VENUS AND ADONIS. Vilia miretur vulgus mihi flavus Apollo EVEN as the sun with purple-colour'd face Here come and sit, where serpent never hisses, A summer's day will seem an hour but short, And, trembling in her passion, calls it bålm, Over one arm the lusty courser's rein, She red and hot, as coals of glowing fire, To tie the rider she begins to prove : Backward she push'd him, as she would be thrust, So soon was she along, as he was down, And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken, "If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open." He burns with bashful shame; she with her tears He says, she is immodest, blames her 'miss; Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast, Even so she kiss'd his brow, his cheek, his chin, Forc'd to content, but never to obey, Wishing her cheeks were gardens full of flowers, Look how a bird lies tangled in a net, So fasten'd in her arms Adonis lies; Pure shame and aw'd resistance made him fret, Perforce will force it overflow the bank. Still she entreats, and prettily entreats, Being red, she loves him best; and being white, Look how he can, she cannot choose but love; Till he take truce with her contending tears, Which long have rain'd, making her cheeks all wet; Upon this promise did he raise his chin, But when her lips were ready for his pay, Never did passenger in summer's heat I have been woo'd, as I entreat thee now, Over my altars hath he hung his lance, His batter'd shield, his uncontrolled crest, And for Thus him that over-rul'd, I oversway'd, O be not proud, nor brag not of thy might, |