FROM off a hill whose concave womb re-worded A reverend man that graz'd his cattle nigh,
A plaintful story from a A sistering vale,

Sometime a blusterer, that the iruffle knew
My spirits t'attend this double voice accorded, Of court, of city, and had let go by
And down I laid to list the sad-tun'd tale;

The swistest hours, observed as they flew,
Ere long espy'd a fickle maid full pale,

Towards this afflicted fancy fastly drew; Tearing of papers, breaking rings 'u-twain, And, privileged by age, desires to know, Storming her world with sorrow's wind and rain. In brief, the grounds and motives of her woe. Upon her head a platted hive of straw,

So slides he down upon his grained k bat, Which fortified her visage from the sun,

And comely-distant sits be by her side;
Whereon the thought might think sometime it saw When he again desires her, being sat,
The carcase of a beauty spent and done :

Her grievance with his hearing to divide :
Time had not scythed all that youth begun, If that from him there may be aught applied,
Nor youth all quit; but, spite of heaven's fell rage, Which may her suffering ecstasy assuage,
Some beauty peep'd through lattice of sear'd age. ”T is promis'd in the charity of age.
Oft did she heave her napkin to lier Ceyne,

Father, she says, though in me you behold
Which on it had conceited characters,

The injury of many a blasting hour, Laundering the silken figures in the brine Let it not tell your judgment I am old; That season'd woe bad pelleted in tears,

Not

age, but sorrow, over me hath power: And often reading what contents it bears;

I might as yet have been a spreading flower, As often shrieking undistinguish'd woe

Freshi to myself, if I had self-applied In clamors of all size, both high and low.

Love to myself, and to no love beside. Sometimes her level'd eyes their carriage ride, But woe is me! too early I attended As they did battery to the spheres intend;

A youthful suit, it was to gain my grace ;
Sometime, diverted, their poor balls are tied 0! one by nature's outwards so commended,
To the orbed earth ; sometimes they do extend That maidens' eyes stuck over all his face:
Their view right on; anon their gazes lend

Love lack'd a dwelling, and made him her place;
To every place at once, and no where fix'd, And when in his fair parts she did abide,
The mind and sight distractedly commix’d. She was new lodg'd, and newly deified.
Her hair, nor loose, nor tied in formal plat,

His browny locks did hang in crooked curls,
Proclaim'd in her a careless band of pride ; And every light occasion of the wind
For some, untuck'd, descended her sheav'd hat, Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls :
Hanging her pale and pined cheek beside;

What's sweet to do, lo do will aptly find;
Some in her threaden fillet still did bide,

Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind,
And, true to bondage, would not break from thence, For on his visage was in little drawn,
Though slackly braided in loose negligence. Wbat largeness thinks in paradise was 'sawn.
A thousand favors from a 'maund she drew

Small show of man was yet upon his chin:
Of amber, crystal, and of bedded jet,

His phænix down began but to appear,
Which one by one she in a river threw,

Like unshorn velvet, on that teimless skin,
Upon whose weeping margent she was set; Whose bare out-brag'd the web it seem'd to wear;
Like usury, applying wet to wet,

Yet show'd his visage by that cost most dear,
Or monarchs' hunds, that let not bounty fall

And nice affections wavering stood in doubt
Where want cries “some," but where excess begs all. If best were as it was, or best without.
Of folded schedules had she many a one,

His qualities were beauteous as his form,
Which she perus’d, sigh’d, tore, and gave the flood; For maiden-tongu'd he was, and thereof free;
Crack'd many a ring of posied gold and bone, Yet, if men moy'd him, was he such a storm
Bidding them find their sepulchres in mud;

As oft 'twixt May and April is to see,
Found yet more letters sadly pen’d in blood, When winds breathe sweet, unruly though they be.
With 6sleided silk feat and affectedly

His rudeness so, with his authoriz'd youth,
Enswath'd, and seal'd to curious secrecy.

Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.
These often bath'd she in her lifluxive eyes, Well could he ride, and often men would say,
And often kiss'd, and often 'gan to lear;

“That horse his mettle from his rider takes : Cry'd, 0 false blood! thou register of lies,

Proud of subjection, noble by the sway, [makes !*
What unapproved witness dost thou bear!

