- Even as the sun with purple-colour'd face
- 'Thrice fairer than myself,' thus she began,
- Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed
- 'And yet not cloy thy lips with loath'd satiety,
- With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
- Over one arm the lusty courser's rein,
- The studded bridle on a ragged bough
- So soon was she along, as he was down,
- He burns with bashful shame; she with her tears
- Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast,
- Forc'd to content, but never to obey,
- Look! how a bird lies tangled in a net,
- Still she entreats, and prettily entreats,
- Look how he can, she cannot choose but love;
- Upon this promise did he raise his chin
- Never did passenger in summer's heat
- I have been woo'd, as I entreat thee now,
- 'Over my altars hath he Hung his lance,
- 'Thus he that overrul'd I oversway'd,
- 'Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine,
- 'Art thou asham'd to kiss? then wink again,
- 'The tender spring upon thy tempting lip
- 'Were I hard-favour'd, foul, or wrinkled-old,
- 'Thou canst not see one wrinkle in my brow;
- Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear,
- 'Witness this primrose bank whereon I lie;
- 'Is thine own heart to thine own face affected?
- 'Torches are made to light, jewels to wear,
- 'Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed,
- By this the love-sick queen began to sweat,
- And now Adonis with a lazy spright,
- 'Ay me,' quoth Venus, 'young, and so unkind?
- 'The sun that shines from heaven shines but warm,
- 'Art thou obdurate, flinty, hard as steel
- 'What am I that thou shouldst contemn me this?
- 'Fie! lifeless picture, cold and senseless stone,
- This said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue,
- Sometimes she shakes her head, and then his hand;
- 'Fondling,' she saith, 'since I have hemm'd thee here
- 'Within this limit is relief enough,
- At this Adonis smiles as in disdain,
- These lovely caves, these round enchanting pits,
- Now which way shall she turn? what shall she say?
- But,lo! from forth a copse that neighbours by,
- Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds,
- His ears up-prick'd; his braided hanging mane
- Sometime he trots, as if he told the steps,
- What recketh he his rider's angry stir,
- Look, when a painter would surpass the life,
- Round-hoof'd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long,
- Sometimes he scuds far off, and there he stares;
- He looks upon his love, and neighs unto her;
- Then, like a melancholy malcontent,
- His testy master goeth about to take him;
- All swoln with chafing, down Adonis sits,
- An oven that is stopp'd, or river stay'd,
- He sees her coming, and begins to glow;
- O! what a sight it was, wistly to view
- Now was she just before him as he sat,
- O! what a war of looks was then between them;
- Full gently now she takes him by the hand,
- Once more the engine of her thoughts began:
- 'Give me my hand,' saith he, 'why dost thou feel it?'
- 'For shame,' he cries, 'let go, and let me go;
- Thus she replies: 'Thy palfrey, as he should,
- How like a jade he stood, tied to the tree,
- 'Who sees his true-love in her naked bed,
- 'Let me excuse thy courser, gentle boy;
- 'I know not love,' quoth he, 'nor will not know it,
- 'Who wears a garment shapeless and unfinish'd?
- 'You hurt my hand with wringing; let us part,
- 'What! canst thou talk?' quoth she,' hast thou
- 'Had I no eyes, but ears, my ears would love
- 'Say, that the sense of feeling were bereft me,
- 'But O! what banquet wert thou to the taste,
- Once more the ruby-colour'd portal open'd,
- This ill presage advisedly she marketh:
- And at his look she flatly falleth down,
- And all-amaz'd brake off his late intent,
- He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheeks,
- The night of sorrow now is turn'd to day:
- Whose beams upon his hairless face are fix'd,
- 'O! where am I?' quoth she, in earth or heaven,
- 'O! thou didst kill me; kill me once again:
- 'Long may they kiss each other for this cure!
- 'Pure lips, sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted,
- 'A thousand kisses buys my heart from me;
- 'Fair queen,' quoth he, ' if any love you owe me,
- 'Look! the world's comforter, with weary gait,
- 'Now let me say good night, and so say you;
- Till, breathless, he disjoin'd, and backward drew
- Now quick desire hath caught the yielding Prey
- And having felt the sweetness of the spoil,
- Hot, faint, and weary, with her hard embracing,
- What wax so frozen but dissolves with tempering,
- When he did frown, O! had she then gave over,
- For pity now she can no more detain him;
- 'Sweet boy,' she says, 'this night I'll waste in sorrow,
- 'The boar!' quoth she; whereat a sudden pale,
- Now is she in the very lists of love,
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- Even as poor birds, deceiv'd with painted grapes,
- But all in vain; good queen, it will not be:
- 'Thou hadst been gone,' quoth she, 'sweet boy, ere this,
- 'On his bow-back he hath a battle set
- His brawny sides, with hairy bristles arm'd
- 'Alas! he nought esteems that face of thine,
- 'O! let him keep his loathsome cabin still;
- 'Didst thou not mark my face? was it not white?
