“Oh let him keep his loathsome cabin still, 637 Beauty hath naught to do with such foul fiends: Come not within his danger by thy will; They that thrive well, take counsel of their friends. When thou didst name the boar, not to dissemble, I fear’d 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? 644 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 649 Doth call himself affection’s sentinel; Gives false alarms, suggesteth mutiny, And in a peaceful hour doth cry “Kill, kill!” 652 Distemp’ring 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, 656 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. 660 “And more than so, presenteth to mine eye The picture of an angry chafing boar, Under whose sharp fangs on his back doth lie An image like thyself, all stain’d with gore; 664 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 th’imagination? 668 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 tomorrow. 672 “But if thou needs wilt hunt, be rul’d by me; Uncouple at the timorous flying hare, Or at the fox which lives by subtilty, Or at the roe which no encounter dare: 676 Pursue these fearful creatures o’er the downs, And on thy well-breath’d horse keep with thy hounds. “And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare, Mark the poor wretch, to overshoot his troubles 680 How he outruns the wind, and with what care He cranks and crosses with a thousand doubles: The many musits through the which he goes Are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes. 684 “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, 688 And sometime sorteth with a herd of deer; Danger deviseth shifts, wit waits on fear. “For there his smell with others being mingled, 691 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. 696