And all-amaz'd brake 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 marr'd;
He kisses her; and she, by her good will,
Will never rise, so he will kiss her still.

The night of sorrow now is turn'd 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 earth relieveth
And as the bright sun glorifies the sky,

So is her face illumin'd with her eye;

90

Whose beams upon his hairless face are fix'd,
As if from thence they borrow'd all their shine.
Were never four such lamps together mix'd,
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.

O! where am I? quoth she; in earth or heaven,
Or in the ocean drench'd, or in the fire?
What hour is this? or morn, or weary even?
Do I delight to die, or life desire?

But now I liv'd, 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 tutor, that hard heart of thine,

All the old editions except the first have world instead of earth.

H.

Hath taught them scornful tricks, and such disdam,
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 verdure still endure,
To drive infection from the dangerous year!
That the star-gazers, having writ on death,
May say, the plague is banish'd 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,

21

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 pluck'd, is sour to taste.

Look, the world's comforter, with weary gait,
His day's hot task hath ended in the west:

21 Slips was a term for certain counterfeit coin. See Rome and Juliet, Act ii. sc. 4, note 9.

H.

The owl, night's herald, shrieks, 'tis very late;
The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest;
And coal-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 tender'd 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 heavenly 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 the 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 wrack.

Ilot, faint, and weary with her hard embracing, Like a wild bird being tam'd with too much han dling;

Or as the fleet-foot roe, that's tired with chasing; Or like the froward infant, still'd 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 compass'd oft with venturing,
Chiefly in love, whose leave exceeds commission :
Affection faints not like a pale-fac'd coward,

But then wooes best, when most his choice is froward.
When he did frown, O! had she then gave over,
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, love's 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 cheek: she trembles at his tale,
And on his neck her yoking arm she throws;
She sinketh down, still hanging by his neck;
He on her belly falls, she or 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,22 and to lack her joy.

Even as poor birds, deceiv'd with painted grapes,
Do surfeit by the eye, and pine the maw,23
Even so she languisheth in her mishaps,

24

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 assay'd as much as may be prov'd;
Her pleading hath deserv'd a greater fee;
She's love, she loves, and yet she is not lov'd.
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 would'st hunt the boar.
O, be advis'd! thou know'st not what it is
With javelin's point a churlish swine to gore,
Whose tushes never-sheath'd he whetteth still,
Like to a mortal butcher, bent to kill.25

On his bow-back he hath a battle set
Of bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes;

2 To clip was often used for to embrace.

H.

2 Alluding to the picture of Zeuxis, in which the grapes are said to have been represented so well that the birds mistook them for cature's own work.

24 That is, berries that afford no help or nourishment 95 Mortal was continually used for deadly.

H.

H