36211Fie, liuele
sse pi
cture, cold, and
sencele
sse
stone,
212Well painted idoll, image dull, and dead,
213Statüe contenting but the eye alone,
214Thing like a man, but of no woman bred:
215 Thou art no man, though of a mans complexion,
216 For men will ki
sse euen by their owne dire
ction.
37217This
said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue,
218And
swelling pa
ssion doth prouoke a pau
se,
219Red cheeks, and
fierie eyes blaze forth her wrong:
220Being Iudge in loue,
she cannot right her cau
se.
221 And now
she weeps, & now
she faine would
speake
222 And now her
sobs do her intendments breake.
38223Sometime
she
shakes her head, and then his hand,
224Now gazeth
she on him, now on the ground;
225Sometime her armes infold him like a band,
226She would, he will not in her armes be bound:
227 And when from thence he
struggles to be gone,
228 She locks her lillie
fingers one in one.
39229Fondling,
she
saith,
since I haue hemd thee here
230Within the circuit of this iuorie pale,
231Ile be a parke, and thou
shalt be my deare:
232Feed where thou wilt, on mountaine, or in dale;
233 Graze on my lips, and if tho
se hils be drie,
234 Stray lower, where the plea
sant fountaines lie.
40235Witin this limit is reliefe inough,
236Sweet bottome gra
sse, and high delightfull plaine,
237Round ri
sing hillocks, brakes ob
scure, and rough,
238To
shelter thee from tempe
st, and from raine:
239 Then be my deare,
since I am
such a parke,
240 No dog
shal rowze thee, though a thou
sand bark.