Page 2234 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

And trembling in her passion, calls it balm,
Earth’s sovereign salve to do a goddess good:
Being so enrag’d, desire doth lend her force
Courageously to pluck him from his horse. [30]

Over one arm the lusty courser’s rein,

Under her other was the tender boy,
Who blush’d and pouted in a dull disdain,
With leaden appetite, unapt to toy:

She red and hot as coals of glowing fire, [35]
He red for shame, but frosty in desire.

The studded bridle on a ragged bough
Nimbly she fastens − O how quick is love! −
The steed is stalled up, and even now

To tie the rider she begins to prove: [40]
Backward she push’d him, as she would be thrust,
And govern’d him in strength, though not in lust.

So soon was she along as he was down,
Each leaning on their elbows and their hips;

Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he frown, [45]
And ’gins to chide, but soon she stops his lips,
And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken,
«If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open».

He burns with bashful shame, she with her tears

Doth quench the maiden burning of his cheeks; [50]
Then with her windy sighs and golden hairs
To fan and blow them dry again she seeks.
He saith she is immodest, blames her miss;

What follows more, she murders with a kiss.

Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast, [55]
Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh and bone,
Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste,
Till either gorge be stuff’d or prey be gone: