Venus and Adonis by William Shakespeare ~ Full Audiobook
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venus and adonis by william shakspere to the right honourable henry risley earl of southampton and baron of titchfield right honourable i know not how i shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your lordship nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burden

only if your honor seem but pleased i account myself highly praised and vow to take advantage of all idle hours till i have honored you with some graver labor but if the first air of my invention prove deform'd i shall be sorry it had so noble a godfather and never after ere so barren a land for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest

i leave it to your honourable survey and your honour to your heart's content which i wish may always answer your own wish and the world's hopeful expectation your honours in all duty william shakespeare even as the sun with purple-colour'd face had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn rose-cheek'd adonis tried him to the chase hunting he loved but love he laugh'd to scorn

sick thoughted venus makes a mane unto him and like a bold-faced suitor gins to woo him thrice fairer than myself thus she began the field's chief flower sweet above compare stain to all nymphs more lovely than a man more white and red than doves or roses are nature that made thee with herself at strife saith that the world hath ending with thy life

vouchsafe thou wonder to alight thy steed and rein his proud head to the saddle-bow if thou wilt deign this favour for thy meed a thousand honey secrets shalt thou know here come and sit where never serpent hisses and being set i'll smother thee with kisses

and yet not cloy thy lips with loath'd satiety but rather famish them amid their plenty making them red and pale with fresh variety ten kisses short as one one long as twenty

A summer's day will seem an hour but short, Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport. With this she ceaseth on his sweating palm The precedent of pith and livelihood, And trembling in her passion calls it balm, Earth's sovran salve to do a goddess good; Being so enraged desire doth lend her force Courageously to pluck him from his horse.

over one arm the lusty coursers reign under her other was the tender boy who blushed and pouted in a dull disdain with leaden appetite unapt to toy she red and hot as coals of glowing fire he red for shame but frosty in desire the studded bridle on a ragged bough nimbly she fastens oh how quick is love

the steed is stall'd up and ev'n now to tie the rider she begins to prove backward she push'd him as she would be thrust and govern him in strength though not in lust so soon was she along as he was down each leaning on their elbows and their hips now doth she stroke his cheek now doth he frown and gins to chide

but soon she stops his lips and kissing speaks with lustful language broken if thou wilt chide thy lips shall never open he burns with bashful shame she with her tears doth quench the maiden burning of his cheeks then with her windy sighs and golden hairs to fan and blow them dry again she seeks

he saith she is immodest blames her miss what follows more she murders with a kiss even as an empty eagle sharp by fast tires with her beak on feathers flesh and bone shaking her wings devouring all in haste till either gorge be stuffed or prey be gone even so she kissed his brow his cheek his chin

and where she ends she doth anew begin forced to content but never to obey panting he lies and breatheth in her face she feedeth on the steam as on a prey and calls it heavenly moisture air of grace wishing her cheeks were gardens full of flowers so they were due'd with such distilling showers

look how a bird lies tangled in a net so fasten'd in her arms adonis lies pure shame and awed resistance made him fret which bred more beauty in his angry eyes rain added to a river that his rank perforce will force it overflow the bank still she entreats and prettily entreats for to a pretty ear she tunes her tale

Still is he sullen, still he lowers and frets, 'twixt crimson shame and anger ashy pale.

being red she loves him best and being white her best is better'd with a more delight look how he can she cannot choose but love and by her fair immortal hand she swears from his soft bosom never to remove till he take truce with her contending tears which long have rain'd making her cheeks all wet and one sweet kiss shall pay this countless debt

upon this promise did he raise his chin like a dive dapper peering thro a wave who being look'd on ducks as quickly in so offers he to give what she did crave but when her lips were ready for his pay he winks and turns his lips another way

never did passenger in summer's heat more thirst for drink than she for this good turn her help she sees but help she cannot get she bathes in water yet her fire must burn oh pity gan she cry flint hearted boy tis but a kiss i beg why art thou coy

i have been woo'd as i entreat thee now ev'n by the stern and direful god of war whose sinewy neck in battle ne'er did bow who conquers where he comes in ev'ry jar yet hath he been my captive and my slave and begg'd for that which thou unask'd shalt have

over my altars hath he hung his lance his batter'd shield his uncontroll'd crest and for my sake hath learn'd to sport and dance to toy to wanton dally smile and jest scorning his churlish drum and ensign red making my arms his field his tent my bed

thus he that overruled i over swayed leading him prisoner in a rose-red chain strong temper'd steel his stronger strength obey'd yet was he servile to my coy disdain o be not proud nor brag not of thy might for mastering her that foils the god of fight

Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine, Though mine be not so fair, yet are they red, The kiss shall be thine own as well as mine, What seest thou in the ground? Hold up thy head, Look in mine eyeballs, there thy beauty lies, Then why not lips on lips, since eyes in eyes?

