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Authors: William Shakespeare

The Sonnets and Other Poems (6 page)

BOOK: The Sonnets and Other Poems
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‘Thou
hadst
613
been gone,’ quoth she, ‘sweet boy, ere this,
But that thou told’st me thou wouldst hunt the boar.
O, be
advised
615
! Thou know’st not what it is
With javelin’s point a
churlish
616
swine to gore,
      Whose
tushes
617
never sheathed he
whetteth still
,
      Like to a
mortal
618
butcher
bent
to kill.

‘On his
bow-back
619
he hath a
battle
set
Of bristly
pikes
620
that ever threat his foes,
His eyes like glow-worms shine when he doth
fret
621
,
His snout digs
sepulchres
622
where’er he goes:
      Being
moved
623
, he strikes whate’er is in his way,
      And whom he strikes, his crooked tushes slay.

‘His
brawny
625
sides with hairy bristles armed
Are better
proof
626
than thy spear’s point can enter,
His short thick neck cannot be easily harmed,
Being
ireful
628
on the lion he will
venture
:
      The thorny brambles and embracing bushes,
      As fearful of him, part, through whom he rushes.

‘Alas, he nought esteems that face of thine,
To which love’s eyes pays
tributary
632
gazes,
Nor thy soft hands, sweet lips and crystal
eyne
633
,
Whose full perfection all the world amazes,
      But having thee at
vantage
635
— wondrous dread! —
      Would
root
636
these beauties as he roots the
mead
.

‘O, let him keep his loathsome
cabin
637
still:
Beauty hath nought to do with such
foul
638
fiends.
Come not within his danger by thy
will
639
:
They that thrive well take counsel of their friends.
      When thou didst name the boar,
not to dissemble
641
,
      I feared thy fortune and my joints did tremble.

‘Didst thou not mark my face? Was it not white?
Saw’st thou not signs of fear lurk in mine eye?
Grew I not faint? And fell I not
downright
645
?
Within my bosom whereon thou dost lie,
      My
boding
647
heart pants, beats and takes no rest,
      But like an earthquake shakes thee on my breast.

‘For where love reigns, disturbing
jealousy
649
Doth call himself affection’s
sentinel
650
,
Gives false alarms,
suggesteth
651
mutiny,
And in a peaceful hour doth cry ‘Kill, kill!’
     
Distemp’ring
653
gentle love in his desire,
      As air and water do
abate
654
the fire.

‘This sour informer, this
bate-breeding
655
spy,
This
canker
656
that eats up love’s
tender spring
,
This
carry-tale
657
,
dissentious
jealousy,
That sometime true news, sometime false doth bring,
      Knocks at my heart and whispers in mine ear
      That if I love thee, I thy death should fear,

‘And more than
so
661
, presenteth to mine eye
The picture of an angry, chafing boar,
Under whose sharp fangs on
his
663
back doth lie
An image like thyself, all stained with gore,
      Whose blood upon the fresh flowers being shed
      Doth make them droop with grief and hang the head.

‘What should I do, seeing thee so
indeed
667
,
That
668
tremble at th’imagination?
The thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed,
And fear doth teach it
divination
670
;
      I prophesy thy death, my living sorrow,
      If thou encounter with the boar tomorrow.

‘But if thou
needs wilt
673
hunt, be ruled by me,
Uncouple
674
at the timorous
flying
hare,
Or at the fox which lives by
subtlety
675
,
Or at the
roe
676
which no
encounter
dare:
      Pursue these fearful creatures o’er the downs,
      And on thy
well-breathed
678
horse keep with thy hounds.

‘And when thou hast
on foot
679
the
purblind
hare,
Mark the poor wretch: to
overshoot
680
his troubles,
How he outruns the wind and with what care
He
cranks and crosses
682
with a thousand
doubles
.
      The many
musets
683
through the which he goes
      Are like a labyrinth to
amaze
684
his foes.

‘Sometime he runs among a flock of sheep
To make the
cunning
686
hounds mistake their smell,
And sometime where
earth-delving conies
687
keep
To stop the loud pursuers in their yell,
      And sometime
sorteth
689
with a herd of deer —
      Danger deviseth
shifts
690
, wit
waits on
fear —

‘For there his smell with others being mingled,
The hot scent-snuffing hounds are driven to doubt,
Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singled
With much
ado
694
the
cold fault
cleanly out.
      Then do they
spend their mouths
695
:
echo
replies,
      As if another chase were in the skies.

‘By this, poor
Wat
697
, far off upon a hill,
Stands on his hinder legs with list’ning ear
To harken if his foes pursue him still.
Anon their loud
alarums
700
he doth hear,
      And now his grief may be comparèd well
      To one
sore
702
sick that hears the
passing-bell
.

‘Then shalt thou see the
dew-bedabbled
703
wretch
Turn and
return
704
,
indenting
with the way.
Each
envious
705
briar his weary legs do scratch,
Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay:
      For misery is trodden on by many
      And, being low, never
relieved
708
by any.

‘Lie quietly and hear a little more —
Nay, do not struggle, for thou shalt not rise —
To make thee hate the hunting of the boar:
Unlike myself
712
thou hear’st me
moralize
,
      Applying this to that and so to so —
      For love can comment upon every woe.