What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop be
Ink would have seem'd more black and damned here. And controversy hence a question takes,
This said, in top of rage the lines she rents, Wbether the horse by him became his deed,
Big discontent so breaking their contents.

Or he his manage by the well-doing steed.
Sistering," i. e., neighboring.–6" A-twain," i. e., in

But quickly on this side the verdict went. twain ; asunder. -- "Eyne," i, e., eyns. —d "Laundering," His reul habitude gave life and grace i. e., wetting; washing. -- " Sheav'd hat," i, e., straw hnt.{"A maund," i. e., a basket.-6" Sleided," i. e., untwisted. i" Ruffle," i. e., commotion.-- ** Bat," i, e., club-San

b"Fluxive," i. e., flowing.

for soun.

To appertainings and to ornament,

All my offences that abroad you see, Accomplish'd in himself, not in lois case :

Are errors of the blood, none of the mind : All aids, themselves made fairer by their place, Love made them not: with bacture they may be, Came for additions, yet their purpos'd trim

Where neither party is nor true nor kind: Piec'd not his grace, but were all grac'd by him. They sought their shame that so their shame did find, Bo on the tip of his subduing tongue,

And so much less of shame in me remains, All kind of arguments and question deep,

By how much of me their reproach contains. All replication prompt, and reason strong,

Among the many that mine eyes have seen, For his advantage still did wake and sleep: Not one whose flame my heart so much as warmed, To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,

Or my affection put to the smallest teen, He had the dialect and different skill,

Or any of my leisures ever charmed: Catching all passions in his craft of will:

Harm have I done to them, but pe'er was harmed; That he did in the general bosom reign

Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free, Of young, of old; and sexes both enchanted,

And reign'd, commanding in his monarchy. To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain

Look here, what tuibutes wounded fancies sent me, In personal duty, following where he haunted : Of paled pearls, and rubies red as blood; Consents, bewitch’d, ere he desire have granted; Figuring that they their passions likewise lent me And dialogued for him what he would say,

Of grief and blushes, aptly understood
Ask'd their own wills, and made their wills obey. In bloodless white and the encrimson'd mood;

Effects of terror and dear modesty,
Many there were that did his picture get,
To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind ;

Encamp'd in hearts, but fighting outwardly.
Like fools that in th' imagination set

And lo! behold these talents of their hair, The goodly objects which abroad they find

With twisted metal amorously dimpleach'd, of lands and mansions, theirs in thought assign'd; I have receiv'd from many a several fair, And laboring in more pleasures to bestow them, (Their kind acceptance weepingly beseech'd) Than the true gouty landlord which doth * owe them. With the annexions of fair gems enrich'd,

And deep-brain'd sonnets, that did amplify
So many have, that never touch'd his hand,

Each stone's dear nature, worth, and quality.
Sweetly suppos'd them mistress of his heart.
My woeful self, that did in freedom stand,

The diamond; why, 't was beautiful and hard, And was my own fee-simple, (not in part)

Whereto his e invis'd properties did tend, What with his art in youth, and youth in art,

The deep-green emerald, in whose fresh regard Threw my affections in his charmed power,

Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend; Reserv'd the slalk, and gave him all my flower. The heaven-hued sapphire, and the opal blend Yet did I not, as some my equals did,

With objects manifold: each several stone, Demand of him, nor, being desir'd, yielded ;

With wit well blazon'd, smil'd, or made some moan. Finding myself in honor so forbid,

Lo! all these tropbieg of affections hot, With safest distance I mine honor shielded.

Of pensiv'd and subdued desires the tender, Experience for me many bulwarks builded

Nature hath charg'ild me that I hoard them not, Of proofs new-bleeding, which remain'd the foil But yield them up where I myself must render; of ihis false jewel, and his amorous spoil.

That is, to you, my origin and ender: But ah! who ever shunn'd by precedent

For these, of force, must your oblations be,

Since I their altar, you enpatron me.
The destin'd ill she must herself assny ?
Or forc'd examples, 'gainst her own content,

0! then, advance of yours that phraseless hand, To put the by-pass'd perils in her way?

Whose white weighis down the airy scale of praise ; Counsel may stop a while wbut will not stay ;

Take all these similes to your own command, For when we rage, advice is often seen

Hallow'd with sighs that burning lungs did raise ; By blunting us to make our wits more keen. What me, your minister, for you obeys, Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood,

Works under you; and to your audit comes That we must curb it upon others' proof,

Their distract parcels in combined sums.
To be forbid the sweets that seem so good,

Lo! this device was sent me from a nun,
For fear of harms that preach in our behoof. Or sister sanctified, of holiest note ;
O appetite, from judgment stand aloof!

Which late her noble suit in court did shuns
The one a palate bath that needs will laste,

Whose rarest 'bavings made the bblossoms dote : Though reason weep, and cry, “ It is thy last." For she was sought by spirits of richest coat, For further I could say, “ This man's untrue,"

But kept cold distince, and did thence remove, And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling;

To spend her living in eternal love.
Heard where his plants in others' orchards grew, But O, my sweet! what labor is't to leave
Saw how deceits were gilled in bis smiling;

The thing we have not, mastering what not strives ? Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling ;

Paling the place which did no form receive; Thought characters, and words, merely but art, Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves ? And bastards of his foul adulterate heart.

She that her fame so to herself contrives,

The scars of battle scapeth by the flight, And long upon these terms I held my city,

And makes her absence valiant, not her might
Till thus he 'gan besiege me: "Gentle maid,
Huve of my suffering youth some feeling pity, O, pardon me, in that my boast is true !
And be not of my holy vows afraid :

The accident which brought me to her eye,
That's to you sworn, lo none was ever said; Upon the moment did her force subdue,
For feasts of love I have been call'd unto,
Till now did ne'er in vile, nor never vow.

And now she would the caged cloister fly;

But with the inundation of the eyes Religious love put out religion's eye:

What rocky heart to water will not wear? Not to be tempted, would she be immur'd,

What breast so cold that is not warmed here? And now, to tempt all, liberty procur'd.

O cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath,

Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath!
How mighty then you are, O hear me tell !
The broken bosoms that to me belong,

For lo! his passion, but an art of craft,
Have emptied all their fountains in my well,

Even there resolv'd my reason into tenrs; And mine I pour your ocean all among:

There my white stole of chastity I a dafrd;
I strong o'er them, and you o'er me being strong, Shook off my sober guards, and civil fears :
Must for your victory us all congest,

Appear to him, as he to me appears,
As compound love to physic your cold breast. All melting ; though our drops this difference bore,
My parts had power to charm a sacred sun,

His poison'd me, and mine did him restore.
Who, disciplin'd, I dieted in grace,

In him a plenitude of subtle matter,
Believ'd her eyes, when they t' assuil begun, Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives,
All vows and consecrations giving place.

of burning blushes, or of weeping water, O most potential love! vow, bond, nor space,

Or swooning paleness; and he takes and leaves,
In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine, In either's aptness, as it best deceives
For thou art all, and all things else are thine.

To blush at speeches rank, to weep at woes,
When thou impressest, what are precepts worth

Or to turn white, and swoon at tragic shows: Of stale example? When thou wilt inflame,

That not a heart which in his level came,
How coldly those impediments stand forth

Could scape the hail of his all-hurting aim,
Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame? Showing fair nature is both kind and tame,
Love's arms are peace, 'guinst rule, 'gainst sense, And veil'd in them, did win whom he would main:
'gainst shame;

Against the thing he sought he would exclaim;
And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears, When he most burn'd in heart-wish'd luxury,
The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears.

He preach'd pure maid, and prais'd cold chastity. Now, all these hearts that do on mine depend, Thus, merely with the garment of a grace Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine ;

The naked and concealed fiend he cover'd; And supplicant their sighis to you extend,

That th' unexperienc'd gave the tempter place,
To leave the battery that you make 'gainst mine, Which, like a cherubin, above them horer'd.
Lending soft audience to my sweet design,

Who, young and simple, would not be so lorer'd ?
And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath, Ah me! I fell; and yet do question make,
That shall prefer and undertake my troth.”

