« ÎnapoiContinuă »
Is thine own heart to thine own face affected?
Steal thine own freedom, and complain on theft.
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,
By this, the love-sick queen began to sweat,
1 For attired.
And now Adonis, with a lazy spright,
Souring his cheeks, cries. 'Fie, no more of love! The sun doth burn my tace; I must remove.'
'Ah me!' quoth Venus, 'young, and so unkind?
If they burn too, I'll quench them with my
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;
'Art thou obdurate, flinty, hard as steel?
She had not brought forth thee, but died unkind.1
1 Without children.
What am I, that thou shouldst contemn me this? 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 even by their own direction.'
This said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue,
And now her sobs do her intendments 1 break.
Sometimes she shakes her head, and then his hand; Now gazeth she on him, now on the ground; Sometimes her arms infold 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 hemm'd thee
Within the circuit of this ivory pale,
I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer;
• Within this limit is relief enough;
Then be my deer, 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:
Foreknowing well, if there he came to lie,
Why there Love lived, and there he could not
These lovely caves, these round enchanting pits,
Now which way shall she turn? what shall she
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 favor! some remorse!' i Away he springs, and hasteth to his horse.
But, lo, from forth a copse that neighbors by,
And forth she rushes, snorts, and neighs aloud:
The strong-neck'd steed, being tied unto a tree, Breaketh his rein, and to her straight goes he.
Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds,
The iron bit he crusheth 'tween his teeth,
His ears up prick'd; his braided hanging mane
I Remorse is here used for tenderness.