art thou ashamed to kiss then wink again and i will wink so shall the day seem night love keeps his revels where there are but twain be bold to play our sport is not in sight these blue-veined violets whereon we lean never can blab nor know not what we mean

the tender spring upon thy tempting lip shows thee unripe yet mayst thou well be tasted make use of time let not advantage slip beauty within itself should not be wasted fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime rot and consume themselves in little time

were i hard favoured foul or wrinkled old ill nurtured crooked churlish harsh in voice or worn despised rheumatic and cold thick-sighted barren lean and lacking juice then mightst thou pause for then i were not for thee but having no defects why dost abhor me

thou canst not see one wrinkle in my brow mine eyes are gray and bright and quick in turning my beauty as the spring doth yearly grow my flesh is soft and plump my marrow burning my smooth moist hand were it with thy hand felt would in thy palm dissolve or seem to melt

bid me discourse i will enchant thine ear or like a fairy trip upon the green or like a nymph with long dishevel'd hair dance on the sands and yet no footing seen love is a spirit all compact of fire not gross to sink but light and will aspire

witness this primrose bank whereon i lie these forceless flowers like sturdy trees support me two strengthless doves will draw me thro the sky from morn till night ev'n where i list to sport me is love so light sweet boy and may it be that thou shouldst think it heavy unto thee

is thine own heart to thine own face affected can thy right hand seize love upon thy left then woo thyself be of thyself rejected steal thine own freedom and complain on theft narcissus so himself himself forsook and died to kiss his shadow in the brook

torches are made to light jewels to wear dainties to taste fresh beauty for the use herbs for their smell and sappy plants to bear things growing to themselves are growth's abuse seeds spring from seeds and beauty breedeth beauty thou wast begot to get it is thy duty

upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed unless the earth with thy increase be fed by law of nature thou art bound to breed that thine may live when thou thyself art dead and so in spite of death thou dost survive in that thy likeness still is left alive by this the love-sick queen began to sweat

for where they lay the shadow had forsook them and titan tired in the mid-day heat with burning eye did hotly overlook them wishing adonis had his team to guide so he were like him and by venus side

and now adonis with a lazy sprite and with a heavy dark disliking eye his lowering brows o'erwhelming his fair sight like misty vapors when they blot the sky souring his cheeks cries fie no more of love the sun doth burn my face i must remove ay me quoth venus young and so unkind what bare excuses mak'st thou to be gone

I'll sigh celestial breath, Whose gentle wind shall cool the heat of this descending sun. I'll make a shadow for thee of my hairs; If they burn too, I'll quench them with my tears. The sun that shines from heaven shines but warm, And lo, I lie between that sun and thee. The heat I have from thence doth little harm; Thine eye darts forth the fire that burneth me.

and were i not immortal life were done between this heav'nly and earthly sun art thou obdurate flinty hard as steel nay more than flint for stone at rain relenteth art thou a woman's son and canst not feel what tis to love how want of love tormenteth o had thy mother borne so hard a mind she had not brought forth thee but died unkind

what am i that thou shouldst condemn me thus or what great danger dwells upon my suit what were thy lips the worse for one poor kiss speak fair but speak fair words or else be mute give me one kiss i'll give it thee again and one for interest if thou wilt have twain

fie lifeless picture cold and senseless stone well painted idol image dull and dead statue contenting but the eye alone thing like a man but of no woman bred

thou art no man though of a man's complexion for men will kiss ev'n by their own direction this said impatience chokes her pleading tongue and swelling passion doth provoke a pause red cheeks and fiery eyes blaze forth her wrong being judge in love she cannot right her cause and now she weeps and now she fain would speak and now her sobs do her intendments break

sometimes she shakes her head and then his hand now gazeth she on him now on the ground sometimes her arms enfold him like a band she would he will not in her arms be bound

And when from thence he struggles to be gone, She locks her lily fingers one in one. Fondling, she saith, Since I have hemmed thee here Within the circuit of this ivory pale, I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer, Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale, Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry, Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie,

within this limit is relief enough sweet bottom grass and high delightful plain round rising hillocks brakes obscure and rough to shelter thee from tempest and from rain then be my dear since i am such a park no dog shall rouse thee though a thousand bark at this adonis smiles as in disdain that in each cheek appears a pretty dimple

love made those hollows if himself were slain he might be buried in a tomb so simple for knowing well if there he came to lie why there love lived and there he could not die these lovely caves these round enchanting pits opened their mouths to swallow venus liking

being mad before how doth she now for wits struck dead at first what needs a second striking poor queen of love in thine own law forlorn to love a cheek that smiles at thee in scorn

now which way shall she turn what shall she say her words are done her woes the more increasing the time is spent her object will away and from her twining arms doth urge releasing pity she cries some favour some remorse away he springs and hasteth to his horse

but lo from forth a colp's that neighbours by a breeding jennet lusty young and proud adonis tramping courier doth espy and forth she rushes snorts and neighs aloud the strong-necked steed being tied unto a tree breaketh his rein and to her straight goes he

imperiously he leaps he neighs he bounds and now his woven girths he breaks asunder the bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds whose hollow womb resounds like heaven's thunder the iron bit he crusheth tween his teeth controlling what he was controlled with his ears uppricked his braided hanging mane upon his compass'd crest now stand on end

his nostrils drink the air and forth again as from a furnace vapours doth he send his eye which scornfully glisters like fire shows his hot courage and his high desire

sometime he trots as if he told the steps with gentle majesty and modest pride anon he rears upright curvets and leaps as who should say lo thus my strength is tried and this i do to captivate the eye of the fair breeder that is standing by

what recketh he his rider's angry stir his flattering holla or his stand i say what cares he now for curb or pricking spur for rich caparisons or trapping gay he sees his love and nothing else he sees nor nothing else with his proud sight agrees

look when a painter would surpass the life in limning out a well-proportion'd steed his art with nature's workmanship at strife as if the dead the living should exceed so did this horse excel a common one in shape in courage colour pace and bone

