Her champion mounted for the hot incounter All is imaginarie she doth proue He will not mannage her although he mount her That worse then Tantalus is her annoy To clip Elizium and to lacke her ioy Euen so poore birds deceiu'd with painted grapes Do surfet by the eye and pine the maw Euen so she languisheth in her mishaps As those poore birds that helplesse berries saw The warme effects which she in him finds missing She seekes to kindle with continuall kissing But all in vaine good Queene it will not bee She hath assai'd as much as may be prou'd Her pleading hath deseru'd a greater fee She 's loue she loues and yet she is not lou'd Fie fie he saies you crush me let me go You haue no reason to withhold me so Thou hadst bin gone quoth she sweet boy ere this But that thou toldst me thou woldst hunt the boare Oh be aduisd thou know'st not what it is VVith iauelings point a churlish swine to goare VVhose tushes neuer sheathd he whetteth still Like to a mortall butcher bent to kill On his bow-backe he hath a battell set Of brisly pikes that euer threat his foes His eyes like glow-wormes shine when he doth fret His snout digs sepulchers where ere he goes Being mou'd he strikes what ere is in his way And whom he strikes his crooked tushes slay His brawnie sides with hairie bristles armed Are better proofe then thy speares point can enter His short thick necke cannot be easily harmed Being irefull on the lyon he will venter The thornie brambles and imbracing bushes As fearefull of him part through whom he rushes Alas he naught esteem's that face of thine To which loues eyes paies tributarie gazes Nor thy soft handes sweet lips and christall eine VVhose full perfection all the world amazes But hauing thee at vantage wondrous dread VVold roote these beauties as he root 's the mead Oh let him keep his loathsome cabin still Beautie hath naught to do with such foule fiends Come not within his danger by thy will They that thriue well take counsell of their friends VVhen thou didst name the boare not to dissēble I feard thy fortune and my ioynts did tremble Didst thou not marke my face was it not white Sawest thou not signes of feare lurke in mine eye Grew I not faint and fell I not downe right VVithin my bosome whereon thou doest lye My boding heart pants beats and takes no rest But like an earthquake shakes thee on my brest For where loue raignes disturbing iealousie Doth call him selfe affections centinell Giues false alarmes suggesteth mutinie And in a peacefull houre doth crie kill kill Distempring gentle loue in his desire As aire and water do abate the fire This sower informer this bate-breeding spie This canker that eates vp loues tender spring This carry-tale dissentious iealousie That somtime true newes somtime false doth bring Knocks at my heart and whispers in mine eare That if I loue thee I thy death should feare And more then so presenteth to mine eye The picture of an angrie chafing boare Vnder whose sharpe fangs on his backe doth lye An image like thy selfe all staynd with goare VVhose blood vpon the fresh flowers being shed Doth make thē droop with grief hang the hed VVhat should I do seeing thee so indeed That tremble at th' imagination The thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed And feare doth teach it diuination I prophecie thy death my liuing sorrow If thou incounter with the boare to morrow But if thou needs wilt hunt be rul'd by me Vncouple at the timerous flying hare Or at the foxe which liues by subtiltie Or at the Roe which no incounter dare Persue these fearfull creatures o're the downes And on thy wel breathd horse keep with thy hoūds And when thou hast on foote the purblind hare Marke the poore wretch to ouer-shut his troubles How he outruns the wind and with what care He crankes and crosses with a thousand doubles The many musits though the which he goes Are like a laberinth to amaze his foes Sometime he runnes among a flocke of sheepe To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell And sometime where earth-deluing Conies keepe To stop the loud persuers in their yell And sometime sorteth with a heard of deare Danger deuiseth shifts wit waites on feare For there his smell with others being mingled The hot sent-snuffing hounds are driuen to doubt Ceasing their clamorous cry till they haue singled VVith much ado the cold fault cleanly out Then do they spend their mouth 's eccho replies As if an other chase were in the skies By this poore wat farre off vpon a hill Stands on his hinder-legs with listning eare To hearken if his foes pursue him still Anon their loud alarums he doth heare And now his griefe may be compared well To one sore sicke that heares the passing bell Then shalt thou see the deaw-bedabbled wretch Turne and returne indenting with the way Ech enuious brier his wearie legs do scratch Ech shadow makes him stop ech murmour stay For miserie is troden on by manie And being low neuer releeu'd by anie Lye quietly and heare a litle more Nay do not struggle for thou shalt not rise To make thee hate the hunting of the bore Vnlike my selfe thou hear'st me moralize Applying this to that and so to so For loue can comment vpon euerie wo. VVhere did I leaue no