Part 4

Lines 505–672

505 'Long may they kiss each other for this cure!
506 O! never let their crimson liveries wear;
507 And as they last, their verdure still endure,
508 To drive infection from the dangerous year:
509 That the star-gazers, having writ on death,
510 May say, the plague is banish'd by thy breath.
511 'Pure lips, sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted,
512 What bargains may I make, still to be sealing?
513 To sell myself I can be well contented,
514 So thou wilt buy and pay and use good dealing;
515 Which purchase if thou make, for fear of slips
516 Set thy seal-manual on my wax-red lips.
517 'A thousand kisses buys my heart from me;
518 And pay them at thy leisure, one by one.
519 What is ten hundred touches unto thee?
520 Are they not quickly told and quickly gone?
521 Say, for non-payment that the debt should double,
522 Is twenty hundred kisses such a trouble?'
523 'Fair queen,' quoth he, 'if any love you owe me,
524 Measure my strangeness with my unripe years:
525 Before I know myself, seek not to know me;
526 No fisher but the ungrown fry forbears:
527 The mellow plum doth fall, the green sticks fast,
528 Or being early pluck'd is sour to taste.
529 'Look! the world's comforter, with weary gait
530 His day's hot task hath ended in the west;
531 The owl, night's herald, shrieks, 'tis very late;
532 The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest,
533 And coal-black clouds that shadow heaven's light
534 Do summon us to part, and bid good night.
535 'Now let me say good night, and so say you;
