Page 2263 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

Here overcome, as one full of despair, [955]
She vail’d her eyelids, who like sluices stopp’d
The crystal tide that from her two cheeks fair
In the sweet channel of her bosom dropp’d;

But through the flood-gates breaks the silver rain,
And with his strong course opens them again. [960]

O how her eyes and tears did lend and borrow!
Her eye seen in the tears, tears in her eye:

Both crystals where they view’d each other’s sorrow,
Sorrow that friendly sighs sought still to dry;
But like a stormy day, now wind, now rain, [965]
Sighs dry her cheeks, tears make them wet again.

Variable passions throng her constant woe,

As striving who should best become her grief;
All entertain’d, each passion labours so,
That every present sorrow seemeth chief, [970]
But none is best: then join they all together,
Like many clouds consulting for foul weather.

By this, far off she hears some huntsman holla:
A nurse’s song ne’er pleas’d her babe so well.
The dire imagination she did follow [975]
This sound of hope doth labour to expel;

For now reviving joy bids her rejoice,
And flatters her it is Adonis’ voice.

Whereat her tears began to turn their tide,
Being prison’d in her eye like pearls in glass; [980]
Yet sometimes falls an orient drop beside,

Which her cheek melts, as scorning it should pass
To wash the foul face of the sluttish ground,
Who is but drunken when she seemeth drown’d.

O hard-believing love, how strange it seems [985]
Not to believe, and yet too credulous!