matter where quoth he Leaue me and then the storie aptly ends The night is spent why what of that quoth she I am quoth he expected of my friends And now t is darke and going I shall fall In night quoth she desire sees best of all But if thou fall oh then imagine this The earth in loue with thee thy footing trips And all is but to rob thee of a kis Rich prayes make true-men theeues so do thy lips Make modest Dyan cloudie and forlorne Lest she should steale a kisse and die forsworne Now of this darke night I perceiue the reason Cinthia for shame obscures her siluer shine Till forging nature be condemn'd of treason For stealing moulds from heauen that were diuine VVherin she fram'd thee in hie heauens despight To shame the sunne by day and her by night And therefore hath she brib'd the destinies To crosse the curious workmanship of nature To mingle beautie with infirmities And pure perfection with impure defeature Making it subiect to the tyrannie Of mad mischances and much miserie As burning feauers agues pale and faint Life-poysoning pestilence and frendzies wood The marrow-eating sicknesse whose attaint Disorder breeds by heating of the blood Surfets impostumes griefe and damnd dispaire Sweare natures death for framing thee so faire And not the least of all these maladies But in one minutes fight brings beautie vnder Both fauour sauour hew and qualities VVhereat the th' impartiall gazer late did wonder Are on the sudden wasted thawed and donne As mountain snow melts with the midday sonne Therefore despight of
disheueled heare Daunce on the sands and yet no footing seene Loue is a spirit all compact of fire Not grosse to sinke but light and will aspire VVitnesse this Primrose banke whereon I lie These forcelesse flowers like sturdy trees support me Two strēgthles doues will draw me through the skie From morne till night euen where I list to sport me Is loue so light sweet boy and may it be That thou should thinke it heauie vnto thee Is thine owne heart to thine owne face affected Can thy right hand ceaze loue vpon thy left Then woo thy selfe be of thy selfe reiected Steale thine own freedome and complaine on theft Narcissus so him selfe him selfe forsooke And died to kisse his shadow in the brooke Torches are made to light iewels to weare Dainties to tast fresh beautie for the vse Herbes for their smell and sappie plants to beare Things growing to them selues are growths abuse Seeds spring frō seeds beauty breedeth beauty Thou wast begot to get it is thy duty Vpon the earths increase why shouldst thou feed Vnlesse the earth with thy increase be fed By law of nature thou art bound to breed That thine may liue when thou thy selfe art dead And so in spite of death thou doest suruiue In that thy likenesse still is left aliue By this the loue-sicke Queene began to sweate For where they lay the shadow had forsooke them And Titan tired in the midday heate VVith burning eye did hotly ouer-looke them VVishing Adonis had his teame to guide So he were like him and by Venus side And now Adonis with a lazie sprite And with a heauie darke disliking eye His lowring browes ore-whelming his faire sight Like mistie vapors when they blot the skie So wring his cheekes cries fie no more of loue The sunne doth burne my face I must remoue Ay me quoth Venus young and so vnkinde VVhat bare excuses mak'st thou to be gon I le sigh celestiall breath whose gentle winde Shall coole the heate of this descending sun I le make a shadow for thee of my heares If they burn too I le quench them with my teares The sun that shines from heauen shines but warme And lo I lye betweene that sunne and thee The heate I haue from thence doth litle harme Thine eye darts forth the fire that burneth me And were I not immortall life were done Betweene this heauenly and earthly sunne Art thou obdurate flintie hard as steele Nay more then flint for stone at raine relenteth Art thou a womans sonne and canst not feele VVhat t is to loue how want of loue tormenteth O had thy mother borne so hard a minde She had not brought forth thee but died vnkind VVhat am I that thou shouldst contemne me this Or what great danger dwels vpon my sute VVhat were thy lips the worse for one poore kis Speake faire but speake faire words or else be mute Giue me one kisse I le giue it thee againe And one for intrest if thou wilt haue twaine Fie liuelesse picture cold and sencelesse stone VVell painted idoll image dull and dead Statüe contenting but the eye alone Thing like a man but of no woman bred Thou art no man though of a mans complexion For men will kisse euen by their owne direction This said impatience chokes her pleading tongue And swelling passion doth prouoke a pause Red cheeks and fierie eyes blaze forth her wrong Being Iudge in loue she cannot right her cause And now she weeps now she faine would speake And now her sobs do her intendments breake Sometime she shakes her head and then his hand Now gazeth she on him now on the ground Sometime her armes infold him like a band She would he will not in her armes be bound And when from thence he struggles to be gone She locks her lillie fingers one in one Fondling she saith since I haue hemd thee here VVithin the circuit of this