« VorigeDoorgaan »
"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, hemm'd with thieves; "Trifles, unwitnessed with eye or ear, "Thy coward heart with false bethinking grieves." Even at this word she hears a merry horn, Whereat she leaps, that was but late forlorn.
As falcons to the lure, away she flies
Which seen, her eyes, as murder'd with the view, Like stars asham'd of day, themselves withdrew.
Or, as the snail, whose tender horns being hit,
So, at his bloody view, her eyes are fled
Where they resign their office and their light
Who, like a king perplexed in his throne,
Whereat each tributary subject quakes;
This mutiny each part doth so surprise,
That from their dark beds, once more, leap her eyes;
And, being open'd, threw unwilling light
With purple tears, that his wound wept, was
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;
Her voice is stopp'd, her joints forget to bow;
Upon his hurt she looks so steadfastly, That her sight dazzling makes the wound seem three;
And then she reprehends her mangling eye,
His face seems twain, each several limb is doubled;
[bled. For oft the eye mistakes, the brain being trou
"My tongue cannot express my grief for one, "And yet," quoth she, "behold two Adons dead! My sighs are blown away, my salt tears gone, "Mine eyes are turn'd to fire, my heart to lead; Heavy heart's lead, melt at mine eyes' 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 musick now? what canst thou boast
"Of things long since, or any thing ensuing? "The flowers are sweet, their colours fresh and trim;
"But true-sweet beauty liv'd and died with him.
"Bonnet nor veil henceforth no creature wear! "Nor sun nor wind will ever strive to kiss you : Having no fair 42 to lose, you need not fear; "The sun doth scorn you, and the wind doth hiss
"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; 42 fair] i. e. beauty.
"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, 66 They both would strive who first should dry his tears.
"To see his face, the lion walk'd 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 other 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-snouted 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 kill'd him so.
48 urchin-snouted] i. e. snouted like a hedgehog.
"'Tis true, 'tis true; thus was Adonis slain ; "He ran upon the boar with his sharp spear, "Who did not whet his teeth at him again, "But by a kiss thought to persuade him there; “And nuzzling in his flank, the loving swine "Sheath'd, 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;
As if they heard the woful words she told :
Two glasses where herself herself beheld
"Wonder of time," quoth she, "this is my
"That, thou being dead, the day should yet be