536 If you will say so, you shall have a kiss.'
537 'Good night,' quoth she; and ere he says adieu,
538 The honey fee of parting tender'd is:
539 Her arms do lend his neck a sweet embrace;
540 Incorporate then they seem, face grows to face.
541 Till, breathless, he disjoin'd, and backward drew
542 The heavenly moisture, that sweet coral mouth,
543 Whose precious taste her thirsty lips well knew,
544 Whereon they surfeit, yet complain on drouth:
545 He with her plenty press'd, she faint with dearth,
546 Their lips together glu'd, fall to the earth.
547 Now quick desire hath caught the yielding prey,
548 And glutton-like she feeds, yet never filleth;
549 Her lips are conquerors, his lips obey,
550 Paying what ransom the insulter willeth;
551 Whose vulture thought doth pitch the price so high,
552 That she will draw his lips' rich treasure dry.
553 And having felt the sweetness of the spoil,
554 With blindfold fury she begins to forage;
555 Her face doth reek and smoke, her blood doth boil,
556 And careless lust stirs up a desperate courage;
557 Planting oblivion, beating reason back,
558 Forgetting shame's pure blush and honour's wrack.
559 Hot, faint, and weary, with her hard embracing,
560 Like a wild bird being tam'd with too much handling,
561 Or as the fleet-foot roe that's tir'd with chasing,
562 Or like the froward infant still'd with dandling,
563 He now obeys, and now no more resisteth,
564 While she takes all she can, not all she listeth.
565 What wax so frozen but dissolves with tempering,
566 And yields at last to every light impression?
567 Things out of hope are compass'd oft with venturing,
568 Chiefly in love, whose leave exceeds commission:
569 Affection faints not like a pale-fac'd coward,
570 But then woos best when most his choice is froward.
571 When he did frown, O! had she then gave over,
572 Such nectar from his lips she had not suck'd.
573 Foul words and frowns must not repel a lover;
574 What though the rose have prickles, yet 'tis pluck'd:
575 Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast,
576 Yet love breaks through and picks them all at last.
577 For pity now she can no more detain him;
578 The poor fool prays her that he may depart:
579 She is resolv'd no longer to restrain him,
580 Bids him farewell, and look well to her heart,
581 The which, by Cupid's bow she doth protest,
582 He carries thence incaged in his breast.
583 'Sweet boy,' she says, 'this night I'll waste in sorrow,
584 For my sick heart commands mine eyes to watch.
585 Tell me, Love's master, shall we meet to-morrow
586 Say, shall we? shall we? wilt thou make the match?'
587 He tells her, no; to-morrow he intends
588 To hunt the boar with certain of his friends.
589 'The boar!' quoth she; whereat a sudden pale,
590 Like lawn being spread upon the blushing rose,
591 Usurps her cheeks, she trembles at his tale,
592 And on his neck her yoking arms she throws:
593 She sinketh down, still hanging by his neck,
594 He on her belly falls, she on her back.
595 Now is she in the very lists of love,
596 Her champion mounted for the hot encounter:
597 All is imaginary she doth prove,
598 He will not manage her, although he mount her;
599 That worse than Tantalus' is her annoy,
600 To clip Elysium and to lack her joy.
601 Even as poor birds, deceiv'd with painted grapes,
602 Do surfeit by the eye and pine the maw,
603 Even so she languisheth in her mishaps,
604 As those poor birds that helpless berries saw.
605 The warm effects which she in him finds missing,
606 She seeks to kindle with continual kissing.
607 But all in vain, good queen, it will not be:
608 She hath assay'd as much as may be prov'd;
609 Her pleading hath deserv'd a greater fee;
610 She's Love, she loves, and yet she is not lov'd.
611 'Fie, fie!' he says, 'you crush me; let me go;
612 You have no reason to withhold me so.'
613 'Thou hadst been gone,' quoth she, 'sweet boy, ere this,
614 But that thou told'st me thou wouldst hunt the boar.
615 O! be advis'd; thou know'st not what it is
616 With javelin's point a churlish swine to gore,
617 Whose tushes never sheath'd he whetteth still,
618 Like to a mortal butcher, bent to kill.
619 'On his bow-back he hath a battle set
620 Of bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes;
621 His eyes like glow-worms shine when he doth fret;
622 His snout digs sepulchres where'er he goes;
623 Being mov'd, he strikes whate'er is in his way,
624 And whom he strikes his crooked tushes slay.
625 'His brawny sides, with hairy bristles arm'd,
626 Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter;
627 His short thick neck cannot be easily harm'd;
628 Being ireful, on the lion he will venture:
629 The thorny brambles and embracing bushes,
630 As fearful of him, part, through whom he rushes.
631 'Alas! he nought esteems that face of thine,
632 To which Love's eyes pay tributary gazes;
633 Nor thy soft hands, sweet lips, and crystal eyne,
634 Whose full perfection all the world amazes;
635 But having thee at vantage, wondrous dread!
636 Would root these beauties as he roots the mead.
637 'O! let him keep his loathsome cabin still;
638 Beauty hath nought to do with such foul fiends:
639 Come not within his danger by thy will;
640 They that thrive well take counsel of their friends.
641 When thou didst name the boar, not to dissemble,
642 I fear'd thy fortune, and my joints did tremble.
643 'Didst thou not mark my face? was it not white?