iuorie pale I le be a parke and thou shalt be my deare Feed where thou wilt on mountaine or in dale Graze on my lips and if those hils be drie Stray lower where the pleasant fountains lie VVithin this limit is reliefe inough Sweet bottome grasse and high delightfull plaine Round rising hillocks brakes obscure and rough To shelter thee from tempest and from raine Then be my deare since I am such a parke No dog shal rowze thee though a thousand bark At this Adonis smiles as in disdaine That in ech cheeke appeares a prettie dimple Loue made those hollowes if him selfe were slaine He might be buried in a tombe so simple Foreknowing well if there he came to lie VVhy there loue liu'd there he could not die These louely caues these round inchanting pits Opend their mouthes to swallow Venus liking Being mad before how doth she now for wits Strucke dead at first what needs a second striking Poore Queene of loue in thine own law forlorne To loue a cheeke that smiles at thee in scorne Now which way shall she turne what shall she say Her words are done her woes the more increasing The time is spent her obiect will away And from her twining armes doth vrge releasing Pitie she cries some fauour some remorse Away he springs and hasteth to his horse But lo from forth a copp's that neighbors by A breeding Iennet Iustie young and proud Adonis trampling Courser doth espy And forth she rushes snorts and neighs aloud The strong-neckt steed being tied vnto a tree Breaketh his raine and to her straight goes hee Imperiously he leaps he neighs he bounds And now his wouen girthes he breaks asunder The bearing earth with his hard hoofe he wounds VVhose hollow wombe resounds like heauens thunder The yron bit he crusheth tweene his teeth Controlling what he was controlled with His eares vp prickt his braided hanging mane Vpon his compast crest now stand on end His nostrils drinke the aire and forth againe As from a fornace vapors doth he send His eye which scornfully glisters like fire Shewes his hote courage and his high desire Sometime he trots as if he told the steps VVith gentle maiestie and modest pride Anon he reres vpright curuets and leaps As who should say lo thus my strength is tride And this I do to captiuate the eye Of the faire breeder that is standing by VVhat recketh he his riders angrie sturre His flattering holla or his stand I say VVhat cares he now for curbe or pricking spurre For rich caparisons or trappings gay He sees his loue and nothing else he sees For nothing else with his proud sight agrees Looke when a Painter would surpasse the life In limming out a well proportioned steed His Art with Natures workmanship at strife As if the dead the liuing should exceed So did this Horse excell a common one In shape in courage colour pace and bone Round hooft short ioynted fetlocks shag and long Broad breast full eye small head and nostrill wide High crest short eares straight legs passing strōg Thin mane
fruitlesse chastitie Loue-lacking vestals and selfe-louing Nuns That on the earth would breed a scarcitie And barraine dearth of daughters and of suns Be prodigall the lampe that burnes by night Dries vp his oyle to lend the world his light VVhat is thy bodie but a swallowing graue Seeming to burie that posteritie VVhich by the rights of time thou needs must haue If thou destroy them not in darke obscuritie If so the world will hold thee in disdaine Sith in thy pride so faire a hope is slaine So in thy selfe thy selfe art made away A mischiefe worse then ciuill home-bred strife Or theirs whose desperat hands them selues do slay Or butcher sire that reaues his sonne of life Foule cankring rust the hidden treasure frets But gold that 's put to vse more gold begets Nay then quoth Adon you will fall againe Into your idle ouer-handled theame The kisse I gaue you is bestow'd in vaine And all in vaine you striue against the streame For by this black-fac't night desires foule nourse Your treatise makes me like you worse worse If loue haue lent you twentie thousand tongues And euerie tongue more mouing then your owne Bewitching like the wanton Marmaids songs Yet from mine eare the tempting tune is blowne For know my heart stands armed in mine eare And will not let a false sound enter there Lest the deceiuing harmonie should ronne Into the quiet closure of my brest And then my litle heart were quite vndone In his bed-chamber to be bard of rest No Ladie no my heart longs not to grone But soundly sleeps while now it sleeps alone VVhat haue you vrg'd that I can not reproue The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger I hate not loue but your deuise in loue That lends imbracements vnto euery stranger You do it for increase ô straunge excuse VVhen reason is the bawd to lusts abuse Call it not loue for loue to heauen is fled Since sweating lust on earth vsurpt his name Vnder whose simple semblance he hath fed Vpon fresh beautie blotting it with blame VVhich the hot tyrant staines soone bereaues As Caterpillers do the tender leaues Loue comforteth like sun-shine after raine But lusts effect is tempest after sunne Loues gentle spring doth alwayes fresh remaine Lusts winter comes ere sommer halfe be donne Loue surfets