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,
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:
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,
Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh, and bone,
Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste,
Till either gorge be stuffed, or prey be gone;

Even so she kissed his brow, his cheek, his chin,
And where she ends she doth anew begin.

Forced to content, but never to obey,
Panting he lies, and breatheth in her face;

I'Miss, amiss, fault. So in Sonnet CLI.:

"Love is too young to know what conscience is;
Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,

Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove."

2 Tires, tears, preys. The image is to be found without var ation in Henry VI. Part III. Act 1. Sc. 1.:

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Revenged may she be on that hateful duke;
Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire,
Will cost my crown, and, like an empty eagle,
Tire on the flesh of me and of my son."

9 Content, acquiescence.

She feedeth on the steam, as on a prey,
And calls it heavenly moisture, air of grace,
Wishing her cheeks were gardens full of flowers,
So they were dewed with such distilling showers.

Look how a bird lies tangled in a net ;

So fastened in her arms Adonis lies;

Pure shame and awed resistance made him fret,
Which bred more beauty in his angry eyes:
Rain added to a river that is rank,1
Perforce will force it overflow the bank.

Still she entreats, and prettily entreats,
For to a pretty ear she tunes her tale;
Still is he sullen, still he lowers and frets,
"Twixt crimson shame, and anger ashy pale;

Being red, she loves him best; and being white,
Her best is bettered with a more delight.

Look how he can, she cannot choose but love;
And by her fair immortal hand she swears
From his soft bosom never to remove,

Till he take truce with her contending tears,

Which long have rained, making her cheeks all

wet;

And one sweet kiss shall pay this countless debt.

Upon this promise did he raise his chin,

Like a di-dapper peering through a wave,

Rank, full. Rank is often used to express excess or violence generally; and rankness is applied to a flood, in King John, Act v Sc. IV. :

"And like a bated and retired flood,

Leaving our rankness and irregular course."

2 Di dapper. This is generally printed dive-dapper, without any

Who, being looked on, ducks as quickly in;
So offers he to give what she did crave;

But when her lips were ready for his pay,
He winks, and turns his lips another way.

Never did passenger in summer's heat
More thirst for drink, than she for this good turn:
Her help she sees, but help she cannot get;
She bathes in water, yet her fire must burn;
"O, pity," 'gan she cry, "flint-hearted boy!
"Tis but a kiss I beg; why art thou coy?

"I have been wooed, as I entreat thee now,
Even by the stern and direful god of war,
Whose sinewy neck in battle ne'er did bow,
Who conquers where he comes, in every jar;
Yet hath he been my captive and my slave,
And begged for that which thou unasked shalt have.

"Over my altars hath he hung his lance,

His battered shield, his uncontrolled crest,
And for my sake hath learned to sport and dance,
To toy, to wanton, dally, smile, and jest ;

Scorning his churlish drum, and ensign red,
Making my arms his field, his tent my bed.

"Thus he that overruled I overswayed, Leading him prisoner in a red-rose chain:

authority. One of the familiar names of the dab-chick is di-dapper; and this was the old poetical name. Beaumont and Fletcher, in "The Woman Hater," have a comparison of the mutability of fortune with this nimble water-bird : "The misery of man may fitly be compared to a di-dapper, who, when she is under water past our sight, and indeed can seem no more to us, rises again, shakes but herself, and is the same she was

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Strong-tempered steel his stronger strength obeyed,
Yet was he servile to my coy disdain.

O, be not proud, nor brag not of thy might,
For mastering her that foiled the god of fight!

"Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine,
(Though mine be not so fair, yet are they red,)
The kiss shall be thine own as well as mine:-
What seest thou in the ground? hold up thy
head;

Look in mine eyeballs, there thy beauty lies:
Then why not lips on lips, since eyes in eyes?

"Art thou ashamed to kiss? then wink again,
And I will wink, so shall the day seem night:
Love keeps his revels where there are but twain,
Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight:

These blue-veined violets whereon we lean
Never can blab, nor know not what we mean.

"The tender spring upon thy tempting lip

Shows thee unripe; yet mayst thou well be tasted; Make use of time, let not advantage slip;

Beauty within itself should not be wasted:

Fair flowers that are not gathered in their prime
Rot and consume themselves in little time.

"Were I hard-favored, foul, or wrinkled-old,
Ill-nurtured, crooked, churlish, harsh in voice,
O'er-worn, despised, rheumatic, and cold,
Thick-sighted, barren, lean, and lacking juice,
Then mightst thou pause, for then I were not for

thee;

But having no defects, why dost abhoi me

“Thou canst not see one wrinkle in my brow; Mine eyes are gray,' and bright, and quick in turn

ing;

My beauty as the spring doth yearly grow,

My flesh is soft and plump, my marrow burning;
My smooth moist hand, were it with thy hand felt,
Would in thy palm dissolve, or seem to melt.

"Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear,
Or, like a fairy, trip upon the green,
Or, like a nymph, with long dishevelled hair,
Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen:
Love is a spirit all compact of fire,

Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire.

"Witness this primrose bank whereon I lie;

These forceless flowers like sturdy trees support me,
Two strengthless doves will draw me through the sky,
From morn to night, even where I list to sport me :
Is love so light, sweet boy, and may it be
That thou shouldst think it heavy unto thee?

Is thine own heart to thine own face affected?
Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left?
Then woo thyself, be of thyself rejected,
Steal thine own freedom, and complain on theft.
Narcissus so himself himself forsook,

And died to kiss his shadow in the brook.

"Torches are made to light, jewels to wear, Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use,

1 Gray is said to be here used as blue. We have subsequently

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Her two blue windows faintly she upheaveth."

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But the eye-lids are the blue windows."