644 Saw'st thou not signs of fear lurk in mine eye?
645 Grew I not faint? And fell I not downright?
646 Within my bosom, whereon thou dost lie,
647 My boding heart pants, beats, and takes no rest,
648 But, like an earthquake, shakes thee on my breast.
649 'For where Love reigns, disturbing Jealousy
650 Doth call himself Affection's sentinel;
651 Gives false alarms, suggesteth mutiny,
652 And in a peaceful hour doth cry "Kill, kill!"
653 Distempering gentle Love in his desire,
654 As air and water do abate the fire.
655 'This sour informer, this bate-breeding spy,
656 This canker that eats up Love's tender spring,
657 This carry-tale, dissentious Jealousy,
658 That sometime true news, sometime false doth bring,
659 Knocks at my heart, and whispers in mine ear
660 That if I love thee, I thy death should fear:
661 'And more than so, presenteth to mine eye
662 The picture of an angry-chafing boar,
663 Under whose sharp fangs on his back doth lie
664 An image like thyself, all stain'd with gore;
665 Whose blood upon the fresh flowers being shed
666 Doth make them droop with grief and hang the head.
667 'What should I do, seeing thee so indeed,
668 That tremble at the imagination?
669 The thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed,
670 And fear doth teach it divination:
671 I prophesy thy death, my living sorrow,
672 If thou encounter with the boar to-morrow.

Notes

TLN 511rhetorical device
“sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted”
Venus sustains an extended commercial metaphor over six lines: lips are wax seals that stamp agreements, kisses are 'bargains,' and Adonis's touching her again is 'sealing' the deal. A 'seal-manual' (TLN 516) was a personal seal made by pressing the hand or a signet ring into hot wax to authenticate a legal document. Venus frames seduction as a binding contract.
TLN 517rhetorical device
“A thousand kisses buys my heart from me”
Venus converts kisses into a debt that compounds like loan interest: a thousand buys her heart, payable 'at leisure, one by one'; if unpaid, the debt doubles to twenty hundred. The stanza is a witty extension of the commercial conceit from the previous stanza, turning romance into an usurer's arithmetic.
TLN 524archaic vocab
“Measure my strangeness with my unripe years”
Adonis asks Venus to judge his reluctance ('strangeness') by his youth ('unripe years') — he is too young to understand love, let alone himself ('Before I know myself, seek not to know me'). He backs the argument with two nature comparisons: a fisherman lets small fry ('ungrown fry') go free, and a green plum clings to the branch and tastes sour if picked early. 'Strangeness' here means coldness or aloofness toward a wooer, not unfamiliarity.
classical Venus and Adonis
TLN 529archaic vocab
“the world's comforter, with weary gait”
'The world's comforter' is the sun, which has finished its day's journey in the west. Adonis uses the setting sun to argue they must part: the sheep are penned, birds have gone to their nests, and night is signalled by the 'owl, night's herald.' The sun is 'weary' because it has completed its daily task across the sky.
TLN 540archaic vocab
“Incorporate then they seem, face grows to face”
'Incorporate' means merged into one body — literally 'in-bodied together' (from Latin corpus, body). The narrator says that as Venus's arms embrace Adonis's neck and they fall kissing, the two seem to fuse into a single form. The word captures the completeness of the clinch before Adonis breaks free.
TLN 544archaic vocab
“complain on drouth”
'Drouth' is an archaic spelling of 'drought,' meaning extreme thirst or dryness. The paradox is that Venus's lips 'surfeit' (overindulge to the point of nausea) on Adonis's kisses, yet she still cries out of thirst ('drouth'). The oxymoron — satisfied yet still starving — is a standard Renaissance figure for erotic desire that can never be quenched.
TLN 550archaic vocab
“Paying what ransom the insulter willeth”
'Insulter' here means conqueror or triumphant oppressor — one who exults over a defeated enemy — from Latin insultare, to leap upon or trample. The lines develop a military metaphor: Venus's lips are 'conquerors,' Adonis's lips 'obey' and pay whatever 'ransom' the victorious insulter demands. The following line extends the image: her 'vulture thought' (greedy as a vulture) drives up the price until she has sucked his lips' 'rich treasure dry.'
TLN 554rhetorical device
“blindfold fury she begins to forage”
The narrator shifts from Venus as military victor to Venus as an animal foraging blindly for food. Her face 'reeks and smokes' (steams with heat — 'reek' is not yet a term for foul smell here), her blood boils, and 'careless lust' — desire that ignores consequences — pushes out reason ('beating reason back') and shame. The rapid catalogue of body, blood, and mind becoming disordered shows lust as a force that overrides every faculty.
classical Cupid's golden and leaden arrows
TLN 562archaic vocab
“like the froward infant still'd with dandling”
'Froward' means perversely contrary, stubbornly resistant — the opposite of 'toward' (cooperative). A 'froward infant' is a fractious baby who finally stops struggling when rocked or jiggled ('dandled'). The simile caps a triple comparison: Adonis is like a wild bird tamed by overhandling, a fleet deer run to exhaustion, and a contrary infant soothed by rocking — all three suggesting not willing consent but mere exhaustion of resistance.
