- description
- # II. 571—594
## Overview
This section, titled "II. 571—594," is a segment of a larger work, likely a poem or literary text. It spans from line 2250 to 2284 within its source file.
## Context
This section is part of the chapter "[VENVS AND ADONIS.](arke:01KG6S4EKY2NN9C1PGK59TDRWY)" and was extracted from the file "[pdf-01KG6Q7Q25RHMFT3SJXPV18VFF.txt](arke:01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA)". It is also associated with the collection "[PDF Workflow Main Test 2026-01-30T00:26:53](arke:01KG6NWQ2H2K4PGG7H4ZHYCZ3Y)". This section follows "[II. 547—570](arke:01KG6S5JX3SENX9QZA707X9TBC)" and precedes "[11. 595-618](arke:01KG6S5JX58FJX4BMK97MEPMZZ)".
## Contents
The text within this section is a poetic passage that appears to be a dialogue or narrative concerning Venus and Adonis. It describes Venus's attempts to persuade Adonis, her pleas, and his resistance. The passage touches upon themes of love, desire, and the consequences of pursuit, referencing imagery such as painted grapes and a boar hunt. The language is archaic, consistent with early modern English poetry.
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- 2026-01-30T06:25:41.600Z
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- description_title
- II. 571—594
- end_line
- 2284
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T06:24:08.803Z
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- start_line
- 2250
- text
- II. 571—594
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# VENVS AND ADONIS.
Now is she in the verie lists of loue,
Her champion mounted for the hot incounter,
All is imaginarie she doth proue,
He will not mannage her, although he mount her,
That worfe then Tantalus is her annoy,
To clip Elizium, and to lacke her ioy.
Euen fo poore birds deceiud with painted grapes,
Do furfet by the eye, and pine the maw:
Euen fo she languisheth in her mishaps,
As thofe poore birds that helplesf berries saw,
The warme effects which she in him finds misling,
She fckes to kindle with continuall kisfing.
But all in vaine, good Queene, it will not bee,
She hath affai'd as much as may be proud,
Her pleading hath deferud a greater fee,
She's loue; the loues, and yet she is not loud,
Fie, fie, he saies, you crush me, let me go,
You haue no reason to withhold me fo.
Thou hadst bin gone (quoth she) sweet boy ere this,
But that thou toldst me, thou woldst hunt the boare,
Oh be aduisd, thou know'st not what it is,
VWith iauelings point a churlish swine to goare,
VWhofe tushes neuer sheathd, he whetteth still,
Like to a mortall butcher bent to kill.
On
- title
- II. 571—594