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A mischief worse than civil home-bred strife, 764

Or theirs whose desperate hands themselves do slay,

Or butcher-sire that reeves his son of life.

Foul-cankering rust the hidden treasure frets,

But gold that's put to use more gold begets.'768

'Nay then,' quoth Adon, 'you will fall again

Into your idle over-handled theme;

The kiss I gave you is bestow'd in vain,

And all in vain you strive against the stream; 772

For by this black-fac'd night, desire's foul nurse,

Your treatise makes me like you worse and worse.

'If love have lent you twenty thousand tongues,

And every tongue more moving than your own, 776

Bewitching like the wanton mermaid's songs,

Yet from mine ear the tempting tune is blown;

For know, my heart stands armed in mine ear,

And will not let a false sound enter there; 780

'Lest the deceiving harmony should run

Into the quiet closure of my breast;

And then my little heart were quite undone,

In his bedchamber to be barr'd of rest. 784

No, lady, no; my heart longs not to groan,

But soundly sleeps, while now it sleeps alone.

'What have you urg'd that I cannot reprove?

The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger; 790

I hate not love, but your device in love

That lends embracements unto every stranger.

You do it for increase: O strange excuse!

When reason is the bawd to lust's abuse.792

'Call it not, love, for Love to heaven is fled,

Since sweating Lust on earth usurp'd his name;

Under whose simple semblance he hath fed

Upon fresh beauty, blotting it with blame;796

Which the hot tyrant stains and soon bereaves,

As caterpillars do the tender leaves.

'Love comforteth like sunshine after rain,

But Lust's effect is tempest after sun; 800

Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain,

Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done.

Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies;

Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies. 804

'More I could tell, but more I dare not say;

The text is old, the orator too green.

Therefore, in sadness, now I will away;

My face is full of shame, my heart of teen: 808

Mine ears, that to your wanton talk attended

Do burn themselves for having so offended.'

With this he breaketh from the sweet embrace 811

Of those fair arms which bound him to her breast,

And homeward through the dark laund runs apace;

Leaves Love upon her back deeply distress'd.

Look, how a bright star shooteth from the sky

So glides he in the night from Venus' eye; 816

Which after him she darts, as one on shore

Gazing upon a late-embarked friend,

Till the wild waves will have him seen no more,

Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend: 820

So did the merciless and pitchy night

Fold in the object that did feed her sight.

Whereat amaz'd, as one that unaware

Hath dropp'd a precious jewel in the flood, 824

Or 'stonish'd as night-wanderers often are,

Their light blown out in some mistrustful wood;

Even so confounded in the dark she lay,

Having lost the fair discovery of her way. 828

And now she beats her heart, whereat it groans,

That all the neighbour caves, as seeming troubled,

Make verbal repetition of her moans;

Passion on passion deeply is redoubled: 832

'Ay me!' she cries, and twenty times, 'Woe, woe!'

And twenty echoes twenty times cry so.

She marking them, begins a wailing note,

And sings extemporally a woeful ditty; 836

How love makes young men thrall and old men dote;

How love is wise in folly foolish-witty:

Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe,

And still the choir of echoes answer so.840

Her song was tedious, and outwore the night,

For lovers' hours are long, though seeming short:

If pleas'd themselves, others, they think, delight

In such like circumstance, with such like sport:844

Their copious stories, oftentimes begun,

End without audience, and are never done.

For who hath she to spend the night withal,

But idle sounds resembling parasites; 848

Like shrill-tongu'd tapsters answering every call,

Soothing the humour of fantastic wits?

She says, ''Tis so:' they answer all, ''Tis so;'