“But oh what banquet wert thou to the taste, 445
Being nurse and feeder of the other four;
Would they not wish the feast might ever last,
And bid suspicion double-lock the door,
Lest jealousy, that sour unwelcome guest,
Should by his stealing in disturb the feast?” 448
Once more the ruby-colour’d portal open’d,
Which to his speech did honey passage yield, 452
Like a red morn that ever yet betoken’d
Wrack to the seaman, tempest to the field,
Sorrow to shepherds, woe unto the birds,
Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds. 456
This ill presage advisedly she marketh:
Even as the wind is hush’d before it raineth,
Or as the wolf doth grin before he barketh,
Or as the berry breaks before it staineth, 460
Or like the deadly bullet of a gun,
His meaning struck her ere his words begun.
And at his look she flatly falleth down
For looks kill love, and love by looks reviveth; 464
A smile recures the wounding of a frown;
But blessed bankrout, that by love so thriveth!
The silly boy, believing she is dead,
Claps her pale cheek, till clapping makes it red. 468
And all amaz’d brake off his late intent,
For sharply he did think to reprehend her,
Which cunning love did wittily prevent:
Fair fall the wit that can so well defend her! 472
For on the grass she lies as she were slain,
Till his breath breatheth life in her again.
He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheeks,
He bends her fingers, holds her pulses hard, 476
He chafes her lips; a thousand ways he seeks
To mend the hurt that his unkindness marr’d:
He kisses her; and she, by her good will,
Will never rise, so he will kiss her still. 480
The night of sorrow now is turn’d to day:
Her two blue windows faintly she up-heaveth,
Like the fair sun when in his fresh array
He cheers the morn, and all the world relieveth: 484
And as the bright sun glorifies the sky,
So is her face illumin’d with her eye.
Whose beams upon his hairless face are fix’d,
As if from thence they borrow’d all their shine. 488
Were never four such lamps together mix’d,
Had not his clouded with his brow’s repine;
But hers, which through the crystal tears gave light
Shone like the moon in water seen by night. 492
“O where am I?” quoth she, “in earth or heaven?
Or in the ocean drench’d, or in the fire?
What hour is this? or morn or weary even?
Do I delight to die, or life desire? 496
But now I liv’d, and life was death’s annoy;
But now I died, and death was lively joy.
“O thou didst kill me; kill me once again:
Thy eyes’ shrewd tutor, that hard heart of thine, 500
Hath taught them scornful tricks, and such disdain,
That they have murder’d this poor heart of mine;
And these mine eyes, true leaders to their queen,
But for thy piteous lips no more had seen. 504