He tells her no; to-morrow he intends

To hunt the boar with certain of his friends.

"The boar!" quoth she; whereat a sudden pale,
Like lawn being spread upon the blushing rose,
Usurps her cheeks; she trembles at his tale,
And on his neck her yoking arms she throws:
She sinketh down, still hanging by his neck,
He on her belly falls, she on her back.

Now is she in the very lists of love,
Her champion mounted for the hot encounter:
All is imaginary she doth prove,

He will not manage her, although he mount her;
That worse than Tantalus' is her annoy,

To clip Elysium, and to lack her joy.

Even as poor birds, deceived with painted grapes,'
Do surfeit by the eye, and pine the maw,
Even so she languisheth in her mishaps,

As those poor birds that helpless 2 berries saw:
The warm effects which she in him fiuds missing,
She seeks to kindle with continual kissing.

But all in vain; good queen, it will not be :
She hath assayed as much as may be proved;
Her pleading hath deserved a greater fee ;
She's Love, she loves, and yet she is not loved.
"Fie, fie," he says, "you crush me; let me go;
You have no reason to withhold me so."

1 The allusion is to the picture of Zeuxis, mentioned by Pliny. We may observe that there was no English translation of Pliny so early as the date of this poem.

2 Helpless, that afford no help.

"Thou hadst been gone," quoth she, "sweet boy, ere

this,

But that thou told'st me thou wouldst hunt the

boar.

O, be advised! thou know'st not what it is
With javelin's point a churlish swine to gore,
Whose tushes never-sheathed he whetteth still,
Like to a mortal1 butcher, bent to kill.

"On his bow-back he hath a battle set
Of bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes;
His eyes like glowworms shine when he doth fret:
His snout digs sepulchres where'er he goes

Being moved, he strikes whate'er is in his way,
And whom he strikes, his cruel tushes slay.

"His brawny sides, with hairy bristles armed,
Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter;
His short thick neck cannot be easily harmed;
Being ireful, 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 pay tributary gazes;
Nor thy soft hands, sweet lips, and crystal eyne,
Whose full perfection all the world amazes;

But having thee at vantage, (wondrous dread!)
Would root these beauties as he roots the mead.

"O, let him keep his loathsome cabin still! Beauty hath nought to do with such foul fiends:

1 Mortal, deadly.

Come not within his danger1 by thy will;

They that thrive well take counsel of their friends. When thou didst name the boar, not to dissemble, 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? Within my bosom, whereon thou dost lie,

My boding heart pants, beats, and takes no rest, But like an earthquake, shakes thee on my breast.

"For where Love reigns, disturbing Jealousy
Doth call himself Affection's sentinel;
Gives false alarms, suggesteth mutiny,

And in a peaceful hour doth cry, Kill, kill;'
Distempering gentle Love in his desire,

As air and water do abate the fire.

"This sour informer, this bate-breeding spy, This canker that eats up love's tender spring,3 This carry-tale, 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, presenteth to mine eye The picture of an angry-chafing boar,

1 Danger, power of doing harm. So in the Merchant of Venice, Act IV. Sc. I. :

"You stand within his danger."

See note on that passage.

2 Bate signifies strife. Mrs. Quickly says that John Rugby is no breed-bate.

Under whose sharp fangs on his 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,
That tremble at the imagination?

The thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed,
And fear doth teach it divination:

I prophesy thy death, my living sorrow,

If thou encounter with the boar to-morrow.

"But if thou needs wilt hunt, be ruled by me; Uncouple at the timorous, flying hare,

Or at the fox, which lives by subtilty,

Or at the roe, which no encounter dare:

Pursue these fearful creatures o'er the downs, And on thy well-breathed horse keep with thy hounds.

"And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare,
Mark the poor wretch, to overshoot1 his troubles,
How he outruns the wind, and with what care
He cranks and crosses with a thousand doubles:
The many musits3 through the which he goes
Are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes.

1 Overshoot. The original editions read overshut. This read. ing is retained by Malone.

2 Cranks, winds. So in Henry IV. Part I.: —

"See how this river comes me cranking in."

3 Musits. The term is explained in Markham's "Gentlemen's Academy," 1595: "We term the place where she [the hare] sitteth her form; the place through which she goes to relief her musit."

"Sometime he runs among a flock of sheep,
To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell,
And sometime where earth-delving conies keep,'
To stop the loud pursuers in their yell;

And sometime sorteth 2 with a herd of deer
Danger deviseth shifts; 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 the cold fault cleanly out;

Then do they spend their mouths: Echo replies, As if another chase were in the skies.

"By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill,
Stands on his hinder legs with listening ear,
To hearken if his foes pursue him still;
Anon their loud alarums he doth hear;

And now his grief may be comparéd well
To one sore sick that hears the passing-bell.

"Then shalt thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch
Turn, and return, indenting with the way;
Each envious brier his weary legs doth scratch,
Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay:
For misery is trodden on by many,
And being low, never relieved 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 thou hear'st me moralize,3

1 Keep, dwell.

2 Sorteth, consorteth.

3 Moralize, comment.