VENUS O, be advised: thou knowst not what it is with javelin's point a churlish swine to gore. On his bow-back he hath a battle set of bristly pikes that ever threat his foes being moved, he strikes whate'er is in his way, and whom he strikes his crooked tushes slay. Alas, he naught esteems that face of thine. O, let him keep his loathsome cabin still come not within his danger by thy will. His tushes never sheathed he whetteth still, like to a mortal butcher bent to kill. Didst thou not mark my face? Was it not white? Sawest thou not signs of fear lurk in mine eye? Grew I not faint, and fell I not down right? What should I do, seeing thee so indeed, that tremble at th'imagination? The thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed, and fear doth teach it divination: If thou encounter with the boar tomorrow, I prophesy thy death, my living sorrow."