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Look, when a painter would surpass the life, Now was she just before him as he sat,
And like a lowly lover down she kneels ;
Her other tender hand his fair cheeks feels :
His tender cheeks receive her soft hands' print,
(strong, His eyes saw her eyes as they had not seen them; High crest, short ears, straight legs, and passing Her eyes woo'd still, his eyes disdain’d the wooThin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender bide:
ing: Look what a horse should have, he did not lack, And all this dumb play had his acts made plain Save a proud rider on so proud a back.
With tears, which, chorus-like, her eyes did rain. Sometimes he scuds far off, and there he stares, Full gently now she takes him) by the band, Anon he starts at stirring of a feather;
A lily prison’d in a jail of snow,
Or ivory in an alabaster band ;
Once more the engine of her thoughts began :
“O fa rest 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; Spurns at his love, and scorns the heat he feels,
For one sweet look thy help I would assure thee, Beating his kind embracements with her heels. Though nothing but my body's bane would cure
thee." Then, like a melancholy male-content,
“ Give me my hand,” saith he, “why dost thou He vails his tail, that, like a falling plame,
(have it; Cool shadow to his melting buttocks lent;
“Give me my heart," saith she, “and thou shalt He stamps, and bites the poor Ajes in his fume:
O give it me, lest thy hard heart do steel it, His love perceiving how he is enrag'd,
And, being steel'd, soft sighs can never grave it : Grew kinder, and his fury was assuag'd.
Then love's deep groans I never shall regard,
Because Adonis' heart hath made mine hard.” His testy master goeth about to take him ;
When lo, the unback'd breeder, full of fear, “ For shame," he cries, “ let go, and let me go ; Jealous of catching, swiftly doth forsake hiin, My day's delight is past, my horse is gone,
With her the horse, and left Adonis there: And 't is your fault I am bereft bim so;
Is how to get my palfrey from the mare."
Banning his boisterous and unruly beast; Thus she replies:- “Thy palfrey, as he should, And now the happy season ouce more fits,
Welcomes the warm approach of sweet desire. That love-sick love by pleading may be bless'd; Affection is a coal that must be coold; Por lovers say, the heart hath treble wrong,
Else, suffer'd, it will set tbe heart on fire : When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue. The sea hath bounds, but deep desire hath none,
Therefore no marvel though thy horse be gone. An oven that is stopp'd, or river stay'd, Burneth more hotly, swelleth with more rage:
“ How like a jade he stood, tied to a tree, So of concealed sorrow may be said ;
Servilely master'd with a leathern rein! Free vent of words love's fire doth assuage;
But when he saw his love, his youth's fair fee, But when the heart's attorney once is mute
He held such petty bondage in disdain; The client breaks, as desperate in his suit.
Throwing the base thong from his bending crest,
Enfranchising his mouth, his back, his breast. He sees her coming, and begins to glow,
“ Who sees his true love in her naked bed, (Even as a dying coal revives with wind)
Teaching the sheets a whiter hue than white, And with his bonnet hides his angry brow;
But, when his glutton eye so full hath fed, Looks on the doll earth with disturbed mind;
His other agents aim at like delight ? Taking no notice that she is so nigh,
Who is so faint, that dare not be so bold, For all askaunce he holds her in his eye.
To touch the fire, the weather being cold? O what a sight it was, wistly to view
“ Let me excuse thiy courser, gentle boy; How she came stealing to the wayward boy ! Aod learn of him, I heartily beseech thee, To note the fighting conflict of her hue!
