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American Shakespeare Center, Love's Labour's Lost. To Jun. 15, 2013.

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Venus and Adonis (Quarto 1, 1592-3)

Author: William Shakespeare

Editor: Hardy M. Cook

Peer Reviewed

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Venus and Adonis (Modern)
Venus and Adonis (Quarto 1, 1592-3)
- Work
- Stanza
  1. Title Page
  2. Dedication
  3. 2 — 6
  4. 7 — 11
  5. 12 — 16
  6. 17 — 21
  7. 22 — 26
  8. 27 — 31
  9. 32 — 36
  10. 37 — 41
  11. 42 — 46
  12. 47 — 51
  13. 52 — 56
  14. 57 — 61
  15. 62 — 66
  16. 67 — 71
  17. 72 — 76
  18. 77 — 81
  19. 82 — 86
  20. 87 — 91
  21. 92 — 96
  22. 97 — 101
  23. 102 — 106
  24. 107 — 111
  25. 112 — 116
  26. 117 — 121
  27. 122 — 126
  28. 127 — 131
  29. 132 — 136
  30. 137 — 141
  31. 142 — 146
  32. 147 — 151
  33. 152 — 156
  34. 157 — 161
  35. 162 — 166
  36. 167 — 171
  37. 172 — 176
  38. 177 — 181
  39. 182 — 186
  40. 187 — 191
  41. 192 — 196
  42. 197 — 199
- Page
  1. 2
  2. 4
  3. 5
  4. 6
  5. 7
  6. 8
  7. 9
  8. 10
  9. 11
  10. 12
  11. 13
  12. 14
  13. 15
  14. 16
  15. 17
  16. 18
  17. 19
  18. 20
  19. 21
  20. 22
  21. 23
  22. 24
  23. 25
  24. 26
  25. 27
  26. 28
  27. 29
  28. 30
  29. 31
  30. 32
  31. 33
  32. 34
  33. 35
  34. 36
  35. 37
  36. 38
  37. 39
  38. 40
  39. 41
  40. 42
  41. 43
  42. 44
  43. 45
  44. 46
  45. 47
  46. 48
  47. 49
  48. 50
  49. 51
  50. 52
  51. 53
  52. 54
  53. 55

VENVS AND ADONIS.

1EVEN as the sunne with purple-colourd face,

¶Had tane his last leaue of the weeping morne,

¶Rose-cheekt Adonis hied him to the chace,

¶Hunting he lou'd, but loue he laught to scorne:

5_Sick-thoughted Venus makes amaine vnto him,

¶_And like a bold fac'd suter ginnes to woo him.

¶Thrise fairer then my selfe, (thus she began)

¶The fields chiefe flower, sweet aboue compare,

¶Staine to all Nimphs, more louely then a man,

10More white, and red, then doues, or roses are:

¶_Nature that made thee with her selfe at strife,

¶_Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.

¶Vouchsafe thou wonder to alight thy steed,

¶And raine his proud head to the saddle bow,

15If thou wilt daine this fauor, for thy meed

¶A thousand honie secrets shalt thou know:

¶_Here come and sit, where neuer serpent hisses,

¶_And being set, Ile smother thee with kisses.

B