This said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue, And swelling passion doth provoke a pause; Red cheeks and fiery eyes blaze forth her wrong; Being judge in love, she cannot right her cause. 220 And now she weeps, and now she fain would speak, And now her sobs do her intendments break. Sometimes she shakes her head, and then his hand, Now gazeth she on him, now on the ground; 224 Sometimes her arms infold him like a band: She would, he will not in her arms be bound; And when from thence he struggles to be gone, She locks her lily fingers one in one. 228 “Fondling,” she saith, “since I have hemm’d thee here Within the circuit of this ivory pale, I’ll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer; Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale: 232 Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry, Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie. “Within this limit is relief enough, Sweet bottom grass and high delightful plain, 236 Round rising hillocks, brakes obscure and rough, To shelter thee from tempest and from rain: Then be my deer, since I am such a park, 239 No dog shall rouse thee, though a thousand bark.” At this Adonis smiles as in disdain, That in each cheek appears a pretty dimple; Love made those hollows, if himself were slain, He might be buried in a tomb so simple; 244 Foreknowing well, if there he came to lie, Why there love liv’d, and there he could not die. These lovely caves, these round enchanting pits, Open’d their mouths to swallow Venus’ liking. 248 Being mad before, how doth she now for wits? Struck dead at first, what needs a second striking? Poor queen of love, in thine own law forlorn, To love a cheek that smiles at thee in scorn! 252 Now which way shall she turn? what shall she say? Her words are done, her woes the more increasing; The time is spent, her object will away, And from her twining arms doth urge releasing: 256 “Pity,” she cries; “some favour, some remorse!” Away he springs, and hasteth to his horse. But lo from forth a copse that neighbours by, A breeding jennet, lusty, young, and proud, 260 Adonis’ tramping courser doth espy, And forth she rushes, snorts and neighs aloud: The strong-neck’d steed, being tied unto a tree, Breaketh his rein, and to her straight goes he. 264 Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds, And now his woven girths he breaks asunder; The bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds, Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven’s thunder; The iron bit he crusheth ’tween his teeth, 269 Controlling what he was controlled with. His ears up-prick’d; his braided hanging mane Upon his compass’d crest now stand on end; 272 His nostrils drink the air, and forth again, As from a furnace, vapours doth he send: His eye, which scornfully glisters like fire, Shows his hot courage and his high desire. 276