To take advantage on presented joy; How white and red each other did destroy! Though I were dumb, yet his proceedings teac! But now, her cheek was pale, and by and by O learn to love; the lesson is but plain,
(thee It fash'd forth fire, as lightning from the sky. And, once made perfect, never lost again.
e know not lore," quoth he,“ nor will I know it, | And in amaze brake off his late iutent, Coless it be a boar, and then I chase it :
For sharply he did think to reprehend her, Tis much to borrow, and I will not owe it; Which cunning love did wittily prevent : My love to love is love but to disgrace it;
Fair fall the wit that can so well defend her! For I have heard it is a life in death,
For on the grass she lies as she were slain, That laughs, and weeps, and all but with a breath. Till his breath breatheth life in her again. « Who wears a garment shapeless and unfinish'd ? He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheeks,
Wbo placks the bad before one leaf put forth? He bends her fingers, holds her pulses bard; If springing things be any jot diminishd,
He chafes her lips, a thousand ways he seeks They wither in their prime, prove nothing worth : To mend the hurt that his unkindness marrd; The colt that 's back'd and burthen'd being young, He kisses her; and she, by her good will, Loseth his pride, and never waxeth strong. Will uerer rise, so be will kiss her still.
You hurt my hand with wringing ; let us part, The night of sorrow now is turn'd to day:
And leave tbis idle theme, this bootless chat: Her two blue windows faintly she up-heaveth, Remove your siege from my unyielding heart; Like the fair Sun, when in his fresh array To love's alarm it will not ope the gate.
He cheers the morn, and all the world relieveth: Dismiss your vows, your feigned tears, your flattery; And as the bright Sun glorifies the sky, For where a heart is hard, they make no battery.” So is ber face illumind with her eye, "What! canst thou talk," quoth she, “ hast thou Whose beams upon his hairless face are fix'd, a tongue ?
As if from thence they borrow'd all their shine. Owould thou hadst not, or I had no hearing! Were never four such lamps together mix d, Thy mermaid's voice hath done me double wrong;
Had not his clouded with his brows' repine; I had my load before, now press'd with bearing : But hers, which through the crystal tears gave light, Melodioas discord, heavenly tune barsh-sounding, Shone like the Moon, in water scen by night. Earth's deep-sweet music, and heart's deep-sore wounding.
“0, where am I ?" quoth she, “ in Earth or Hea
ven, * Had I do eyes, but ears, my ears would love Or in the ocean drench'd, or in the fire ? That inward beauty and invisible ;
What hour is this? or morn or weary even?
Do I delight to die, or life desire?
“ O thou didst kill me ;-kill me once again: "Say, that the sense of feeling were bereft me, Thy eyes' shrewd tntor, that hard heart of thine,
And that I could not see, nor hear, nor touch, Hath taught them scornful tricks, and such disdain, And nothing but the very smell were left me, That they have murder'd this poor heart of mine;
Yet would my love to thee be still as much ; And these mine eyes, true leaders to their queen, For from the still tory of thy face excelling (ing. But for thy piteous lips no more had seen. Comes breath perfum'd, that breatheth love by smell* But O, what banquet wert thou to the taste,
“ Long may they kiss each other, for this cure! Being nurse and feeder of the other four!
Oh, never let their crimson liveries wear! Would they not wish the feast should ever last,
And as they last, their verdure still endure,
To drive infection from the dangerous year! And bid Saspicion double-lock the door? Lest Jealousy, that sour unwelcome guest,
That the star-gazers, having writ on death, Soould, by his stealing in, disturb the feast."
May say, the plague is banisb’d by thy breath. Once more the ruby-colour'd portal open'd,
“ Pare lips, sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted, Which to bis speech did honey passage yield;
What bargains may I make, still to be sealing? Like a red mom, that ever get betoken'd
To sell myself I can be well contented, Wreck to the sea-man, tempest to the field,
So thou wilt buy, and pay, and use good dealing; Sorrow to sbepherds, woe onto the birds,
Which purchase if thou make, for fear of slips, Gast and foal flaws to herdmen and to herds.