- 'For where Love reigns, disturbing Jealousy
- 'This sour informer, this bate-breeding spy,
- 'And more than so, presenteth to mine eye
- 'What should I do, seeing thee so indeed,
- 'But if thou needs wilt hunt, be rul'd by me;
- 'And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare,
- 'Sometime he runs among a flock of sheep,
- Danger deviseth shifts; wit waits on fear:
- As if another chase were in the skies.
- To one sore sick that hears the passing-bell.
- And being low never reliev'd by any.
- For love can comment upon every woe.
- 'In night,' quoth she, 'desire sees best of all.'
- Lest she should steal a kiss and die forsworn.
- To shame the sun by day and her by night.
- Of mad mischances and much misery;
- Swear nature's death for framing thee so fair.
- As mountain-snow melts with the mid-day sun.
- Dries up his oil to lend the world his light.
- Sith in thy pride so fair a hope is slain.
- But gold that's put to use more gold begets.
- Your treatise makes me like you worse and worse.
- And will not let a false sound enter there;
- But soundly sleeps, while now it sleeps alone.
- When reason is the bawd to lust's abuse.
- As caterpillars do the tender leaves.
- Love is all truth. Lust full of forged lies.
- Do burn themselves for having so offended.
- So glides he in the night from Venus' eye
- Fold in the object that did feed her sight.
- Having lost the fair discovery of her way.
- And twenty echoes twenty times cry so.
- And still the choir of echoes answer so.
- End without audience, and are never done.
- And would say after her, if she said ' No.'
- That cedar-tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.
- May lend thee light, as thou dost lend to other.
- And all in haste she coasteth to the cry.
- Hasting to feed her fawn hid in some brake
- .Appals her senses, and her spirit confounds.
- They all strain courtesy who shall cope him first.
- They basely fly and dare not stay the field.
- And with that word she spied the hunted boar,
- But back retires to rate the boar for murther.
- Here kennel'd in a brake she finds a hound,
- When he hath ceas'd his ill-resounding noise,
- Look, how the world's poor people are amaz'd
- 'Hard-favour'd tyrant, ugly, meagre, lean,
- 'If he be dead, O no! it cannot be,
- 'Hadst thou but bid beware, then he had spoke,
- 'Dost thou drink tears, that thou provok'st such weeping?
- Here overcome, as one full of despair,
- O! how her eyes and tears did lend and borrow;
- Variable passions throng her constant woe,
- By this, far off she hears some huntsman holla;
- Whereat her tears began to turn their tide,
- O hard-believing love! how strange it seems
- Now she unweaves the web that she hath wrought,
- 'No, no,' quoth she, 'sweet Death, I did but jest;
- ' 'Tis not my fault: the boar provok'd my tongue;
- Thus hoping that Adonis is alive,
- 'O Jove!' quoth she,' how much a fool was I,
- 'Pie, fie, fond love! thou art so full of fear
- As falcon to the lure, away she flies;
- Or, as the snail, whose tender horns being hit,
- Where they resign their office and their light
- Whereat each tributary subject quakes;
- And, being open'd, threw unwilling light
- This solemn sympathy poor Venus noteth,
- Upon his hurt she looks so steadfastly,
- 'My tongue cannot express my grief for one,
- 'Alas! poor world, what treasure hast thou lost
- 'Bonnet nor veil henceforth no creature wear!
- 'And therefore would he put his bonnet on,
- 'To see his face the lion walk'd along
- 'When he beheld his shadow in the brook,
- 'But this foul, grim, and urchin-snouted boar,
- ' 'Tis true, 'tis true; thus was Adonis slain:
- 'Had I been tooth'd like him, I must confess,
- She looks upon his lips, and they are pale;
- Two glasses where herself herself beheld
- 'Since thou art dead, lo! here I prophesy,
- 'It shall be fickle, false, and full of fraud,
- 'It shall be sparing and too full of riot
- 'It shall suspect where is no cause of fear;
- 'It shall be cause of war and dire events,
- By this, the boy that by her side lay kill'd
- She bows her head, the new-sprung flower to smell,
- 'Poor flower,' quoth she, 'this was thy father's guise,
- 'Here was thy father's bed, here in my breast;
- Thus weary of the world, away she hies,
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Australian
