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And at his look she flatly falleth down
For looks kill love, and love by looks reviveth; . 464
A smile recures the wounding of a frown;
But blessed bankrupt, that by love so thriveth!
The silly boy, believing she is dead
Claps her pale cheek, till clapping makes it red; 468

And all amaz’d brake off his late intent,
For sharply he did think to reprehend her,
Which cunning love did wittily prevent: . . . .
Fair fall the wit that can so well defend her! . . 472
For on the grass she lies as she were slain
Till his breath breatheth life in her again.

He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheeks,
He bends her fingers, holds her pulses hard, . . .476
He chafes her lips; a thousand ways he seeks
To mend the hurt that his unkindness marr’d:
He kisses her; and she, by her good will,
Will never rise, so he will kiss her still. . . 480

The night of sorrow now is turn’d to day:
Her two blue windows faintly she up-heaveth,
Like the fair sun, when in his fresh array
He cheers the morn, and all the world relieveth: . 484
And as the bright sun glorifies the sky,
So is her face illumin’d with her eye;

Whose beams upon his hairless face are fix’d,
As if from thence they borrow’d all their shine. . 488
Were never four such lamps together mix’d,
Had not his clouded with his brow’s repine;
But hers, which through the crystal tears gave light
Shone like the moon in water seen by night. . . 492

‘O! where am I?’ quoth she, ‘in earth or heaven,
Or in the ocean drench’d, or in the fire?
What hour is this? or morn or weary even?
Do I delight to die, or life desire? . . . . . 496
But now I liv’d, and life was death’s annoy;
But now I died, and death was lively joy.

‘O! thou didst kill me; kill me once again:
Thy eyes’ shrewd tutor, that hard heart of thine, . 500
Hath taught them scornful tricks, and such disdain,
That they have murder’d this poor heart of mine;
And these mine eyes, true leaders to their queen,
But for thy piteous lips no more had seen. . . .504

‘Long may they kiss each other for this cure!
O! never let their crimson liveries wear;
And as they last, their verdure still endure,
To drive infection from the dangerous year: . . . 508
That the star-gazers, having writ on death,
May say, the plague is banish’d by thy breath.

‘Pure lips, sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted,
What bargains may I make, still to be sealing? . . 512
To sell myself I can be well contented,
So thou wilt buy and pay and use good dealing;
Which purchase if thou make, for fear of slips
Set thy seal-manual on my wax-red lips. . . . .516

‘A thousand kisses buys my heart from me;
And pay them at thy leisure, one by one.
What is ten hundred touches unto thee?
Are they not quickly told and quickly gone? . . . 520
Say, for non-payment that the debt should double,
Is twenty hundred kisses such a trouble?’

‘Fair queen,’ quoth he, ‘if any love you owe me,
Measure my strangeness with my unripe years: . . .524
Before I know myself, seek not to know me;
No fisher but the ungrown fry forbears:
The mellow plum doth fall, the green sticks fast,
Or being early pluck’d is sour to taste. . . . 528