TLN 581classical allusion
“by Cupid's bow she doth protest”
Venus swears an oath 'by Cupid's bow' — her son's weapon — that Adonis carries her heart imprisoned in his chest as he goes. Cupid, the Roman god of love (Greek Eros), was her son and was depicted carrying a bow with which he shot the arrows that caused mortals to fall in love. For Venus to swear by her son's bow is to invoke the very instrument of desire as her witness.
classical Cupid's golden and leaden arrows
TLN 599classical allusion
“worse than Tantalus' is her annoy”
Tantalus was a king condemned in the Greek underworld to stand in a pool of water beneath fruit-laden branches; whenever he bent to drink, the water receded, and whenever he reached for the fruit, the branches drew back. He gave his name to the word 'tantalize.' Venus's torment, the narrator says, is worse than his: she can 'clip' (embrace) Elysium — she has Adonis physically on top of her — yet still lacks her 'joy,' which makes her position more maddening than Tantalus's mere proximity.
TLN 601classical allusion
“birds, deceiv'd with painted grapes”
The simile refers to the ancient story of the painter Zeuxis, who supposedly painted grapes so realistically that birds flew down to peck at them. Birds 'surfeit by the eye' — overfed through sight alone — while their stomachs ('maw') starve. Venus similarly feasts on the sight and proximity of Adonis but gets no real satisfaction, because Adonis refuses to perform what proximity promises.
TLN 617archaic vocab
“Whose tushes never sheath'd he whetteth still”
'Tushes' are the long curved tusks of a boar; 'never sheath'd' means they are always exposed, never retracted like a cat's claws; 'whetteth' means continually sharpens. Venus is describing the boar's natural weaponry as permanently at the ready and constantly being honed — the creature lives in a state of perpetual armament. The comparison to 'a mortal butcher, bent to kill' (TLN 618) frames the boar as a professional killer rather than a wild animal.
TLN 619classical allusion
“On his bow-back he hath a battle set”
Venus delivers a set-piece portrait of the boar as a military force: its arched back ('bow-back') is like a battlefield ('battle') of bristling spears ('bristly pikes'), its eyes glow like worms when it is angry, its snout digs graves wherever it goes, and it attacks anything in its path. The boar was a conventional emblem of savage, undeflectable force in classical and Renaissance poetry. Ovid's description of the Calydonian boar in Metamorphoses 8 is the immediate model.
classical Ovid's Metamorphoses
TLN 633archaic vocab
“crystal eyne”
'Eyne' is the plural of 'eye' in archaic and poetic English, an older form that survived in verse for its sound. Venus is lamenting that the boar will not spare Adonis's beauty — not his face, his hands, his lips, or his clear ('crystal') eyes. 'Crystal' was a stock epithet for bright, transparent eyes in Elizabethan verse.
TLN 649rhetorical device
“where Love reigns, disturbing Jealousy”
Venus personifies Jealousy as a military spy who infiltrates the camp of Love: it 'calls itself Affection's sentinel' (a guard), gives 'false alarms,' stirs up 'mutiny,' and in peacetime cries 'Kill, kill!' — the signal to charge. She then piles up four more epithets in the next stanza: 'sour informer,' 'bate-breeding spy,' 'canker that eats up Love's tender spring,' and 'carry-tale' (gossip-carrier). This extended personification is called prosopopoeia — an abstract quality or feeling treated as a person who acts and speaks.
TLN 670rhetorical device
“fear doth teach it divination”
Venus claims that fear itself teaches her heart to prophesy: 'I prophesy thy death, my living sorrow, / If thou encounter with the boar to-morrow.' The idea that intense love or fear can give the heart prophetic knowledge — 'divination' — was a commonplace of Elizabethan psychology and rhetoric. The scene ends on this dire prophecy, which the poem will go on to fulfil. 'My living sorrow' addresses Adonis as both her living beloved and the source of future grief.