weary of the world, away she hies,
1192
And yokes her silver doves; by whose swift aid
1193
Their mistress mounted through the empty skies
1194
In her light chariot quickly is convey'd;
1195
Holding their course to Paphos, where their queen
1196
Means to immure herself and not be seen.
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