166991Now she vnweaues the web that she hath wrought,

992Adonis liues, and death is not to blame:

993It was not she that cald him all to nought;

994Now she ads honours to his hatefull name.

995 She clepes him king of graues, & graue for kings,

996 Imperious supreme of all mortall things.

167997No, no, quoth she, sweet death, I did but iest,

998Yet pardon me, I felt a kind of feare

999When as I met the boare, that bloodie beast,

1000Which knowes no pitie but is still seuere,

1001 Then gentle shadow (truth I must confesse)

1002 I rayld on thee, fearing my loues decesse.

1681003Tis not my fault, the Bore prouok't my tong,

1004Be wreak't on him (inuisible commaunder)

1005T'is he foule creature, that hath done thee wrong,

1006I did but act, he's author of thy slaunder.

1007 Greefe hath two tongues, and neuer woman yet,

1008 Could rule them both, without ten womens wit.

1691009Thus hoping that Adonis is aliue,

1010Her rash suspect she doth extenuate,

1011And that his beautie may the better thriue,

1012With death she humbly doth insinuate.

1013 Tels him of trophies, statues, tombes, and stories,

1014 His victories, his triumphs, and his glories.

1701015O Ioue quoth she, how much a foole was I,

1016To be of such a weake and sillie mind,

1017To waile his death who liues, and must not die,

1018Till mutuall ouerthrow of mortall kind?

1019 For he being dead, with him is beautie slaine,

1020 And beautie dead, blacke Chaos comes againe.