VENUS AND ADONIS
by William Shakespeare
Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo
Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
HENRY WRIOTHESLEY, EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON,
and Baron of Titchfield.
Right Honourable, I know not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burthen: only, if your honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a godfather, and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honourable survey, and your honour to your heart’s content; which I wish may always answer your own wish and the world’s hopeful expectation.
Your honour’s in all duty,
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.
VENUS AND ADONIS
Even as the sun with purple-colour’d face
Had ta’en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheek’d Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he lov’d, but love he laugh’d to scorn; 4
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
And like a bold-fac’d suitor ’gins to woo him.