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# VENYS AND ADONIS. VWhen he did frowne,ô had the then gaue ouer, Such nectar from his lips the had not fuckt, Foule wordes, and frownes,must not repell a louer, VWhat though the rofe haue prickles, yet tis pluckt? VVere beautie vnder twentie locks kept faßt, Yet loue breaks through, & picks them all at laft. For pittie now the can no more detaine him, The poore foole praies her that he may depart, She is refolud no longer to restraine him, Bids him farewell, and looka well to her hart, The which by Cupids bow the doth protest, He carries thence incaged in his brest. Sweet boy the saies, this night ile waft in forrow, For my fick heart commands mine eyes to watch, Tell me loues maifter, shall we meete to morrow, Say, shall we, shall we, wilt thou make the match? He tell's her no, to morrow he intends, To hunt the boare with certaine of his friends. The boare (quoth the) whereat a fuddain pale, Like lawne being fpred vpon the blushing rofe, Vfurpes her chooke, the trembles at his tale, And on his neck her yoaking armes the throws. She fincketh downe, still hanging by his necke, He on her belly fall's, he on her backe. E II. 571—594
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