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hear'st me moralize；
Applying this to that； and so to so； For love can comment upon every
woe。
'Where did I leave？' 'No matter where；' quoth he 'Leave me； and then
the story aptly ends：
The night is spent；' 'Why； what of that？' quoth she。 'I am；' quoth he；
'expected of 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 men thieves； so do thy lips Make modest Dian
cloudy and forlorn； Lest she should steal a kiss and die forsworn。
'Now of this dark night I perceive the reason： Cynthia for shame
obscures her silver shine
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Till forging Nature be condemn'd of treason； For stealing moulds
from heaven that were divine； Wherein she fram'd thee in high heaven's
despite； To shame the sun by day and her by night。
'And therefore hath she brib'd the Destinies； To cross the curious
workmanship of nature To mingle beauty with infirmities； And pure
perfection with impure defeature；
Making it subject to the tyranny Of mad mischances and much
misery；
'As burning fevers； agues pale and faint； Life…poisoning pestilence and
frenzies wood；
The marrow…eating sickness； whose attains Disorder breeds by
heating of the blood； Surfeits； imposthumes； grief； and damn'd 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； savour hue； and qualities； Whereat the
impartial gazer late did wonder；
Are on the sudden wasted； thaw'd and done； As mountain…snow melts
with the mid…day sun。
'Therefore； despite of fruitless chastity； Love…lacking vestals and self…
loving nuns；
That on the earth would breed a scarcity And barren dearth of
daughters and of sons； Be prodigal： the lamp that burns by night Dries up
his oil 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？
If so； the world will hold thee in disdain； Sith in thy pride so fair a
hope is slain。
'So in thyself thyself art made away； A mischief worse than civil
home…bred strife；
Or theirs whose desperate hands themselves do slay； Or butcher…sire
that reeves his son of life。 Foul…cankering rust the hidden treasure frets；
But gold that's put to use more gold begets。'
'Nay then；' quoth Adon； 'you will fall again Into your idle over…handled
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theme； The kiss I gave you is bestow'd in vain； And all in vain you strive
against the stream；
For by this black…fac'd night； desire's foul nurse； Your treatise makes
me like you worse and worse。
'If love have lent you twenty thousand tongues； And every tongue
more moving than your own；
Bewitching like the wanton mermaid's songs； Yet from mine ear the
tempting tune is blown； For know； my heart stands armed in mine ear； And
will not let a false sound enter there；
'Lest the deceiving harmony should run Into the quiet closure of my
breast； And then my little heart were quite undone； In his bedchamber to
be barr'd of rest。
No； lady； no； my heart longs not to groan； But soundly sleeps； while
now it sleeps alone。
'What have you urg'd that I cannot reprove？ The path is smooth that
leadeth on to danger；
I hate not love； but your device in love That lends embracements unto
every stranger。 You do it for increase： O strange excuse！ When reason is
the bawd to lust's abuse。
'Call it not； love； for Love to heaven is fled； Since sweating Lust on
earth usurp'd his name； Under whose simple semblance he hath fed Upon
fresh beauty； blotting it with blame；
Which 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 forged lies。
'More I could tell； but more I dare not say； The text is old； the orator
too green。 Therefore； in sadness； now I will away； My face is full of
shame； my heart of teen：
Mine ears； that to your wanton talk attended Do burn themselves for
having so offended。'
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With this he breaketh from the sweet embrace
Of those fair arms which bound him to her breast； And homeward
through the dark laund runs apace； Leaves Love upon her back deeply
distress'd。 Look； how a bright star shooteth from the sky So glides he in
the night from Venus' eye；
Which after him she darts； as one on shore Gazing upon a late…
embarked friend； Till the wild waves will have him seen no more； Whose
ridges with the meeting clouds contend：
So did the merciless and pitchy night Fold in the object that did feed
her sight。
Whereat amaz'd； as one that unaware Hath dropp'd a precious jewel in
the flood；
Or 'stonish'd as night…wanderers often are； Their light blown out in
some mistrustful wood； Even so confounded in the dark she lay； Having
lost the fair discovery of her way。
And now she beats her heart； whereat it groans； That all the neighbour
caves； as seeming troubled； Make verbal repetition of her moans； Passion
on passion deeply is redoubled：
'Ay me！' she cries； and twenty times； 'Woe； woe！' And twenty echoes
twenty times cry so。
She marking them； begins a wailing note； And sings extemporally a
woeful ditty；
How love makes young men thrall and old men dote； How love is
wise in folly foolish…witty： Her heavy anthem stili concludes in woe； And
still the choir of echoes answer so。
Her song was tedious； and outwore the night； For lovers' hours are
long； though seeming short： If pleas'd themselves； others； they think；
delight In such like circumstance； with such like sport：
Their copious stories； oftentimes begun； End without audience； and
are never done。
For who hath she to spend the night withal； But idle sounds resembling
parasites；
Like shrill…tongu'd tapsters answering every call； Soothing the
humour of fantastic wits？ She says； 〃Tis so：' they answer all； 〃Tis so；' And
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would say after her； if she said 'No'。
Lo！ here the gentle lark； weary of rest； From his moist cabinet
mounts up on high； And wakes the morning； from whose silver breast The
sun ariseth in his majesty；
Who doth the world so gloriously behold； That cedar…tops and hills
seem burnish'd gold。
Venus salutes him with this fair good morrow： 'O thou clear god； and
patron of all light；
From whom each lamp and shining star doth borrow The beauteous
influence that makes him bright； Ther