Set thy seal-manual, on my wax-red lips. This ill presage advisedly she marketh :
“ A thousand kisses buys my heart from me; Eren as the wind is bush'd before it raineth, And pay them at thy leisure, one by one. Of as the wolf doth grin before he barketh, What is ten hundred kisses unto thee Or as the berry breaks before it staineth,
Are they not quickly told, and quickly gone? like the deadly bullet of a gun,
Say, for non-payment that the debt should double, His neaning struck her ere his words begun. Is twenty hundred kisses such a trouble ?" And at his look she flatly falleth down,
“Fair queen,” quoth he, “if any love you owe me, For looks kill love, and love by looks reviveth. Measure my strangeness with my unripe years; A smile recures the wounding of a frown, Before I know myself, seek not to know me;
Bat blessed bankrupt, that by love so thriveth! No fisher but the ungrown fry forbears : The silly boy believing she is dead,
The mellow plumb doth fall, the green sticks fast, Claps her pale cheek, till clapping makes it red; Or, being early pluck’d, is sour to taste.
“ Look, the world's comforter, with weary gait, “ The boar!” quoth she; whereat a sudden paie,
His day's hot task hath ended in the west: Like lawn being spread upon the blushing rose, The owl, night's herald, shrieks, 't is very late; Usurps her cheeks ; she trembles at bis tale,
The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest; And on his neck her yoking arms she throws : The coal-black clouds that shadow Heaven's light, She siuketh down, still hanging on his neck, Do summon us to part, and bid good night. He on her belly falls, she on her back. “ Now let me say good night, and so say you ; Now is she in the very lists of love, If you will say so, you shall bave a kiss."
Her champion mounted for the hot encounter : “ Good night,” quoth she; and ere he says adieu, | All is imaginary she doth prove, The honey fee of parting tender'd is :
He will not manage her, although he mount her ; Her arms do lend his neck a sweet embrace; That worse than Tantalus' is her annoy, Incorporate then they seem ; face grows to face. To clip Elysium, and to lack her joy. Till, breathless, he disjoin'd, and backward drew Eren as poor birds, deceiv'd with painted grapes,
The heavenly moisture, that sweet coral mouth, Do surfeit by the eye, and pine the maw, Whose precious taste her thirsty lips well knew, Even so she languisheth in her mishaps,
Whereon they surfeit, yet complain on drought: As those poor birds that helpless berries saw : He with her plenty pressid, she faint with dearth, The warm effects which she in him finds missing, (Their lips together glew'd) fall to the earth. She seeks to kindle with continual kissing. Now quick desire hath caught her yielding prey, But all in vain ; good queen, it will not be:
And glutton-like she feeds, yet never filleth; She hath assay'd as much as may be prov'd; Her lips are conquerors, his lips obey,
Her pleading hath deserv'd a greater fee; Paying what ransom the insulter willeth;
She's love, she loves, and yet she is not lov'd. Whose vulture thought doth pitch the price so high, Fie, fie!" he says, “ you crush me; let me go; That she will draw his lips' rich treasure dry. You have no reason to withhold me so." And having felt the sweetness of the spoil, “ Thou hadst been gone,” qnoth she, “sweet boy, With blind-fold fury she begins to forage;
[boar. Her face doth reek and smoke, her blood doth boil, But that thou told'st me, thou would'st hunt the
And careless lust stirs up a desperate courage; O be advis'd; thou know'st not what it is Planting oblivion, beating reason back,
With javelin's point a churlish swine to gore, Forgetting shame's pure blush, and honour's wrack. Whose tushes, never-sheath'd, he whettetb still,
Like to a mortal butcher, bent to kill.
Of bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes;
Or like the froward infant, still'd with dandling, His snout digs sepulchres where'er he goes; He now obeys, and now no more resisteth, Being mov'd, he strikes whate'er is in his way, While she takes all she can, not all she listeth. And whom he strikes his crooked tushes slay. What was so frozen but dissolves with temp'ring, “ His brawny sides, with hairy bristles armed,
And yields at last to every light impression ? Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter; Things out of hope are compass'd oft with vent'ring, His short thick neck cannot be easily harmed ; Chiefly in love, whose leave exceeds commission :
Being ireful, on the lion he will venture: Affection faints not like a pale-fac'd coward, The thorny brambles and embracing bushes, But then woos best, when most his choice is froward. As fearful of him, part; through whom he rushes. When he did frown, O bad she then gave over,
“ Alas! he nought esteems that face of thine, Such nectar from bis lips she had not suck'd.