round hoofed short jointed fetlocks shag and long broad breast full eye small head and nostril wide high crest short ears straight legs and passing strong thin mane thick tail broad buttock tender hide look what a horse should have he did not lack save a proud rider on so proud a back

sometimes he scuds far off and there he stares anon he starts at stirring of a feather to bid the wind abase he now prepares and where he run or fly they know not whether for through his mane and tail the high wind sings fanning the hares who wave like feathered wings he looks upon his love and neighs unto her she answers him as if she knew his mind

being proud as females are to see him woo her she puts on outward strangeness seems unkind spurns at his love and scorns the heat he feels beating his kind embracements with her heels then like a melancholy malcontent he veils his tail that like a falling plume cools shadow to his melting buttock lent he stamps and bites the poor flies in his fume

his love perceiving how he is enraged grew kinder and his fury was assuaged his testy master goeth about to take him when lo the unback'd breeder full of fear jealous of catching swiftly doth forsake him

with her the horse and left adonis there as they were mad unto the wood they hie them outstripping crows that strive to overfly them all swoln with chafing down adonis sits banning his boisterous and unruly beast and now the happy season once more fits that love-sick love by pleading may be blest for lovers say the heart hath treble wrong when it is barred the aidance of the tongue

an oven that is stopp'd or river stay'd burneth more hotly swelleth with more rage so of conceal'd sorrow may be said free vent of words love's fire doth assuage but when the heart's attorney once is mute the client breaks as desperate in his suit he sees her coming and begins to glow ev'n as a dying coal revives with wind

and with his bonnet hides his angry brow looks on the dull earth with disturbed mind taking no notice that she is so nigh for all askance he holds her in his eye oh what a sight it was whistly to view how she came stealing to the wayward boy to note the fighting conflict of her hue how white and red each other did destroy

But now her cheek was pale, and by and by It flashed forth fire as lightning from the sky. Now was she just before him as he sat, And like a lowly lover down she kneels. With one fair hand she heaveth up his hat, Her other tender hand his fair cheek feels. His tenderer cheek receives her soft hand's print, As apt as new-fallen snow takes any dint.

O, what a war of looks was then between them! Her eyes petitioners to his eyes suing. His eyes saw her eyes as they had not seen them. Her eyes wooed still, his eyes disdained the wooing. And all this dumb play had his acts made plain with tears, which chorus-like her eyes did reign.

full gently now she takes him by the hand a lily prison'd in a gaol of snow or ivory in an alabaster band so white a friend in girt's so white a foe this beauteous combat wilful and unwilling show'd like two silver doves that sit a-billing

Once more the engine of her thoughts began. O fairest mover on this mortal round, Would thou wert as I am, and I a man, My heart all whole as thine, thy heart my wound, For one sweet look thy help I would assure thee, Though nothing but my body's bane would cure thee. Give me my hand, saith he, why dost thou feel it? Give me my heart.

saith she and thou shalt have it oh give it me lest thy hard heart do steal it and being steeled soft sighs can never grave it then love's deep groans i never shall regard because adonis heart hath made mine hard for shame he cries let go and let me go my day's delight is past

my horse is gone and tis your fault i am bereft him so i pray you hence and leave me here alone for all my mind my thought my busy care is how to get my palfrey from the mare thus she replies thy palfrey as he should welcomes the warm approach of sweet desire affection is a coal that must be cool'd else suffer'd it will set the heart on fire

the sea hath bounds but deep desire hath none therefore no marvel though thy horse be gone how like a jade he stood tied to the tree servilely master'd with a leathern rein but when he saw his love his youth's fair fee he held such petty bondage in disdain throwing the base thong from his bending crest enfranchising his mouth his back his breast

Who sees his true love in her naked bed, Teaching the sheets a whiter hue than white? But when his glutton eye so full hath fed, His other agents aim at like delight,

who is so faint that dare not be so bold to touch the fire the weather being cold let me excuse thy courser gentle boy and learn of him i heartily beseech thee to take advantage on presented joy though i were dumb yet his proceedings teach thee o

O learn to love, the lesson is but plain, And once made perfect, never lost again. I know not love, quoth he, nor will not know it, Unless it be a bore, and then I chase it. Tis much to borrow, and I will not owe it. My love to love is love but to disgrace it, For I have heard it is a life in death.

That laughs and weeps, and all but with a breath. Who wears a garment shapeless and unfinished? Who plucks the bud before one leaf put forth? If springing things be any jot diminished, They wither in their prime, prove nothing worth. The colt that's backed and burdened being young, Loseth his pride, and never waxeth strong.

