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Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Hardy M. Cook
Peer Reviewed

Venus and Adonis (Quarto 1, 1592-3)


VVhen he did frowne, ô had she then gaue ouer,
Such nectar from his lips she had not suckt,
Foule wordes, and frownes, must not repell a louer,
VVhat though the rose haue prickles, yet tis pluckt?
575VVere beautie vnder twentie locks kept fast,
Yet loue breaks through, & picks them all at last.

For pittie now she can no more detaine him,
The poore foole praies her that he may depart,
She is resolu'd no longer to restraine him,
580Bids him farewell, and looke well to her hart,
The which by Cupids bow she doth protest,
He carries thence incaged in his brest.

Sweet boy she saies, this night ile wast in sorrow
For my sick heart commands mine eyes to watch,
585Tell me loues maister, shall we meete tomorrow,
Say, shall we, shall we, wilt thou make the match?
He tell's her no, to morrow he intends,
To hunt the boare with certaine of his frends.

The boare (quoth she) whereat a suddain pale,
590Like lawne being spred vpon the blushing rose,
Vsurpes her cheeke, she trembles at his tale,
And on his neck her yoaking armes she throwes.
She sincketh downe, still hanging by his necke,
He on her belly fall's, she on her backe.