Fair
queen, quoth he, if any love you owe me,
Meature my ftrangeness with my unripe years;
Before I know myself, feek not to know me;
No fisher but the ungrown fry forbears:

The mellow plumb doth fall, the green fticks faft,
Or being early pluck'd, is four to taste.

late;

Look, the world's comforter, with weary gait,
His day's hot tafk hath ended in the Weft:
The owl, night's herald, fhrieks +, 'tis very
The fheep are gone to fold, birds to their neft;
The coal-black clouds that fhadow heaven's light,
Do fummon us to part, and bid good night.

Now let me fay good night, and so say you;

If

you will fay fo, you fhall have a kifs. Good night, quoth fhe; and, ere he fays adieu, The honey fee of parting tender'd is:

Her arms do lend his neck a fweet embrace;
Incorporate then they feem; face grows to face.

Till, breathless, he disjoin'd, and backward drew
The heavenly moisture, that sweet coral mouth,
Whose precious tafte her thirsty lips well knew,
Whereon they furfeit, yet complain on drought:
He with her plenty prefs'd, the faint with dearth,
(Their lips together glew'd) fall to the earth.

The owl, night's herald, fhrieks, &c.] So, in Macbeth:
"It was the owl that shriek'd, that fatal bellman
"That gives the ftern'ft good-night."

In Romeo and Juliet, the lark is called the herald of the morn.
STEEVENS.

a fweet embrace ;

Incorporate then they feem; face grows to face.] So, in K.

Henry VIII:

แ

-how they clung

"In their embracements, as they grew together."

STEEVENS.

Now

Now quick Defire hath caught her yielding prey,
And glutton-like the feeds, yet never filleth;
Her lips are conquerors, his lips obey,
Paying what ranfom the infulter willeth;

Whofe vulture thought doth pitch the price fo high,

That she will draw his lips' rich treasure dry.

And having felt the sweetness of the spoil,
With blind-fold fury fhe begins to forage;
Her face doth reek and fmoke, her blood doth
boil,

And careless luft ftirs up a defperate courage;
Planting oblivion, beating reafon back,

Forgetting fhame's pure blufh, and honour's
wrack 6.

Hot, faint, and weary, with her hard embracing, Like a wild bird being tam'd with too much handling, Or as the fleet-foot roe, that's tir'd with chafing, Or like the froward infant, ftill'd with dandling,

He now obeys, and now no more refifteth, While fhe takes all fhe can, not all fhe lifteth 7.

What wax fo frozen but diffolves with temp'ring, And yields at laft to every light impreffion?

Forgetting fame's pure blush, and honour's wrack.] Here the poet charges his heroine with having forgotten what the can never be fuppofed to have known. Shakspeare's Venus may furely fay with Quartilla in Petronius: "Junonem meam iratam habeam, fi unquam me meminerim virginem fuiffe." STEEVENS.

While he takes all he can, not all be lifieth.] Thus Pope's Eloifa:

"Give all thou canft, and let me dream the rest."

AMNER.

diffolves with temp'ring, And yields at laft to every light impreffion ?] So, in K. Henry IV. P. II: "I have him already tempering between my finger and my thumb, and fhortly will I feal with him."

STEEVENS.

Things out of hope are compafs'd oft with vent'ring, Chiefly in love, whofe leave exceeds commiffion 9: Affection faints not like a pale-fac'd coward,

But then woos beft, when moft his choice is froward.

When he did frown, O had the then gave over,
Such nectar from his lips fhe had not fuck'd.
Foul words and frowns muft not repel a lover;
What though the rose have pricks? yet is it pluck'd:
Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast,
Yet love breaks through, and picks them all at last.

For pity now she can no more detain him;
The poor fool prays her that he may depart:
She is refolv'd no longer to reftrain him;
Bids him farewel, and look well to her heart,
The which, by Cupid's bow the doth protest",
He carries thence incaged in his breast 3.