not lust like a glutton dies Loue is all truth lust full of forged lies More I could tell but more I dare not say The text is old the Orator too greene Therefore in sadnesse now I will away My face is full of shame my heart of teene Mine eares that to your wanton talke attended Do burne them selues for hauing so offended VVith this he breaketh from the sweet embrace Of those faire armes which bound him to her brest And homeward through the dark lawnd runs apace Leaues loue vpon her backe deeply distrest Looke how a bright star shooteth from the skye So glides he in the night from Venus eye VVhich after him she dartes as one on shore Gazing vpon a late embarked friend Till the wilde waues will haue him seene no more VVhose ridges with the meeting cloudes contend So did the mercilesse and pitchie night Fold in the obiect that did feed her sight VVhereat amas'd as one that vnaware Hath dropt a precious iewell in the flood Or stonisht as night wandrers often are Their light blowne out in some mistrustfull wood Euen so confounded in the darke she lay Hauing lost the faire discouerie of her way And now she beates her heart whereat it grones That all the neighbour caues as seeming troubled Make verball repetition of her mones Passion on passion deeply is redoubled Ay me she cries and twentie times wo wo And twentie ecchoes twentie times crie so She marking them begins a wailing note And sings extemporally a wofull dittie How loue makes yong-men thrall old men dote How loue is wise in follie foolish wittie Her heauie antheme still concludes in wo And still the quier of ecchoes answer so Her song was tedious and out-wore the night For louers houres are long though seeming short If pleasd themselues others they thinke delight In such like circumstance with such like sport Their copious stories oftentimes begunne End without audience and are neuer donne For who hath she to spend the night withall But idle sounds resembling parasits Like shrill-tongu'd Tapsters answering euerie call Soothing the humor of fantastique wits She sayes t is so they answer all t is so And would say after her if she said no. Lo here the gentle larke wearie of rest From his moyst cabinet mounts vp on hie And wakes the morning from whose siluer brest The sunne ariseth in his maiestie VVho doth the world so gloriously behold That Ceader tops and hils seeme burnisht gold Venus salutes him with this faire good morrow Oh thou cleare god and patron of all light From whom ech lamp and shining star doth borrow The beautious influence that makes him bright There liues a sonne that suckt an earthly mother May lend thee light as thou doest lend to other This sayd she hasteth to a mirtle groue Musing the morning is so much ore-worne And yet she heares no tidings of her loue She harkens for his hounds and for his horne Anon she heares them chaunt it lustily And all in hast she coasteth to the cry And as she runnes the bushes in the way Some catch her by the necke some kisse her face Some twin'd about her thigh to make her stay She wildly breaketh from their strict imbrace Like a milch Doe whose swelling dugs do ake Hasting to feed her fawne hid in some brake By this she heares the hounds are at a bay VVhereat she starts like one that spies an adder VVreath'd vp in fatall folds iust in his way The feare whereof doth make him shake shudder Euen so the timerous yelping of the hounds Appals her senses and her spirit confounds For now she knowes it is no gentle chase But the blunt boare rough beare or lyon proud Because the crie remaineth in one place VVhere fearefully the dogs exclaime aloud Finding their enemie to be so curst They all straine curt'sie who shall cope him first This dismall crie rings sadly in her eare Through which it enters to surprise her hart VVho ouercome by doubt and bloodlesse feare VVith cold-pale weakenesse nums ech feeling part Like soldiers when their captain once doth yeeld They basely flie and dare not stay the field Thus stands she in a trembling extasie Till cheering vp her senses all dismayd She tels them t is a causlesse fantasie And childish error that they are affrayd Bids thē leaue quaking bids them feare no more And with that word she spide the hunted boare VVhose frothie mouth bepainted all with red Like milke blood being mingled both togither A second feare through all her sinewes spred VVhich madly hurries her she knowes not whither This way she runs and now she will no further But backe retires to rate
