To His Coy Mistress

by Andrew Marvell · 1681 · 1 min di lettura · 46 righe

In breve

“To His Coy Mistress” by Andrew Marvell is a poem about a speaker urging a woman to accept physical love before time and death end their chances. He begins by imagining unlimited time, with her finding rubies beside the Ganges while he waits by the Humber. In that world, he could spend centuries praising her beauty and let his love grow slowly like a plant. Then the mood darkens: time approaches in a winged chariot, and the grave threatens beauty, desire, and her preserved virginity. Finally, he urges them to act while they are young, comparing their passion to hungry birds of prey. They cannot stop the sun, he concludes, but they can make their brief lives more intense.

Had we but World enough, and Time,This coyness Lady were no crime.We would sit down, and think which wayTo walk, and pass our long Loves Day.Thou by the Indian Ganges sideShould’st Rubies find; I by the TideOf Humber would complain. I wouldLove you ten years before the Flood:And you should if you please refuseTill the Conversion of the Jews.My vegetable Love should growVaster then Empires, and more slow.An hundred years should go to praiseThine Eyes, and on thy Forehead Gaze.Two hundred to adore each Breast:But thirty thousand to the rest.An Age at least to every part,And the last Age should show your Heart.For Lady you deserve this State;Nor would I love at lower rate.But at my back I alwaies hearTimes winged Charriot hurrying near:And yonder all before us lyeDesarts of vast Eternity.Thy Beauty shall no more be found,Nor, in thy marble Vault, shall soundMy ecchoing Song: then Worms shall tryThat long preserv’d Virginity:And your quaint Honour turn to dust;And into ashes all my Lust.The Grave’s a fine and private place,But none I think do there embrace.

Now therefore, while the youthful hewSits on thy skin like morning glew,And while thy willing Soul transpiresAt every pore with instant Fires,Now let us sport us while we may;And now, like am’rous birds of prey,Rather at once our Time devour,Than languish in his slow-chapt pow’r.Let us roll all our Strength, and allOur sweetness, up into one Ball:And tear our Pleasures with rough strife,Thorough the Iron gates of Life.Thus, though we cannot make our SunStand still, yet we will make him run.

Il significato, riga per riga

Righe da 1 a 20: The speaker imagines a world with unlimited space and time, where the woman’s hesitation would be acceptable. Distant rivers, biblical time spans, and centuries spent praising her body make his patience seem enormous. His plantlike love would grow slowly. This extravagant praise establishes the generous courtship he claims he would offer if life allowed it.

Righe da 21 a 32: The word “But” overturns the fantasy. Time becomes a pursuing chariot, while eternity looks like an empty desert. The speaker imagines her beauty disappearing and worms reaching the body she has kept untouched. His own desire will also end. The dry joke about the grave turns privacy into something useless without life and physical affection.

Righe da 33 a 46: The speaker turns death’s threat into an argument for immediate pleasure. He presents the woman as youthful and willing, though readers hear only his voice. Birds of prey and forceful images of breaking through gates make desire seem active and fierce. The ending admits that time cannot stop, but imagines passion making it move at their pace.

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Tre domande su cui riflettere

How does the opening fantasy of unlimited time shape the speaker’s later argument for urgency?
What effects do the images of the chariot, desert, worms, and grave have on the courtship?
How does the speaker describe the woman’s desires, and what remains unknown without her own reply?

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