- description
- # II. 859—882
## Overview
This section, titled "II. 859—882," is a segment of a larger work, specifically a chapter titled "[VENVS AND ADONIS.](arke:01KG6S4EKY2NN9C1PGK59TDRWY)". It contains poetic text and is part of a collection titled "[PDF Workflow Main Test 2026-01-30T00:26:53](arke:01KG6NWQ2H2K4PGG7H4ZHYCZ3Y)". The section spans lines 2669 to 2703 of the source file "[pdf-01KG6Q7Q25RHMFT3SJXPV18VFF.txt](arke:01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA)".
## Context
This section is a component of the chapter "[VENVS AND ADONIS.](arke:01KG6S4EKY2NN9C1PGK59TDRWY)", which itself is part of a larger collection. The text was extracted from the file "[pdf-01KG6Q7Q25RHMFT3SJXPV18VFF.txt](arke:01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA)". It follows the section "[II. 835—858](arke:01KG6S5KEQ2DYZHSF4RNFQZKH8)" and precedes the section "[II. 883—906](arke:01KG6S5KEV1VJQG7QVJGFHYN08)".
## Contents
The content of this section consists of a poem, likely a continuation of the narrative from the preceding sections. The text describes Venus's emotional state as she hears the sounds of the hunt, her fear, and her subsequent actions. It details her frantic movements and her internal turmoil as she tries to locate Adonis. The poem uses vivid imagery, such as Venus's hair being caught by bushes and her comparison to a "milch Doe" rushing to feed her fawn, to convey her distress and urgency.
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- 2026-01-30T06:25:42.990Z
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- description_title
- II. 859—882
- end_line
- 2703
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- 2026-01-30T06:24:08.804Z
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- start_line
- 2669
- text
- 11. 859—882
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# VENVS AND ADONIS.
For now she knows it is no gentle chase,
But the blunt boare, rough beare, or lyon proud,
Because the crie remaineth in one place,
V V here searefully the dogs exclaim aloud,
Finding their enemie to be so curst,
They all straine curtsie who shall cope him first.
This dismall crie rings sadly in her eare,
Through which it enters to surprise her hart,
V V ho ouercome by doubt, and bloodless seare,
V V ith cold-pale weakenesse, nums ech seeling part,
Like soldiers when their captain once doth yeeld,
They basely flie, and dare not stay the field.
Thus stands she in a trembling extasie,
Till cheering vp her senses all dismayd,
She tels them tis a caullesse fantasie,
And childith error that they are affrayd,
Bids the leaue quaking, bids them seare no more,
And with that word, she spide the hunted boare.
V V hose frothie mouth bepainted all with red,
Like milke, & blood, being mingled both togither,
A second seare through all her sinewes spred,
V V hich madly hurries her, she knows not whither,
This way she runs, and now she will no further,
But backe retires, to rate the boare for mutther.
A
- title
- II. 859—882