Page 2269 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

«It shall be sparing, and too full of riot,
Teaching decrepit age to tread the measures;
The staring ruffian shall it keep in quiet,
Pluck down the rich, enrich the poor with treasures; [1150]

It shall be raging mad, and silly mild,
Make the young old, the old become a child.

«It shall suspect where is no cause of fear,
It shall not fear where it should most mistrust;

It shall be merciful, and too severe, [1155]
And most deceiving when it seems most just;
Perverse it shall be, where it shows most toward;
Put fear to valour, courage to the coward.

«It shall be cause of war and dire events,

And set dissension ’twixt the son and sire; [1160]
Subject and servile to all discontents,
As dry combustious matter is to fire.
Sith in his prime death doth my love destroy,
They that love best, their loves shall not enjoy».

By this the boy that by her side lay kill’d [1165]
Was melted like a vapour from her sight,
And in his blood that on the ground lay spill’d,
A purple flower sprung up, checker’d with white,

Resembling well his pale cheeks and the blood
Which in round drops upon their whiteness stood. [1170]

She bows her head, the new-sprung flower to smell,
Comparing it to her Adonis’ breath,
And says within her bosom it shall dwell,

Since he himself is reft from her by death.
She crops the stalk, and in the breach appears [1175]
Green-dropping sap, which she compares to tears.

«Poor flower», quoth she, «this was thy father’s guise, −
Sweet issue of a more sweet-selling sire, −