To which Love's eye pays tributary gazes ; Foul words and frowns must not repel a lover;
What though the rose have pricks? yet'is it Northy soft hands, sweet lips, and crystal eyne, Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast, (pluck'd: But having thee at vantage (wondrous dread!),
Whose full perfection all the world amazes ; Yet love oreaks through, and picks them all at last.
Would root these beauties as he roots the mead. For pity now she can no more detain him; The poor fool prays her that he may depart:
“O! let him keep his loathsome cabin still ; She is resolv'd no longer to restrain him ;
Beauty hath nought to do with such foul fiends. Bids him farewell, and look well to her heart,
Come not within his danger by thy will; The which, by Cupid's bow she doth protest,
They that thrive well, take counsel of their friends. He carries thence incaged in his breast.
When thon did'st naine the boar, not to dissemble,
I feard thy fortune, and my joints did tremble. “ Sweet boy,” she says, “this night I'll waste in sor. row,
“ Did'st thou not mark my face? was it not white? Por my sick heart commands mine eyes to watch. Saw'st thou not signs of fear lurk in mine eye? Tell me, love's master, shall we meet to morrow? Grew I not faint ? And fell I not downright?
Say, shall we shall we ? wilt thou make the Within my bosom, whereon thon dost lie, He tells her, no; to morrow he intends (match?" My boding heart pants, beats, and takes no rest, To hunt the boar with certain of his friends. But, like an earthquake, shakes thee on my breast.
* For where love reigns, disturbing Jealousy “ Lie quietly, and hear a little more; Doth eall bimself affection's centinel ;
Nay, do not struggle, for thou shalt not rise: Gives false alarms, suggesteth mutiny,
To make thee bate the hunting of the boar, And in a peaceful hour doth cry, kill, kill! Unlike thyself, thou hear'st me moralize, Distemp'ring gentle love with bis desire,
Applying this to that, and so to so; As air and water doth abate the fire.
For love can comment upon every woe. " This sour informer, this bate-breeding spy, “ Where did Ileave ?"-"No matter where,"quoth
This canker that eats up love's tender spring, “ Leave me, and then the story aptly ends ; (he; This carry-tale, dissensious Jealousy, [bring. The night is spent.” “Why, what of that?" quoth
That sometimes true news, sometimes false doth Knocks at my heart, and whispers in mine ear, "I am," quoth he, “expected of my friends, That if I love thee, I thy death should fear : And now 't is dark, and going I shall fall.”
“ In night,” quoth she - desire sees best of all. " And more than so, presenteth to mine eye The picture of an angry-chafing boar,
“ But if thou fall, O then imagine this, Under whose sharp fangs on his back doth lie The Earth in love with thee thy footing trips,
An image like thyself, all stain'd with gore; And all is but to rob thee of a kiss.
Lest she should steal a kiss, and die forsworn. " What should I do, seeing thee so indeed, “ Now, of this dark night I perceive the reason : That trembling at th' imagination,
Cynthia for shame obscures her silver shine, The thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed? Till forging Nature be condemn’d of treason, And fear doth teach it divination :
For stealing mouldsfrom Heaven that were divine, I prophesy thy death, my living sorrow,
Wherein she fram'd thee in high Heaven's despite, If ihou encounter with the boar to morrow. To shame the Sun by day, and her by night. " But if thou needs wilt hunt, be ruld by me; " And therefore hath she brib'd the Destinies, Uncouple at the timorous flying hare,
To cross the curious workmanship of Nature, Or at the fox, which lives by subtilty,
To mingle beauty with infirmities, Or at a roe, which no encounter dare:
And pure perfection with impure defeature; Pursae these fearful creatures o'er the downs, Making it subject to the tyranny And on thy well-breath'd horse keep with thy hounds. Of sad mischances and much misery; “ And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare, “ As burning fevers, agues pale and faint,
Mark the poor wretch to overshot his troubles, Life-poisoning pestilence, and frenzies wood, How he out-runs the wind, and with what care The marrow-eating sickness, whose attaint
He cranks and crosses, with a thousand doubles : Disorder breeds by heating of the blood : The many musits through the which he goes, Surfeits, impostumes, grief, and damn'd despair, Are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes.
