And having felt the sweetness of the spoil, Her face doth reek and smoke, her blood doth boil, Planting oblivion, beating reason back, Hot, faint and weary, with her hard embracing, Like a wild bird being tamed with too much handling, What wax so frozen but dissolves with tempering, Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward, 561 But then woos best when most his choice is froward. When he did frown, O, had she then gave over, 571 Yet love breaks through, and picks them all at last. For pity now she can no more detain him; The which, by Cupid's bow she doth protest, 580 'Sweet boy,' she says, 'this night I'll waste in sorrow, sick heart commands mine eyes to watch. For my Tell me, love's master, shall we meet to-morrow? Say, shall we? shall we? wilt thou make the match?' To hunt the boar with certain of his friends. The boar!' quoth she: whereat a sudden pale, Usurps her cheek; she trembles at his tale, Now is she in the very lists of love, He will not manage her, although he mount her; To clip Elysium, and to lack her joy. Even so poor birds, deceived with painted grapes, As those poor birds that helpless berries saw. The warm effects which she in him finds missing 590 600 But all in vain; good queen, it will not be : 'Fie, fie,' he says, 'you crush me; let me go; 610 Thou hadst been gone,' quoth she, 'sweet boy, ere this, But that thou told'st me thou wouldst hunt the boar. O, be advised: thou know'st not what it is With javelin's point a churlish swine to gore, 'On his bow-back he hath a battle set Of bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes; His eyes, like glow-worms, shine when he doth fret ; Being moved, he strikes whate'er is in his way, 620 'His brawny sides, with hairy bristles armed, Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter; His short thick neck cannot be easily harmed; Being ireful, on the lion he will venture : The thorny brambles and embracing bushes, As fearful of him, part; through whom he rushes. 'Alas, he nought esteems that face of thine, But having thee at vantage-wondrous dread !— 631 ❝O, let him keep his loathsome cabin still; They that thrive well take counsel of their friends. 640 I fear'd thy fortune, and my joints did tremble. |