You hurt my hand with ringing. Let us part, and leave this idle theme, this bootless chat. Remove your siege from my unyielding heart. To love's alarms it will not ope the gate. Dismiss your vows, your feigned tears, your flattery. For where a heart is hard, they make no battery. What, canst thou talk?

quoth she hast thou a tongue o would thou hadst not or i had no hearing thy mermaid's voice hath done me double wrong had my load before now press'd with bearing melodious discord heav'nly tune harsh sounding ears deep sweet music and hearts deep sore wounding

had i no eyes but ears my ears would love that inward beauty and invisible or were i deaf thy outward parts would move each part in me that were but sensible though neither eyes nor ears to hear nor see yet should i be in love by touching thee

say that the sense of feeling were bereft me and that i could not see nor hear nor touch and nothing but the very smell were left me yet would my love to thee be still as much far from the stilatory of thy face excelling comes breath perfumed that breatheth love by smelling

but oh what banquet wert thou to the taste being nurse and feeder of the other four would they not wish the feast might ever last and bid suspicion double lock the door lest jealousy that sour unwelcome guest should by his stealing in disturb the feast

once more the ruby-colour'd portal open'd which to his speech did honey passage yield like a red morn that ever yet betokend wrack to the seaman tempest to the field sorrow to the shepherds woe unto the birds gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds

this ill presage advisedly she marketh even as the wind is hush'd before it raineth or as the wolf doth grin before he barketh or as the berry breaks before it staineth or like the deadly bullet of a gun his meaning struck her ere his words begun and at his look she flatly falleth down for looks kill love and love by looks reviveth

A smile recures the wounding of a frown, But blessed bankrupt that by love so thriveth. The silly boy believing she is dead, Claps her pale cheek till clapping makes it red, And all amazed break off his late intent, For sharply he did think to reprehend her, Which cunning love did wittily prevent. Fair fall the wit that can so well defend her.

For on the grass she lies as she were slain, Till his breath breatheth life in her again. He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheeks, He bends her fingers, holds her pulses hard, He chafes her lips, a thousand ways he seeks To mend the hurt that his unkindness marred. He kisses her, and she, by her good will, Will never rise, so he will kiss her still.

the night of sorrow now is turned to day her two blue windows faintly she upheaveth like the fair sun when in his fresh array he cheers the morn and all the world relieveth and as the bright sun glorifies the sky so is her face illumined with her eye whose beams upon his hairless face are fixed as if from thence they borrowed all their shine

Were never four such lamps together mixed, Had not his clouded with his brows repine,

But hers, which through the crystal tears gave light, Shone like the moon in water seen by night. "Oh, where am I?" quoth she, "In earth or heaven, Or in the ocean drenched or in the fire? What hour is this, or morn or weary even? Do I delight to die, or life desire? But now I lived, and life was death's annoy; But now I died, and death was lively joy.

o thou didst kill me kill me once again thy eyes shrewd tudor that hard heart of thine hath taught them scornful tricks and such disdain that they have murder'd this poor heart of mine and these mine eyes true leaders to their queen but for thy piteous lips no more had seen

long may they kiss each other for this cure o never let their crimson liveries wear and as they last their vergers still endure to drive infection from the dangerous year that the star-gazers having writ on death may say the plague is banished by thy breath

pure lips sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted what bargains may i make still to be sealing to sell myself i can be well contented so thou wilt buy and pay and use good dealing which purchase if thou make for fear of slips set thy seal manual on my wax-red lips

a thousand kisses buys my heart from me and pay them at thy leisure one by one what is ten hundred touches unto thee are they not quickly told and quickly gone

Say, for non-payment that the debt should double, Is twenty hundred kisses such a trouble? Fair queen, quoth he, If any love you owe me, Measure my strangeness with my unripe years, Before I know myself, seek not to know me. No fisher but the ungrown fry forbears, The mellow plum doth fall, the green sticks fast, Or being early plucked, is sour to taste.

"'Look, the world's comforter! With weary gait his day's hot task hath ended in the west. The owl, night's herald, shrieks. Tis very late. The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest, and cold black clouds that shadow heaven's light do summon us to part and bid good-night. Now let me say good-night.'

and so say you if you will say so you shall have a kiss good-night quoth she and ere he says adieu the honey-fee of parting tendered is her arms do lend his neck a sweet embrace incorporate then they seem face grows to face

till breathless he disjoin'd and backward drew the heav'nly moisture that sweet coral mouth whose precious taste her thirsty lips well knew whereon they surfeit yet complain on drought he with her plenty press'd she faint with dearth their lips together glued fall to the earth

now quick desire hath caught the yielding prey and glutton like she feeds yet never filleth her lips are conquerors his lips obey paying what ransom th insulter willeth whose vulture thought doth pitch the price so high that she will draw his lips rich treasure dry

and having felt the sweetness of the spoil with blindfold fury she begins to forage her face doth reek and smoke her blood doth boil and careless lust stirs up a desperate courage planting oblivion beating reason back forgetting shame's pure blush and honour's

Hot, faint, and weary, with her hard embracing, Like a wild bird being tamed with too much handling, Or as the fleet-foot roe that's tired with chasing, Or like the froward infant stilled with dandling, He now obeys, and now no more resisteth, While she takes all she can, not all she listeth.

What wax so frozen but dissolves with tempering, And yields at last to every light impression? Things out of hope are compassed oft with venturing, Chiefly in love whose leave exceeds commission. Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward, But then woos best when most his choice is froward. When he did frown, oh, had she then gave o'er Such nectar from his lips she had not suck'd,

foul words and frowns must not repel a lover what though the rose have prickles yet tis pluck'd were beauty under twenty locks kept fast yet love breaks through and picks them all at last for pity now she can no more detain him the poor fool prays her that he may depart she is resolv'd no longer to restrain him bids him farewell and look well to her heart

