- description
- # II. 67—90
## Overview
This is a section extracted from a text file, representing lines 67-90 of the poem *Venus and Adonis*. It is labeled "II. 67—90" and was extracted on January 30, 2026.
## Context
This section is part of the chapter "[VENVS AND ADONIS.](arke:01KG6S4EKY2NN9C1PGK59TDRWY)" within a larger poetry collection. The source text file, "[pdf-01KG6Q7Q25RHMFT3SJXPV18VFF.txt](arke:01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA)," was assembled from multiple PDF pages and processed using structure-extraction-lambda. The section is located between the sections "[II. 43—66](arke:01KG6S5HRDVCW5V8GMMQVAXZ66)" and "[II. 91—114](arke:01KG6S5HRFK9AXCSZND3TDG1GV)." The extraction and structuring process was overseen by user "Structure Extraction" ([01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H](arke:01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H)). The file and its sections are part of the "[PDF Workflow Main Test 2026-01-30T00:26:53](arke:01KG6NWQ2H2K4PGG7H4ZHYCZ3Y)" collection.
## Contents
This section contains lines of verse from *Venus and Adonis*, where Venus attempts to seduce Adonis by recounting her past conquest of Mars, the god of war. She describes how Mars laid down his weapons and learned to dance and jest for her sake, emphasizing her power over him. Venus uses this story to persuade Adonis to yield to her advances, arguing that if she could conquer the god of war, she can certainly master Adonis. The text includes a reference to page 94 of the original document.
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- 2026-01-30T06:25:34.487Z
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- description_title
- II. 67—90
- end_line
- 1559
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T06:24:08.803Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 1525
- text
- II. 67—90
<!-- [Page 94](arke:01KG6QAN3KW1RTKTRY668W7AJT) -->
# VENVS AND ADONIS.
Neuer did passenger in sommers heat,
More thirst for drinke, then she for this good turne,
Her helpe she sees, but helpe she cannot get,
She bathes in water, yet her fire must burne:
Oh pitie gan she crie, flint-hearted boy,
Tis but a kisse I begge, why art thou coy?
I haue bene wooed as I intreat thee now,
Euen by the sterne, and direfull god of warre,
VVhose sinowie necke in battell nere did bow,
VVho conquers where he comes in euerie iarre,
Yet hath he bene my captue, and my flaue,
And begd for that which thou vnaskt shalt haue.
Ouer my Altars hath he hong his launce,
His battred shield, his vncontrolled crest,
And for my sake hath learnd to sport, and daunce,
To toy, to wanton, dallie, smile, and iest,
Scorning his churlish drumme, and ensigne red,
Making my armes his field, his tent my bed.
Thus he that ouer-ruld, I ouer-swayed,
Leading him prisoner in a red rose chaine,
Strong-temperd steele his stronger strength obayed.
Yet was he seruile to my coy disdaine,
Oh be not proud, nor brag not of thy might,
For maistring her that soyld the god of fight.
B ii
- title
- II. 67—90