not dead Her voice is stopt her ioynts forget to bow Her eyes are mad that they haue wept till now Vpon his hurt she lookes so stedfastly That her sight dazling makes the wound seem three And then she reprehends her mangling eye That makes more gashes where no breach shuld be His face seems twain ech seuerall lim is doubled For oft the eye mistakes the brain being troubled My tongue cannot expresse my griefe for one And yet quoth she behold two Adons dead My sighes are blowne away my salt teares gone Mine eyes are turn'd to fire my heart to lead Heauie hearts lead melt at mine eyes red fire So shall I die by drops of hot desire Alas poore world what treasure hast thou lost VVhat face remains aliue that 's worth the viewing VVhose tongue is musick now what cāst thou boast Of things long since or any thing insuing The flowers are sweet their colours fresh and trim But true sweet beautie liu'd and di'de with him Bonnet nor vaile henceforth no creature weare Nor sunne nor wind will euer striue to kisse you Hauing no faire to lose you need not feare The sun doth skorne you the wind doth hisse you But when Adnois liu'de sunne and sharpe aire Lurkt like two theeues to rob him of his faire And therefore would he put his bonnet on Vnder whose brim the gaudie sunne would peepe The wind would blow it off and being gon Play with his locks then would Adonis weepe And straight in pittie of his tender yeares They both would striue who first should drie his teares To see his face the Lion walkt along Behind some hedge because he would not fear him To recreate himself when he hath song The Tygre would be tame and gently heare him If he had spoke the wolfe would leaue his praie And neuer fright the sillie lambe that daie VVhen he beheld his shadow in the brooke The fishes spread on it their golden gils VVhen he was by the birds such pleasure tooke That some would sing some other in their bils VVould bring him mulberries ripe-red cherries He fed them with his sight they him with berries But this foule grim and vrchin-snowted Boare VVhose downeward eye still looketh for a graue Ne're saw the beautious liuerie that he wore VVitnesse the intertainment that he gaue If he did see his face why then I know He thought to kisse him and hath kild him so T is true t is true thus was Adnois slaine He ran vpon the Boare with his sharpe speare VVho did not whet his teeth at him againe But by a kisse thought to persuade him there And nousling in his flanke the louing swine Sheath'd vnaware the tuske in his soft groine Had I bin tooth'd like him I must confesse VVith kissing him I should haue kild him first But he is dead and neuer did he blesse My youth with his the more am I accurst VVith this she falleth in the place she stood And staines her faice with his congealed bloud She lookes vpon his lips and they are pale She takes him by the hand and that is cold She whispers in his eares a heauie tale As if they heard the wofull words she told She lifts the coffer-lids that close his eyes VVhere lo two lamps burnt out in darknesse lies Two glasses where her selfe her selfe beheld A thousand times and now no more reflect Their vertue lost wherein they late exceld And euerie beautie robd of his effect VVonder of time quoth she this is my spight That thou being dead the day shuld yet be light Since thou art dead lo here I prophecie Sorrow on loue hereafter shall attend It shall be wayted on with iealousie Find sweet beginning but vnsauorie end Nere setled equally but high or lo That all loues pleasure shall not match his wo. It shall be fickle false and full of fraud Bud and be blasted in a breathing while The bottome poyson and the top ore-strawd VVith sweets that shall the truest sight beguile The strongest bodie shall it make most weake Strike the wise dūbe teach the foole to speake It shall be sparing and too full of ryot Teaching decrepit age to tread the measures The staring ruffian shall it keepe in quiet Pluck down the rich inrich the poore with treasures It shall be raging mad and sillie milde Make the yoong old the old become a childe It shall suspect where is no cause of feare It shall not feare where it should most mistrust It shall be mercifull and too seueare And most deceiuing when it seemes most iust Peruerse it shall be where it showes most toward Put feare to valour courage to the coward It shall be cause of warre and dire euents And set dissention twixt the sonne and sire Subiect and seruill to all discontents As drie combustious matter is to fire Sith in his prime death doth my loue destroy They that loue best their loues shall not enioy By this the boy that by her side laie kild VVas melted like a vapour from her sight And in his blood that on the ground laie spild A purple floure sproong vp checkred with white Resembling well his pale cheekes and the blood VVhich in round drops vpō their whitenesse stood She bowes her head the new-sprong floure to smel Comparing it to her Adonis breath And saies within her bosome it shall dwell Since he himselfe is reft from her by death She crop's the stalke and in the breach appeares Green-dropping sap which she cōpares to teares Poore floure quoth she this was thy fathers guise Sweet issue of a more sweet smelling sire For euerie little griefe to wet his eies To grow vnto himselfe was his desire And so t is thine but know it is as good To wither in my brest as in his blood Here was thy fathers bed here in my brest Thou art the next of blood and t is thy right Lo in this hollow cradle take thy rest My throbbing hart shall rock thee day and night There shall not be one minute in an houre VVherein I wil not kisse my sweet loues floure Thus weary of the world away she hies And yokes her siluer doues by whose swift aide Their mistresse mounted through the emptie skies In her light chariot quickly is conuaide Holding their course to Paphos where their queen Meanes to immure her selfe and not be seen FINIS