The which by cupid's bow she doth protest, He carries thence encaged in his breast. Sweet boy, she says, This night I'll waste in sorrow, For my sick heart commands mine eyes to watch. Tell me, loves master, shall we meet to-morrow? Say, shall we, shall we, wilt thou make the match? He tells her no. To-morrow he intends to hunt the boar With certain of his friends. The boar, quoth she,

whereat a sudden pale like lawn being spread upon the blushing rose usurps her cheeks she trembles at his tail and on his neck her yoking arm she throws she sinketh down still hanging by his neck he on her belly falls she on her back

now is she in the very lists of love her champion mounted for the hot encounter all is imaginary she doth prove he will not manage her although he mount her that worse than tantalus is her annoy to clip elysium and to lack her joy

even as poor birds deceived with painted grapes do surf it by the eye and pine the maw even so she languisheth in her mishaps as those poor birds that helpless berries saw the warm effects which she in him finds missing she seeks to kindle with continual kissing

but all in vain good queen it will not be she hath assayed as much as may be proved her pleading hath deserved a greater fee she's love she loves and yet she is not loved fie fie he says you crush me let me go you have no reason to withhold me so

thou hadst been gone quoth she sweet boy ere this but that thou told'st me thou wouldst hunt the boar o be advised thou know'st not what it is with javelin's point a churlish swine to gore whose tush is never sheathed he wetteth still like to a mortal butcher bent to kill

on his bow back he hath a battle set of bristly pikes that ever threat his foes his eyes like glow-worms shine when he doth fret his snout digs sepulchres where'er he goes being mov'd he strikes whate'er is in his way and whom he strikes his crooked tushes slay

his brawny sides with hairy bristles arm'd are better proof than thy spear's point can enter his short thick neck cannot be easily harm'd being ireful on the lion he will venture the thorny brambles and embracing bushes as fearful of him part through whom he rushes

alas he not esteems that face of thine to which love's eyes pay tributary gazes nor thy soft hands sweet lips and crystal eyne whose full perfection all the world amazes but having thee at vantage wondrous dread would root these beauties as he roots the mead

o let him keep his loathsome cabin still beauty hath nought to do with such foul fiends come not within his danger by thy will they that thrive well take counsel of their friends when thou didst name the boar nought to dissemble i fear'd thy fortune and my joints did tremble

didst thou not mark my face was it not white saw'st thou not signs of fear lurk in mine eye grew i not faint and fell i not downright within my bosom whereon thou dost lie my boding heart pants beats and takes no rest but like an earthquake shakes thee on my breast

for where love reigns disturbing jealousy doth call himself affection's sentinel gives false alarms suggesteth mutiny and in a peaceful hour doth cry kill kill distempering gentle love in his desire as air and water do abate the fire

this sour informer this bait breeding spy this canker that eats up love's tender spring this carry-tale dissentious jealousy that sometime true news sometime false doth bring knocks at my heart and whispers in mine ear that if i loved thee aye thy death should fear

and more than so presenteth to mine eye the picture of an angry chafing boar under whose sharp fangs on his back doth lie an image like thyself all stain'd with gore whose blood upon the fresh flowers being shed doth make them droop with grief and hang the head what should i do seeing thee so indeed that tremble at the imagination the thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed and fear doth teach it divination

i prophesy thy death my living sorrow if thou encounter with the boar to-morrow if thou needs wilt hunt be ruled by me uncouple at the timorous flying hare or at the fox which lives by subtlety or at the roe which no encounter dare pursue these fearful creatures o'er the downs and on thy well-breathed horse keep with thy hound

and when thou hast on foot the purblind hare mark the poor wretch to overshoot his troubles how he outruns the winds and with what care he cranks and crosses with a thousand doubles the many musets through the which he goes are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes

sometime he runs among a flock of sheep to make the cunning hounds mistake their smell and sometime where earth delving conies keep to stop the loud pursuers in their yell and sometimes sorteth with a herd of deer danger deviseth shifts wit waits on fear

for there his smell with others being mingled the hot scent snuffing hounds are driven to doubt ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singled with much ado the cold fault cleanly out then do they spend their mouths echo replies as if another chase were in the skies

by this poor wat far off upon a hill stands on his hinder legs with listening ear to hearken if his foes pursue him still anon their loud alarums he doth hear and now his grief may be compar'd well to one sore sick that hears the passing bell

then shalt thou see the dew bedabbled wretch turn and return indenting with the way each envious briar his weary legs doth scratch each shadow makes him stop each murmur stay for misery is trodden on by many and being low never relieved by any

lie quietly and hear a little more nay do not struggle for thou shalt not rise to make thee hate the hunting of the boar unlike myself thou hearest me moralize applying this to that and so to so for love can comment upon every woe where did i leave no matter where quoth he leave me

and then the story aptly ends the night is spent why what of that quoth she i am quoth he expected of my friends and now tis dark and going i shall fall in night quoth she desire sees best of all

but if thou fall oh then imagine this the earth in love with thee thy footing trips and all is but to rob thee of a kiss rich praise make true men thieves so do thy lips make modest dian cloudy and forlorn lest she should steal a kiss and die forsworn

now of this dark night i perceive the reason cynthia for shame obscures her silver shine till forging nature be condemn'd of treason for stealing moulds from heav'n that were divine wherein she fram'd thee in high heav'n's despite to shame the sun by day and her by night

and therefore hath she bribed the destinies to cross the curious workmanship of nature to mingle beauty with infirmities and pure perfection with impure defeature making it subject to the tyranny of mad mischances and much misery as burning fevers agues pale and faint life poisoning pestilence and frenzies would the marrow eating sickness whose attains disorder breeds by heating of the blood

surfeits impostumes grief and damn'd despair swear nature's death for framing thee so fair and not the least of all these maladies but in one minute's fight brings beauty under both favor savor hue and qualities whereat th impartial gazer late did wonder are on the sudden wasted thaw'd and done as mountain snow melts with the midday sun

therefore despite of fruitless chastity love lacking vestals and self-loving nuns that on the earth would breed a scarcity and barren dearth of daughters and of sons be prodigal the lamp that burns by night dries up his oil to lend the world his light what is thy body but a swallowing grave seeming to bury that posterity which by the rites of time thou needs must have if thou destroy them not in dark obscurity

if so the world will hold thee in disdain sith in thy pride so fair a hope is slain so in thyself thyself art made away a mischief worse than civil home-bred strife or theirs whose desperate hands themselves do slay or butcher sire that wreathes his son of life

