And now Adonis, with a lazy spright,
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 tace; I must remove.'

'Ah me!' quoth Venus, 'young, and so unkind?
What bare excuses makest 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 heavenly 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.

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 com

plexion ;

For men will kiss even 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 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.

■ Intentions.

Fondling,' she saith, since I have hemm'd 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 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:
Love made those hollows, if himself were slain,
He might be buried in a tomb so simple;

Foreknowing well, if there he came to lie,

Why there Love lived, and there he could not die.

These lovely caves, these round enchanting pits,
Open'd 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

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,
A breeding jennet, lusty, young, and proud,
Adonis' trampling courser doth espy,

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,
And now his woven girths he breaks asunder;
The bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds,
Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven's thun

der:

The iron bit he crusheth 'tween his teeth,
Controlling what he was controlled with.

His ears up prick'd; his braided hanging mane
Upon his compass'd 2 crest now stand on end;
His nostrils drink the air, and forth again,
As from a furnace, vapors doth he send:

1 Kemorse is here used for tenderness.

Arched.

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 stır,
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,
For 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, color, pace, and bone.

Round-hoof'd, 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.