William Shakespeare

Venus and Adonis
(an excerpt, lines 583-630)

  • '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 cheeks, she trembles at his tale,
  • And on his neck her yoking arms she throws:
  • She sinketh down, still hanging by his neck,
  • He on her belly falls, she on 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 and to lack her joy.
  •  
  • Even as poor birds, deceiv'd with painted grapes,
  • Do surfeit by the eye and pine the maw,
  • Even so she languisheth in her mishaps,
  • 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 wouldst 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.
  •  
  • '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;
  • His snout digs sepulchres where'er he goes;
  • Being mov'd, he strikes whate'er is in his way,
  • And whom he strikes his crooked tushes slay.
  •  
  • 'His brawny sides, with hairy bristles arm'd,
  • Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter;
  • His short thick neck cannot be easily harm'd;
  • Being ireful, on the lion he will venture:
  • The thorny brambles and embracing bushes,
  • As fearful of him part, through whom he rushes.
The complete works of William Shakespeare. Edited with a glossary by W. J. Craig. New York : Oxford University Press, 1914