What I should do again for such a sake.
This said, his watery eyes he did dismount, O, that infected moisture of his eye!
Whose sights till then were level'd on my face ; O, that false fire, which in his check so glowed !
Ench cheek a river running from a fount

0, that forc'd thunder from his heart did fly! With brinish current downward flow'd

арасе. . O, that sad breath his spungy lungs bestowed! 0, how the channel to the stream gave grace! O, all that borrow'd motion, seeming owed, Who, glaz'd with crystal, gate the glowing roses Would yet again betray the fore-betray'd, That flame through water which their huo incloses. And new pervert a reconciled maid! O father! what a hell of witchcraft lies

. “Daftd," i. e., put off -- " To cautels," i. e., to cuining In the small orb of one purticular tear;

"Luxury," i. e., licentiousness.

(". The Passionate Pilgrime By W. Shakeepeare. At London In the following pages we have reprinted "The Passionnte

Printed for W. laggard, and are to be sold by W. Lenke, Pilgrim," 1599, as it came from the press of W. Jaggard, at the Greyhound in Paules Churchyard. 1599.” 16mo. with the exception only of the orthography. Malone omit30 leaves,

ted several portions of it; some because they were subThe title-page first given to the edition of 1612 ran thus : stantially repetitions of poems contained elsewhere, and

“ The Passionate Pilgrime. Or Certaine Amorous Son others because they appeared to have been improperly as. nets, betweene Venus and Adonis, newly corrected and signed to Shakespeare: one piece, the last in the tract, is augmented. By W. Shakespere. The third Edition. not inserted at all in Boswell's edition, although Malone reWherevnto is newly added two Loue-Epistles, the first printed it in 1780, and no reason is assigned for rejecting it. from Paris to Hellen, and Hellen's answere backe agnine We have given the whole, and in our notes we have stated to Paria. Printed by W. Iaggard. 1612." The title-page the particular circumstances belonging to such pieces as substituted for the above differs in no other respect but in there is reason to believe did not come from the pen of our the omission of “By W. Shakespere.”

great dramatist.

I.

When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor'd youth
Unskilful in the world's false forgeries.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although I know my years be past the best,
I smiling credit her false speaking longue,
Out-facing faults in love with love's ill rest.
But wherefore snys my love that she is young ?
And wherefore say not I that I am old' ?
0! love's best habit is a soothing tongue,
And age, in love, loves not to have years told.

Therefore I'll lie with love, and love with me,
Since that our faults in love thus smother'd be.

To win me soon to hell, my female evil
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt a saint to be a devil,
Wooing his purity with her fair pride:
And whether that my angel be turn d fiend,
Suspect I may, but not directly tell ;
For being both to me, both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another's hell.
The truth I sball not know, but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

III.

11.b

Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,
Gainst whom the world could not hold argument,
Persuade my heart to this false perjury?
Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment.
A woman I forswore; but I will prove,
Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee:
My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love ;
Thy grace being gain'd cures all disgrace in me.
My vow was breath, and breath a vapor is :
Then thou fair sun, that on this earth dost shine,

Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still :
The better angel is a man, right fair,
The worser spirit a woman, color'd ill.

• This sonnet is substantially the same as Sonnet cxxxviii. - This sonnet is also the same as Sonnet cxliv., but with some verbal variations.

IV.

on

Exhale this vapor now; in thee it is:

Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings, If broken, then it is no fault of mine.

Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were If by me broke, what fool is not so wise

jestings. To break an oath, to win a paradise ?

She burn'd with love, as straw with fire fiameth;
She burn'd out love, as soon as straw out burneth:

She fram'd the love, and yet she foii'd the framing; Sweet Cytherea, sitting by a brook,

She bade love last, and yet she fell a turning. With young Adonis, lovely, fresh and green,

Was this a lover, or a lecher whether? Did court the lad with many a lovely look,

Bad in the best, though excellent in neither. Such looks as none could look but beauty's queen. She told bim stories to delight his ear;

viii.d She show'd him favors to allure his eye;

If music and sweet poetry agree, To win his heart, she touch'd him bere and there :

As they must needs, the sister and the brother, Touches so soft still conquer chastity.

