XI

Venus, with young Adonis sitting by her

Under a myrtle shade, began to woo him:
She told the youngling how god Mars did try her,
And as he fell to her, so fell she to him.

"Even thus," quoth she, "the warlike god embraced me,'
And then she clipp'd Adonis in her arms;
"Even thus," quoth she, "the warlike god unlaced me,"
As if the boy should use like loving charms;
"Even thus," quoth she, "he seized on my lips,"
And with her lips on his did act the seizure:
And as she fetched breath, away he skips,

And would not take her meaning nor her pleasure.

XI This sonnet repeats with very slight change in ten of its lines Sonnet iii of B. Griffin's sonnet-sequence entitled Fidessa, 1596. The four lines, 9-12 ("Even thus," quoth she, "he seized. . . her pleasure), are completely altered. In Venus and Adonis Shakespeare makes Venus refer to her wooing by "the stern and direful god of war" (lines 98 seq.). Griffin, doubtless, developed Shakespeare's hint and is probably responsible for both the extant versions of this sonnet. 5 warlike] Griffin gives wanton.

6 clipp'd] Griffin gives clasp'd.

9-12 “Even thus," quoth she, “he seized... her pleasure] In Griffin's Fidessa these lines run thus:

"But he a wayward boy refusde her offer,

And ran away, the beautious Queene neglecting:

Shewing both folly to abuse her proffer,

And all his sex of cowardise detecting,"

12 her meaning] Cf. Mids. N. Dr., II, ii, 46: "Love takes the meaning

in love's conference."

10

Ah, that I had my lady at this bay,
To kiss and clip me till I run away!

XII

Crabbed age and youth cannot live together:
Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare.
Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short;
Youth is nimble, age is lame;

Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold;
Youth is wild, and age is tame.

Age, I do abhor thee; youth, I do adore thee;
O, my love, my love is young!

13 at this bay] at such an extremity, within my power Cf. Tit. Andr., IV, ii, 41-42: "I would we had a thousand Roman dames At such a bay." The expression is from the metaphor of a hunted dog, baying or barking at his pursuers.

XII This piece appears with a worthless continuation of some ninety lines in Deloney's poetical miscellany called Garland of good will, which was first published in 1595, though the earliest extant edition is dated 1604. "Crabbed age and youth cannot live together" is noticed as a popular song by the Elizabethan dramatists. Cf. Fletcher's Woman's Prize, IV, i, 37: "Hast thou forgot the ballad Crabbed age?"; so William Rowley's Match at Midnight, 1633, Act V, Sc. i, and John Ford's Fancies, Act IV, Sc. i. Percy prints the piece as given in the present text in his Reliques. The early music is lost. Stevens, Bishop, and Horn have composed modern settings.

...

4 Youth like summer brave . . . bare] This line is omitted by Deloney. 6 nimble] Deloney reads wild, as in line 8.

10 my love is young] Deloney reads "my lord is young.”

10

Age, I do defy thee: O, sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long.

XIII

Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good;
A shining gloss that vadeth suddenly;
A flower that dies when first it 'gins to bud;
A brittle glass that 's broken presently:

A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,
Lost, vaded, broken, dead within an hour.

And as goods lost are seld or never found,
As vaded gloss no rubbing will refresh,
As flowers dead lie wither'd on the ground,
As broken glass no cement can redress,

So beauty blemish'd once 's for ever lost,
In spite of physic, painting, pain and cost.

XIII Numerous Elizabethan poems in the six-line stanza are in sentiment and phrase hardly distinguishable from this piece; but none seems quite identical. Cf. Greene's Alcida, 1588: "Beauty is vain, accounted but a flower, Whose painted hue fades with the summer sun" (Greene's Works, ed. Grosart, ix, 87). A somewhat improved version of the present piece appears in the Gentleman's Magazine, 1750, xx, p. 521, under the title "Beauty's value by Wm. Shakespeare: from a corrected MS." This was again printed in the same periodical in 1760, xxx, p. 39. The emendations seem due to eighteenth century ingenuity, and have no historic interest. 2-6-8 vadeth ... vaded. . . vaded] See note on X, 1-2, supra.

XIV

share:

Good night, good rest. Ah, neither be my
She bade good night that kept my rest away;
And daff'd me to a cabin hang'd with care,
To descant on the doubts of my decay.

"Farewell," quoth she, "and come again to

morrow:"

Fare well I could not, for I supp'd with sorrow.

Yet at my parting sweetly did she smile,
In scorn or friendship, nill I construe whether:
'T may be, she joy'd to jest at my exile,
'T may be, again to make me wander thither:
"Wander," a word for shadows like myself,
As take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf.

XV

Lord, how mine eyes throw gazes to the east!
My heart doth charge the watch; the morning rise

XIV In the 1640 edition of Shakespeare's Poems this piece is printed continuously with the one succeeding it (No. XV), and the two are given the single title "Loath to depart." The metre and meaning of the two make Jaggard's bifurcation unnecessary. They together form a lover's meditation at night and dawn.

3 daff'd me] dismissed me, sent me off.

8 nill I] I will not. Cf. T. of Shrew, II, i, 263: "will you nill you." XV Though division has been adopted by most modern editors, the three stanzas of No. XV seem to belong to No. XIV. (See note, supra.) The two numbers form together a single piece of five stanzas.

2 doth charge the watch] impatiently challenges the night-watchman to announce daybreak.

10

Doth cite each moving sense from idle rest.
Not daring trust the office of mine eyes,

While Philomela sits and sings, I sit and mark,
And wish her lays were tuned like the lark;

For she doth welcome daylight with her ditty,
And drives away dark dreaming night:

The night so pack'd, I post unto my pretty;
Heart hath his hope and eyes their wished sight;
Sorrow changed to solace and solace mix'd with

sorrow;

For why, she sigh'd, and bade me come to-morrow.

Were I with her, the night would post too soon;
But now are minutes added to the hours;
To spite me now, each minute seems a moon;
Yet not for me, shine sun to succour flowers!

Pack night, peep day; good day, of night now
borrow:

Short, night, to-night, and length thyself to-morrow.

[XVI]

It was a lording's daughter, the fairest one of three,
That liked of her master as well as well might be,

6-7 the lark... with her ditty] Cf. Rom. and Jul., III, v, 6: "It was the lark, the herald of the morn."

9 pack'd] sent packing. Cf. line 17, infra.

15 a moon] Thus Malone. The old editions give an houre, which does not rhyme.

[XVI] In the original edition, this poem, which is not met with anywhere else but may be by Deloney (see No. XII, supra), is preceded by a new

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