Per. Look, who kneels here! Flesh of thy And what this fourteen years no razor touch'd, flesh, Thaisa; To grace thy marriage-day, I'll beautify. Thai. Lord Cerimon hath letters of good credit, sir, Thy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina For she was yielded there. Blest, and mine own! I know you not. Per. You have heard me say, when I did fly from Tyre, I left behind an ancient substitute: I have named him oft. Thai. 'Twas Helicanus then. Per. Still confirmation: Embrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he. 50 Thai. Lord Cerimon, my lord; this man, Through whom the gods have shown their power; that can 60 From first to last resolve you. Per. Reverend sir, Cer. 70 Per. Pure Dian, bless thee for thy vision! I Will offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa, This prince, the fair-betrothed of your daughter, Shall marry her at Pentapolis. And now, This ornament Makes me look dismal will I clip to form; VENUS AND ADONIS. 'Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.' TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY, EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, AND BARON OF TICHFIELD. RIGHT HONOUrable, I KNOW not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burde only, if your honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a god-father, and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honourable survey. and your honour to your heart's content; which I wish may always answer your own wish and the world's hopeful expectation. EVEN as the sun with purple-colour'd face 'Thrice-fairer than myself,' thus she began, 10 Nature that made thee, with herself at strife, 'Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed, Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses, 'And yet not cloy thy lips with loathed satiety, Over one arm the lusty courser's rein, 20 30 Your honour's in all duty, WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. He burns with bashful shame: she with her tears Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast, Forced to content, but never to obey, Never did passenger in summer's heat O, pity,' 'gan she cry, 'flint-hearted boy! 'Tis but a kiss I beg; why art thou coy? 'I have been woo'd, as I entreat thee now, Even by the stern and direful god of war, Whose sinewy neck in battle ne'er did bow, Who conquers where he comes in every jar: 100 Yet hath he been my captive and my slave, And begg'd for that which thou unask'd shalt have. Look in mine eye-balls, there thy beauty lies; Then why not lips on lips, since eyes in eyes? 'Art thou ashamed to kiss? then wink again, 121 And I will wink; so shall the day seem night; Love keeps his revels where there are but twain; Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight: These blue-vein'd violets whereon we lean Never can blab, nor know not what we mean. 'The tender spring upon thy tempting lip 130 Shows thee unripe; yet mayst thou well be tasted: But having no defects, why dost abhor me? Thou canst not see one wrinkle in my brow; Mine eyes are gray and bright and quick in turning; 140 My beauty as the spring doth yearly grow, felt, Would in thy palm dissolve, or seem to melt. 'Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear, Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire. 150 'Witness this primrose bank whereon I lie; These forceless flowers like sturdy trees support 'Torches are made to light, jewels to wear, Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use, Herbs for their smell, and sappy plants to bear: Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse: Seeds spring from seeds and beauty breedeth beauty; Thou wast begot; to get it is thy duty. 170 Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed, Unless the earth with thy increase be fed? By law of nature thou art bound to breed, That thine may live when thou thyself art dead; And so, in spite of death, thou dost survive, By this the love-sick queen began to sweat, I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer; Sweet bottom-grass and high delightful plain, Round rising hillocks, brakes obscure and ro 180 To shelter thee from tempest and from rain: And now Adonis, with a lazy spright, 190 'Ay me,' quoth Venus, 'young, and so unkind? 209 'What am I, that thou shouldst contemn me this? Thou art no man, though of a man's complexion, This said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue, And now her sobs do her intendments break. 221 Then be my deer, since I am such a park: 29, 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 de These lovely caves, these round enchanting 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 forlora, To love a cheek that smiles at thee in scorn! Now which way shall she turn? what shall she say? Her words are done, her woes the more increasing. But, lo, from forth a copse that neighbours by, The strong-neck'd steed, being tied unto a tree. Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds, The iron bit he crusheth 'tween his teeth, His eye, which scornfully glisters like fire, He sees his love, and nothing else he sees, I Then, like a melancholy malcontent, His testy master goeth about to take him; As they were mad, unto the wood they hie them, All swoln with chafing, down Adonis sits, An oven that is stopp'd, or river stay'd, But when the heart's attorney once is mute, He sees her coming, and begins to glow, O, what a sight it was, wistly to view eyes saw her eyes as they had not seen them; Her eyes woo'd still, his eyes disdain'd the wooing: And all this dumb play had his acts made plain With tears, which, chorus-like, her eyes did rain. Full gently now she takes him by the hand, 361 This beauteous combat, wilful and unwilling, Once more the engine of her thoughts began: 'O fairest mover on this mortal round, Would thou wert as I am, and I a man, 369 My heart all whole as thine, thy heart my wound; For one sweet look thy help I would assure thee, Though nothing but my body's bane would cure thee.' 'Give me my hand,' saith he, 'why dost thou feel it? 'Give me my heart,' saith she, 'and thou shalt have it ; O, give it me, lest thy hard heart do steel it, And being steel'd, soft sighs can never grave it: Then love's deep groans I never shall regard, Because Adonis' heart hath made mine hard.' 380 'For shame,' he cries, 'let go, and let me go; Thus she replies: "Thy palfrey, as he should, The sea hath bounds, but deep desire hath none; How like a jade he stood, tied to the tree, 391 Servilely master'd with a leathern rein! But when he saw his love, his youth's fair fee, He held such petty bondage in disdain; Throwing the base thong from his bending crest, 'Who sees his true-love in her naked bed, 400 |