Then, must the love be great twixt thee and me But whether unripe years did want conceit,

Because thou lov'st the one, and I the other. Or he refus'd to take her a figur'd proffer,

Douland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch The tender nibbler would not touch the bait,

Upon the lute doth ravish human sense: But smile and jest at every gentle offer:

Spenser to me, whose deep conceit is such, Then, fell

back, fair queen, and toward: As passing all conceit needs no defence. He rose and ran away; ah, fool too froward !

Thou lov'st to hear the sweet melodious sound
That Phæbus' lute (the queen of music) makes;

And I in deep delight am chiefly drown'd
If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love ? e Whenas himself to singing he betakes.
0! never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow'd: One god is god of both, as poets feign,
Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll constant prove; One knight loves both, and both in thee remin.
Those thoughts, lo me like oaks, to thee like osiers

bow'd. Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes, Fair was the morn, when the fair Where all those pleasures live, that art can compre

of love, hend.

Paler for sorrow than her milk-white dove, If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice; For Adon's sake, a youngster proud and wild; Well learned is that tongue that well can thee com- Her stand she takes upon a steep up hill: mend;

Anon Adonis comes with horn and hounds; All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder, She silly queen, with more than love's good will, Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire: Forbade the boy he should not pass those grounds. Thine eye Jove's lightning seems, thy voice his dread-Once, (quoth she) did I see a fair sweet youth ful thunder,

Here in these brakes deep-wounded with a boar, Which (not to anger bent) is music and sweet fire.

Deep in the thigh, a spectacle of ruth! Celestial as thou art, O! do not love that wrong,

See, in my thigh, (quoth she,) here was the sore. To sing the heavens' pruise with such an earthly She showed hers; he saw more wounds than one, tongue.

And blushing fled, and left her all alone.

v. b

IX.

queen

VI.

Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn,
And scarce the herd gone to the hedge for shade,
When Cytherea, all in love forlorn,
A longing tarriance for Adonis made,
Under an osier growing by a brook,
A brook, where Adon us'd to cool his spleen:
Hot was the day; she hotter that did look
For his approach, that often there had been.
Anon he comes, and throws his mantle by,
And stood stark naked on the brook's green brim;
The sun look'd on the world with glorious eye,
Yet not so wistly as this queen on him:

He, spying her, bounc'd in, whereas he stood:
O Jove! quoth she, why was not I a flood ?

Swect rose, fair flower, untimely pluck’d, soon faded,
Pluck'd in the bud, and faded in the spring!
Bright orient pearl, alack! too timely shaded,
Fair creature, kill'd too soon by death's sharp sting!

Like a green plum that hangs upon a tree,

And falls, (through wind) before the fall should be.
I weep for thee, and yet no cause I bare;
For why? thou left'si me nothing in thy will.
And yet thou left'st me more than I did crave;
For why? I craved nothing of thee still:

O yes, (dear friend,) I pardon crave of thee:
Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me.

XI."

VII.

Venus with Adonis sitting by ber, Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle,

Under a myrtle shade, began to woo him: Mild as a dore, but neither true nor trusty ;

She told the youngling how god Mars did try her, Brighter than glass, and yet, as glass is, brittle, And as he fell to her, she fell to him. Softer than wax, and yet as iron rusty :

Even thus, (quoth she) the warlike god embrac'd me; A lily pale, with damask dye to grace her, And then she 6 clipp'd Adonis in her arms;

None fairer, nor none fulser to deface her. Even thus, (quotn si () the warlike god unluc'd me, Her lips to mine how often bath she joined,

As if the boy should use like loving charms :
Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing!
How many tales to please me hath she coined,

This poem was published in 1598, in Richard Barnes

" Encomion of Lady Pecunia." There is little donbt that Dreading my love, the loss whereof still fearing!