Sweet boy, the fays, this night I'll wafte in forrow,
For my fick heart commands mine eyes to watch.
Tell me, love's mafter, fhall we meet to morrow?
Say, fhall we? fhall we? wilt thou make the match?
He tells her, no; to morrow he intends

To hunt the boar with certain of his friends.

-whose leave exceeds commiffion :] i. e. whofe licentiousness. STEEVENS. • The poor fool -] This was formerly an expreffion of tendernefs. So, King Lear, fpeaking of Cordelia :

2

"And my poor fool is hang'd." MALONE.

-by Cupid's bow he doth proteft,] So, in The Midfummer Night's Dream:

"Ifwear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow." MALONE. 3 He carries thence incaged in his breaft.] Thus the Duodecimo, 1600. So, in K. Richard II:

"And yet incaged in fo fmall a verge-"

The edition of 1636 and all the modern copies have engaged.

MALONE.

The

The boar! (quoth fhe) whereat a fudden pale,
Like lawn being spread upon the blufhing rofe+,
Ufurps her cheeks; fhe trembles at his tale,
And on his neck her yoking arms the throws:
She finketh down, ftill hanging on his neck,
He on her belly falls, fhe on her back.

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

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

To clip Elyfium, and to lack her joy 6.

Even as poor birds, deceiv'd with painted grapes", Do furfeit by the eye, and pine the maw,

The boar! (quoth he) whereat a fudden pale,

Like lawn being fpread upon the blushing rofe,] So, in The Sheepheard's Song of Venus and Adonis, by H. C. printed in Eng land's Helicon, 1600:

"Now he fayd, let's goe,

"Harke the hounds are crying;

"Griflie boare is up,

"Huntfmen follow faft,

"At the name of boare

"Venus feemed dying:

"Deadly-colour'd pale

66

Rofes overcaft." MALONE.

Like lawn being Spread upon the blushing rofe,] So again, in The Rape of Lucrece

66

red as rofes that on lawn we lay."

STEEVENS.

s—in the very lifts of love,] So alfo, one Dryden, in his play called Don Sebaflian:

"The fprightly bridegroom on his wedding night,
"More gladly enters not the lifts of love."

AMNER.

To clip Elyfium, and to lack her joy.] To clip in old language is to embrace MALONE.

7

birds deceiv'd with painted grapes,] Alluding to a cele brated work of one of the ancient painters. STEEVENS.

Even fo the languifheth in her mifhaps,
As thofe poor birds that helpless berries faw :
The warm effects which the in him finds miffing,
She feeks to kindle with continual kiffing'.

But all in vain; good queen, it will not be :
She hath affay'd as much as may be prov'd;
Her pleading hath deferv'd a greater fee;
She's Love, the loves, and yet fhe is not lov'd.
Fie, fie, he fays, you crufh me; let me go;
You have no reason to withhold me fo.

Thou had'ft been gone, quoth fhe, fweet boy, ere this,

But that thou told'st me, thou would'st hunt the boar.
O be advis'd; thou know'ft not what it is

With javelin's point a churlish fwine to gore,
Whose tufhes never-fheath'd he whetteth ftill,
Like to a mortal butcher, bent to kill.

On his bow-back he hath a battle fet
Of briftly pikes, that ever threat his foes;
His eyes, like glow-worms fhine when he doth fret ;
His fnout digs fepulchres where-e'er he goes;

As thofe poor birds that helpless berries faw:] Berries incapable of being eaten; with which they could not help themfelves.

MALONE.

Helpless berries are berries that afford no help, i. e. nourishment.

STEEVENS.

• The warm effects -] I think we should read affects. So, in Othello:

the young affects

⋅ She feeks to kindle with continual kiffing.] So, in Antony and

Cleopatra:

"Quicken with kiffing:-had my lips that power "Thus would I wear them out." STEEVENS. * Like to a mortal butcher,- -1 Mortal for deadly.

MALONE.

Being