Foul cankering rust the hidden treasure frets, But gold that's put to use more gold begets. Nay then, quoth Adon, you will fall again Into your idle overhandled theme. The kiss I gave you is bestowed in vain, And all in vain you strive against the stream. For by this black-faced knight desires foul nurse,

your treatise makes me like you worse and worse if love have lent you twenty thousand tongues and every tongue more moving than your own bewitching like the wanton mermaids songs yet from mine ear the tempting tune is blown

For no, my heart stands armoured in mine ear, and will not let a false sound enter there, lest the deceiving harmony should run into the quiet closure of my breast, and then my little heart were quite undone in his bedchamber to be barred of rest. No, lady, no, my heart longs not to groan, but soundly sleeps.

While now it sleeps alone. What have you urged that I cannot reprove? The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger. I hate not love, but your device in love That lends embracements unto every stranger. You do it for increase, O strange excuse, When reason is the bawd to lust's abuse.

Call it not love, for love to heaven is fled, Since sweating lust on earth usurped his name, Under whose simple semblance he hath fed upon fresh beauty, Blotting it with blame, which the hot tyrant stains and soon bereaves, As caterpillars do the tender leaves. Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, But lust's effect is tempest after sun,

Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain. Lust's winter comes ere summer hath be done. Love surfets not. Lust like a glutton dies. Love is all truth. Lust full of forged lies.

More I could tell, but more I dare not say. The text is old, the orator too green. Therefore in sadness now I will away. My face is full of shame, my heart of teen. Mine ears, that to your wanton talk attended, Do burn themselves for having so offended. With this he breaketh from the sweet embrace Of those fair arms which bound him to her breast.

and homeward through the dark land runs apace leaves love upon her back deeply distrest look how a bright star shooteth from the sky so glides he in the night from venus eye which after him she darts as one on shore gazing upon a late embarked friend till the wild waves will have him seen no more whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend

So did the merciless and pitchy night Fold in the object that did feed her sight, Whereat amazed as one that unaware Hath dropt a precious jewel in the flood, Or astonished as night-wanderers often are Their light blown out in some mistrustful wood, Even so confounded in the dark she lay, Having lost the fair discovery of her way.

and now she beats her heart whereat it groans that all the neighbour caves as seeming troubled make verbal repetition of her moans passion on passion deeply is redoubled ay me she cries and twenty times woe woe and twenty echoes twenty times cry so

she marking them begins a wailing note and sings extemporally a woeful ditty how love makes young men thrall and old men dote how love is wise in folly foolish witty her heavy anthem still concludes in woe and still the choir of echoes answer so

her song was tedious and outwore the night for lovers hours are long though seeming short if pleas'd themselves others they think delight in such like circumstance with such like sport their copious stories oftentimes begun end without audience and are never done

for who hath she to spend the night withal but idle sounds resembling parasites like shrill tongued tapsters answering every call soothing the humour of fantastic wits she says tis so they answer all tis so and would say after her if she said no

lo here the gentle lark weary of rest from his moist cabinet mounts up on high and wakes the morning from whose silver breast the sun ariseth in his majesty who doth the world so gloriously behold that cedar tops and hills seem'd burnish'd gold

venus salutes him with this fair good-morrow o thou clear god and patron of all light from whom each lamp and shining star doth borrow the beauteous influence that makes him bright there lives a son that suck'd an earthly mother may lend thee light as thou dost lend to other this said she hasteth to a myrtle grove musing the morning is so much o'erworn and yet she hears no tidings of her love

she hearkens for his hounds and for his horn anon she hears them chant it lustly and all in haste she coasteth to the cry and as she runs the bushes in the way some catch her by the neck some kiss her face some twine about her thigh to make her stay she wildly breaketh from their strict embrace like a milch-dough whose swelling dugs do ache hasting to feed her fawn hid in some brake

by this she hears the hounds are at bay whereat she starts like one that spies an adder wreathed up in fatal folds just in his way the fear whereof doth make him shake and shudder even so the timorous yelping of the hounds appalls her senses and her spirit confounds

for now she knows it is no gentle chase but the blunt boar rough bear or lion proud because the cry remaineth in one place while e'er fearfully the dogs exclaim aloud finding their enemy to be so curst they all strain courtesy who shall cope him first

this dismal cry rings sadly in her ear through all which it enters to surprise her heart who overcome by doubt and bloodless fear with cold pale weakness numbs each feeling part like soldiers when their captain once doth yield they basely fly and dare not stay the field