‘Where did I
leave
715
?’ ‘No matter where’, quoth he,
‘Leave me and then the story
aptly
716
ends:
The night is spent.’ ‘Why, what of that?’ quoth she.
‘I am’, quoth he, ‘expected
of
718
my friends,
      And now ’tis dark and going I shall fall.’
      ‘In night’, quoth she, ‘desire sees best of all.

‘But if thou fall, O then imagine this,
The earth, in love with thee, thy footing trips,
And all is but to rob thee of a kiss.
Rich preys make
true
724
men thieves: so do thy lips
      Make
modest Dian
725
cloudy and forlorn,
      Lest she should steal a kiss and die
forsworn
726
.

‘Now
of this dark night I perceive the reason
727
:
Cynthia
728
for shame obscures her silver shine,
Till
forging
729
nature be condemned of treason
For stealing moulds from heaven that were divine,
      Wherein she
framed
731
thee, in
high heaven’s despite
,
      To shame the sun by day and her by night.

‘And therefore hath she bribed the
destinies
733
To
cross
734
the
curious
workmanship of nature,
To mingle beauty with infirmities
And pure perfection with impure
defeature
736
,
      Making it subject to the tyranny
      Of mad
mischances
738
and much misery,

‘As burning fevers,
agues
739
pale and faint,
Life-poisoning
pestilence
740
and frenzies
wood
,
The
marrow-eating sickness
741
whose
attaint
Disorder
742
breeds by heating of the
blood
,
     
Surfeits
743
,
impostumes
, grief and damned despair:
      Swear nature’s death for framing thee so fair.

‘And not the least of all these maladies
But in one minute’s fight brings beauty under:
Both
favour
747
,
savour
,
hue
and qualities,
Whereat th’impartial gazer late did wonder,
      Are on the sudden wasted, thawed and done,
      As mountain snow melts with the midday sun.

‘Therefore, despite of
fruitless
751
chastity,
Love-lacking
vestals
752
and
self-loving
nuns
That on the earth would breed a scarcity
And barren
dearth
754
of daughters and of sons,
      Be
prodigal
755
: the lamp that burns by night
      Dries up his
oil
756
to lend the world his light.

‘What is thy body but a swallowing grave,
Seeming to bury that posterity
Which by the rights of time thou needs must have,
If thou
destroy them not in dark obscurity
760
?
      If so, the world will hold thee in disdain,
     
Sith
762
in thy
pride
so fair a hope is
slain
.

‘So in thyself thyself art
made away
763
,
A
mischief
764
worse than civil home-bred strife,
Or theirs
whose
765
desperate
hands themselves do slay,
Or
butcher-sire
766
that
reaves
his son of life:
     
Foul-cank’ring
767
rust the hidden
treasure
frets
,
      But gold that’s
put to use
768
more gold begets.’

‘Nay, then,’ quoth Adon, ‘you will
fall
769
again
Into your idle
over-handled
770
theme;
The kiss I gave you is bestowed in vain,
And all in vain you strive against the stream,
      For, by this black-faced night, desire’s
foul
773
nurse,
      Your
treatise
774
makes me like you worse and worse.

‘If love have lent you twenty thousand tongues,
And every tongue more
moving
776
than your own,
Bewitching like the
wanton
777
mermaids’ songs,
Yet from mine ear the tempting tune is blown:
      For know, my heart stands armèd in mine ear
      And will not let a false sound enter there,


Lest
781
the deceiving harmony should run
Into the quiet
closure
782
of my breast,
And then my little heart were quite
undone
783
,
In his bedchamber to be barred of rest:
      No, lady, no! My heart longs not to groan,
      But soundly sleeps, while now it sleeps alone.

‘What have you urged that I cannot
reprove
787
?
The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger:
I hate not love, but your
device
789
in love
That lends embracements unto every stranger —
      You do it for increase? O strange excuse,
      When reason is the
bawd
792
to lust’s abuse!

‘Call it not love, for love to heaven is fled,
Since sweating lust on earth usurped his name,
Under whose simple
semblance
795
he hath fed
Upon fresh beauty,
blotting
796
it with blame,
     
Which
797
the
hot tyrant
stains
and soon
bereaves
,
      As caterpillars do the tender leaves.

‘Love comforteth like sunshine after rain,
But lust’s effect is tempest after sun:
Love’s gentle spring doth always fresh remain,
Lust’s winter comes ere summer half be done:
      Love surfeits not, lust like a glutton dies:
      Love is all truth, lust full of forgèd lies.

‘More I could tell, but more I dare not say:
The
text
806
is old, the orator too
green
.
Therefore in sadness now I will away.
My face is full of shame, my heart of
teen
808
,
      Mine ears, that to your wanton talk attended,
      Do burn themselves for having so offended.’

With this, he breaketh from the sweet embrace
Of those fair arms which bound him to her breast
And homeward through the dark
laund
813
runs
apace
,
Leaves love upon her back deeply distressed.
      Look how a bright star shooteth from the sky,
      So glides he in the night from Venus’
eye
816
,

Which after him she darts, as one on shore
Gazing upon a
late-embarkèd
818
friend
Till the wild waves will have him seen no more,
Whose
ridges
820
with the meeting clouds
contend
;
      So did the merciless and
pitchy
821
night
     
Fold in
822
the object that did feed her sight.

BOOK: The Sonnets and Other Poems
13.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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