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Venus and Adonis (Quarto 1, 1592-3)

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Hardy M. Cook
Peer Reviewed
Oh let him keep his loathsome cabin still,
Beautie hath nanght to do with such foule fiends,
Come not within his danger by thy will,
640They that thriue well, take counsell of their friends,
VVhen thou didst name the boare, not to dissēble,
I feard thy fortune, aud my ioynts did tremble.
Didst thou not marke my face, was it not white?
Sawest thou not signes of feare lurke in mine eye?
645Grew 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,
650Doth 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.
655This 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,
660That 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,
665VVhose blood vpon the fresh flowers being shed,
Doth make thē droop with grief, & hang the hed.