Swear Nature's death for framing thee so fair. * Sometime he runs among the flock of sheep, “ And not the least of all these maladies,
To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell; But in one minute's sight brings beauty under:
Whereat th' imperial gazer late did wonder, And sometime sorteth with a herd of deer;
Are on the sudden wasted, thaw'd and done, Danger deviseth shifts; wit waits on fear: As mountain-snow melts with the mid-day Sun. " For there his smell with others being mingled, “ Therefore, despite of fruitless chastity,
The bot scent-snuffing hounds are driven to doubt, Love-lacking vestals, and self-loving nuns, Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singled That on the Earth would breed a scarcity, With much ado the cold fault cleanly out;
And barren dearth of daughters and of sons, Then do they spend their mouths: Echo replies, Be prodigal: the lamp that burns by night, As if another chase were in the skies.
Dries up his oil, to lend the world his light. “ By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill,
“ What is thy body but a swallowing grave, Stands on his binder legs with listening ear, Seeming to bury that posterity To hearken if his foes pursue him still;
Which by the rights of time thou needs must have, Anon their loud alarums he doth hear;
If thou destroy them not in their obscurity ? And now his grief may be compared well
If so, the world will hold thee in disdain, To one sore-sick, that hears the passing bell. Sith in thy pride so fair a hope is slain. " Then shalt thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch “ So in thyself thyself art made away;
Turn, and return, indenting with the way ; A mischief worse than civil home-bred strife, Each envioos briar bis weary legs doth scratch, Or their's, whose desperate hands themselves do
Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay: Or butcher-sire, that reaves his son of life. (slay, For misery is trodden on by many,
Foul cankering rust the hidden treasure frets, And, being low, never reliev'd by any,
But gold that's put to use, more gold begets.
“ Nay then," quoth Adon, "you will fall again And now she beats her heart, whereat it groans, Into your idle over-handled theme;
That all the neighbour-caves,as seeming troubled,
Make verbal repetition of her moans;
And every tongue more moving than your own, And sings extemp'rally a woeful ditty ;
Yet from mine ear the tempting tune is blown; How love is wise in folly, foolish-witty: [dote ;
And still the choir of echoes answers so.
“ Love comforteth, like sun-shine after rain, Venus salutes him with this fair good morrow : Bu: Just's effect is tempest after sun;
“ O thou clear god, and patron of all light, Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain, From whom each lamp and shining star doth bor
Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done. Love surfeits not ; lust like a glutton dies:
The beauteous influence that makes him bright, Love is all truth ; lust full of forged lies.
There lives a son, that suck'd an earthly mother,
May lend thee light, as thou dost lend to other." " More I could tell, but more I dare not say; The text is old, the orator too green.
This said, she hasteth to a myrtle grove,
Musing the morning is so much o'erworn,
And all in haste she coasteth to the cry.
Of those fair arms which bound him to her breast, And as she runs, the bushes in the way And homeward through the dark lawns runs apace;
Some catch her by the neck, some kiss her face, Leaves Love upon her back deeply distress'd. Some twine about her thigh to make her stay; Look how a bright star shooteth from the sky,
She wildly breaketh from their strict embrace, So glides he in the night from Venus' eye;
Like a milch doe, whose swelling dugs do ache,
Hasting to feed her fawn hid in some brake.
By this, she hears the hounds are at a bay,
Whereat she starts, like one that spies an adder Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend;
Wreath'd up in fatal folds, just in his way, So did the merciless and pitchy night
The fear whereof doth make him shake and shud. Fold in the object that did feed her sight.
Even so the timorous yelping of the hounds [der :
Appals her senses, and her spright confounds.
For now she knows it is no gentle chase,
Because the cry remaineth in one place,
Finding their enemy to be so curst,