Thus stands she in a trembling ecstasy, Till cheering up her senses sore dismayed, She tells them tis a causeless fantasy, And childish error that they are afraid, Bids them leave quaking, bids them fear no more, And with that word she spied the hunted boar, Whose frothy mouth bepainted all with red, Like milk and blood being mingled both together,

a second fear thro all her sinews spread which madly hurries her she knows not whither this way she runs and now she will no further but back retires to rate the boor for murder

a thousand spleens bear her a thousand ways she treads the path that she untreads again her more than haste is mated with delays like the proceedings of a drunken brain full of respects yet not at all respecting in hand with all things not at all affecting

here kennel'd in a brake she finds a hound and asks the weary caitiff for his master and there another licking of his wound gainst venom soars the only sovran plaster and here she meets another sadly scowling to whom she speaks and he replies with howling

when he hath ceased this ill-resounding noise another flap-mouthed mourner black and grim against the welkin volleys out his voice another and another answer him clapping their proud tails to the ground below shaking their scratch'd ears bleeding as they go

look how the world's poor people are amazed at apparitions signs and prodigies whereon with fearful eyes they long have gazed infusing them with dreadful prophecies

so she at these sad sighs draws up her breath and sighing it again exclaims on death hard favor'd tyrant ugly meager lean hateful divorce of love thus chid she death grim grinning ghost earth's worm what dost thou mean to stifle beauty and to steal his breath who when he liv'd his breath and beauty set gloss on the rose smell to the violet

if he be dead o no it cannot be seeing his beauty thou shouldst strike at it o yes it may thou hast no eyes to see but hatefully at random dost thou hit

Thy mark is feeble age, but thy false dart Mistakes that aim, and cleaves an infant's heart. Hadst thou but bid beware, then he had spoke, And hearing him, thy power had lost his power. The destinies will curse thee for this stroke. They bid thee crop a weed, thou pluck'st a flower. Love's golden arrow at him should have fled, And not death's ebon dart to strike him dead.

dost thou drink tears that thou provok'st such weeping what may a heavy groan advantage thee why hast thou cast into eternal sleeping those eyes that taught all other eyes to see

now nature cares not for thy mortal vigor since her best work is ruin'd with thy rigor here overcome as one full of despair she veil'd her eyelids who like sluices stopp'd the crystal tide that from her two cheeks fair in the sweet channel of her bosom dropp'd but thro the flood-gates breaks the silver rain and with his strong course opens them again

Oh, how her eyes and tears did lend and borrow! Her eyes seen in the tears, tears in her eye, Both crystals where they viewed each other's sorrow, Sorrow that friendly sighs sought still to dry, But like a stormy day, now wind, now rain, Sighs dry her cheeks, tears make them wet again. Variable passions throng her constant woe, As striving who should best become her grief.

all entertain'd each passion labours so that every present sorrow seemeth chief but none is best they join them all together like many clouds consulting for foul weather

by this far off she hears some huntsman hollow a nurse's song noe'er pleas'd her babe so well the dire imagination she did follow this sound of hope doth labour to expel for now reviving joy bids her rejoice and flatters her it is adonis voice

whereat her tears began to turn their tide being prison'd in her eye like pearls in glass yet sometimes falls an orient drop beside which her cheek melts a scorning it should pass to wash the foul face of the sluttish ground who is but drunken when she seemeth drown'd

O hard-believing love, how strange it seems not to believe, and yet too credulous. Thy weal and woe are both of them extremes. Despair and hope make thee ridiculous. The one doth flatter thee in thoughts unlikely. In likely thoughts the other kills thee quickly.

now she unweaves the web that she hath wrought adonis lives and death is not to blame it was not she that call'd him all to naught now she adds honours to his hateful name she clefts him king of graves and grave for kings imperious supreme of all mortal things no no quoth she sweet death i did but jest

yet pardon me i felt a kind of fear whenas i met the boar that bloody beast which knows no pity but is still severe then gentle shadow truth i must confess i rail'd on thee fearing my love's decease

'Tis not my fault: the boar provoked my tongue. Be wreaked on him, invisible commander. 'Tis he, foul creature, that hath done thee wrong. I did but act: he's author of my slander. Grief hath two tongues, and never woman yet Could rule them both without ten women's wit. Thus hoping that Adonis is alive, her rash suspect Sile doth extenuate.

And that his beauty may the better thrive, With death she humbly doth insinuate, Tells him of trophies, statues, tombs, and stories, His victories, his triumphs, and his glories. O Jove! quoth she, how much a fool was I, To be of such a weak and silly mind, To wail his death who lives and must not die Till mutual overthrow of mortal kind,

For he being dead, with him is beauty slain, And beauty dead, black chaos comes again.

fie fie fond love thou art so full of fear as one with treasure laden hem'd with thieves trifles unwitness'd with eye or ear thy coward heart with false bethinking greeds even at this word she hears a merry horn whereat she leaps that was but late forlorn as falcon to the lure away she flies the grass stoops not she treads on it so light

and in her haste unfortunately spies the foul boar's conquest on her fair delight which seen her eyes as murder'd with the view like stars ashamed of day themselves withdrew or as the snail whose tender horns being hit shrinks backward in his shelly cave with pain and there all smother'd up in shade doth sit long after fearing to creep forth again

so at his bloody view her eyes are fled into the deep dark cabals of her head where they resign their office and their light to the disposing of her troubled brain who bids them still consort with ugly night and never wound the heart with looks again

who like a king perplexed in his throne by their suggestion gives a deadly groan whereat each tributary subject quakes as when the wind imprison'd in the ground struggling for passage earth's foundation shakes which with cold terror doth men's minds confound

this mutiny each part doth so surprise that from their dark beds once more leap her eyes and being open'd thro unwilling light upon the wide wound that the boar had trench'd in his soft flank whose wonted lily white with purple tears that his wound wept was drench'd no flower was nigh no grass herb leaf or weed but stole his blood and seem'd with him to bleed

This solemn sympathy poor Venus noteth. Over one shoulder doth she hang her head. Dumbly she passions, frantically she doteth. She thinks he could not die, he is not dead. Her voice is stopped, her joints forget to bow. Her eyes are mad that they have wept till now. Upon his hurt she looks so steadfastly, That her sight dazzling makes the wound seem three.

and then she reprehends her mangling eye that makes more gashes where no breach should be his face seems twain each several limb is doubled for oft the eye mistakes the brain being troubled my tongue cannot express my grief for one and yet quoth she behold two addons dead my sighs are blown away my salt tears gone mine eyes are turned to fire my heart to lead

Heavy heart's lead melts at mine eye's red fire, So shall I die by drops of hot desire. Alas, poor world, what treasure hast thou lost? What face remains alive that's worth the viewing? Whose tongue is music now? What canst thou boast of things long since, Or anything ensuing? The flowers are sweet, their colors fresh and trim, But true sweet beauty lived and died with him.

bonnet nor veil henceforth no creature wear nor sun nor wind will ever strive to kiss you having no fair to lose you need not fear the sun doth scorn you and the wind doth hiss you but when adonis liv'd sun and sharp air lurk'd like two thieves to rob him of his fair

and therefore would he put his bonnet on under whose brim the gaudy sun would peep the wind would blow it off and being gone play with his locks then would adonis weep and straight in pity of his tender years they both would strive who first should dry his tears

to see his face the lion walked along behind some hedge because he would not fear him to recreate himself when he hath sung the tiger would be tame and gently hear him if he had spoke the wolf would leave his prey and never fright the silly lamb that day

when he beheld his shadow in the brook the fishes spread on it their golden gills when he was by the birds such pleasure took that some would sing some others in their bills would bring him mulberries and ripe red cherries he fed them with his sight they him with berries

but this foul grim and urchin spouted boar whose downward eye still looketh for a grave ne'er saw the beauteous livery that he wore witness the entertainment that he gave

if he did see his face why then i know he thought to kiss him and hath killed him so tis true tis true thus was adonis slain he ran upon the boar with his sharp spear who did not wet his teeth at him again but by a kiss thought to persuade him there and nuzzling in his flank the loving swine sheathed unaware the tusk in his soft groin

had i been tooth'd like him i must confess with kissing him i should have kill'd him first but he is dead and never did he bless my youth with his the more am i accurst with this she falleth in the place she stood and stains her face with his congealed blood

She looks upon his lips, and they are pale. She takes him by the hand, and that is cold. She whispers in his ears a heavy tale, As if they heard the woeful words she told. She lifts the coffer-lid that close his eyes, Where, lo! two lamps burnt out in darkness lies, Two glasses where herself herself beheld A thousand times, and now no more reflect.

their vertue lost wherein they late excell'd and ev'ry beauty robb'd of his effect wonder of time quoth she this is my spite that you being dead the day should yet be light

since thou art dead lo here i prophesy sorrow on love hereafter shall attend it shall be waited on with jealousy find sweet beginning but unsavoury end ne'er settled equally but high or low that all love's pleasure shall not match his woe

it shall be fickle false and full of fraud bud and be blasted in a breathing while the bottom poison and the top o'erstrod with sweets that shall the truest sight beguile the strongest body shall it make most weak strike the wise dumb and teach the fool to speak

it shall be sparing and too full of riot teaching decrepit age to tread the measures the staring ruthian shall it keep in quiet pluck down the rich enrich the poor with treasures it shall be raging mad and silly mild make the young old the old become a child

it shall suspect where is no cause of fear it shall not fear where it should most mistrust it shall be merciful and too severe and most deceiving when it seems most just perverse it shall be where it shows most toward put fear to valor courage to the coward

it shall because of war and dire events and set dissension twixt the sun and sire subject and servile to all discontents as dry combustious matter is to fire sith in his prime death doth my love destroy they that love best their love shall not enjoy by this the boy that by her side lay kill'd was melted like a vapour from her sight

And in his blood that on the ground lay spilled, A purple flower sprung up, checkered with white, Resembling well his pale cheeks, and the blood Which in round drops upon their whiteness stood. She bows her head, the new-sprung flower to smell, Comparing it to her Adonis breath, and says within her bosom It shall dwell, since he himself is reft from her by death.

she drops the stalk and in the breach appears green dropping sap which she compares to tears poor flower quoth she this was thy father's guise sweet issue of a more sweet-smelling sire for every little grief to wet his eyes to grow unto himself was his desire and so tis shine but know it is as good to wither in my breast as in his blood

Here was thy father's bed, here in my breast, Thou art the next of blood, and tis thy right.

lo in this hollow cradle take thy rest my throbbing heart shall rock thee day and night there shall not be one minute in an hour wherein i will not kiss my sweet love's flower thus weary of the world away she hies and yokes her silver doves by whose swift aid their mistress mounted thro the empty skies in her light chariot quickly is convey'd

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