Main Menu Plays Sonnets Poems Notes   Index    The Rape of Lucrece     TO THE 0.1 RIGHT HONORABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY, 0.2 Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Tichfield. 0.3   The love I dedicate to your lordship is without end; whereof this pamphlet, without beginning, 0.4 is but a superfluous moiety. 0.5 The warrant I have of your honourable disposition, not the worth of my untutored lines, makes it assured of 0.6 acceptance. 0.7 What I have done is yours; what I have to do is yours; being part in all I have, devoted yours. 0.8 Were my worth greater, my duty would show greater; meantime, as it is, it is bound to your lordship, to whom I 0.9 wish long life, still lengthened with all happiness. 0.10   Your lordship's in all duty, 0.11 WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. 0.12   The Argument 0.13 Lucius Tarquinius, for his excessive pride surnamed Superbus, after he had caused his 0.14 own father-in-law Servius Tullius to be cruelly murdered, and, contrary to the Roman 0.15 laws and customs, not requiring or staying for the people's suffrages, had possessed 0.16 himself of the kingdom, went, accompanied with his sons and other noblemen of 0.17 Rome, to besiege Ardea. During which siege the principal men of the army meeting 0.18 one evening at the tent of Sextus Tarquinius, the king's son, in their discourses after 0.19 supper every one commended the virtues of his own wife: among whom Collatinus 0.20 extolled the incomparable chastity of his wife Lucretia. In that pleasant humour they 0.21 posted to Rome; and intending, by their secret and sudden arrival, to make trial of that 0.22 which every one had before avouched, only Collatinus finds his wife, though it were 0.23 late in the night, spinning amongst her maids: the other ladies were all found dancing 0.24 and revelling, or in several disports. Whereupon the noblemen yielded Collatinus the 0.25 victory, and his wife the fame. At that time Sextus Tarquinius being inflamed with 0.26 Lucrece' beauty, yet smothering his passions for the present, departed with the rest 0.27 back to the camp; from whence he shortly after privily withdrew himself, and was, 0.28 according to his estate, royally entertained and lodged by Lucrece at Collatium. 0.29   The same night he treacherously stealeth into her chamber, violently ravished her, and 0.30 early in the morning speedeth away. Lucrece, in this lamentable plight, hastily 0.31 dispatcheth messengers, one to Rome for her father, another to the camp for Collatine. 0.32 They came, the one accompanied with Junius Brutus, the other with Publius Valerius; 0.33 and finding Lucrece attired in mourning habit, demanded the cause of her sorrow. 0.34 She, first taking an oath of them for her revenge, revealed the actor, and whole 0.35 manner of his dealing, and withal suddenly stabbed herself. Which done, with one 0.36 consent they all vowed to root out the whole hated family of the Tarquins; and 0.37 bearing the dead body to Rome, Brutus acquainted the people with the doer and 0.38 manner of the vile deed, with a bitter invective against the tyranny of the king: 0.39 wherewith the people were so moved, that with one consent and a general acclamation 0.40 the Tarquins were all exiled, and the state government changed from kings to consuls. 0.41   From the besieged Ardea all in post, 1 Borne by the trustless wings of false desire, 2 Lust-breathed Tarquin leaves the Roman host, 3 And to Collatium bears the lightless fire 4 Which, in pale embers hid, lurks to aspire 5 And girdle with embracing flames the waist 6 Of Collatine's fair love, Lucrece the chaste. 7   Haply that name of 'chaste' unhappily set 8 This bateless edge on his keen appetite; 9 When Collatine unwisely did not let 10 To praise the clear unmatched red and white 11 Which triumph'd in that sky of his delight, 12 Where mortal stars, as bright as heaven's beauties, 13 With pure aspects did him peculiar duties. 14   For he the night before, in Tarquin's tent, 15 Unlock'd the treasure of his happy state; 16 What priceless wealth the heavens had him lent 17 In the possession of his beauteous mate; 18 Reckoning his fortune at such high-proud rate, 19 That kings might be espoused to more fame, 20 But king nor peer to such a peerless dame. 21   O happiness enjoy'd but of a few! 22 And, if possess'd, as soon decay'd and done 23 As is the morning's silver-melting dew 24 Against the golden splendor of the sun! 25 An expired date, cancell'd ere well begun: 26 Honour and beauty, in the owner's arms, 27 Are weakly fortress'd from a world of harms. 28   Beauty itself doth of itself persuade 29 The eyes of men without an orator; 30 What needeth then apologies be made, 31 To set forth that which is so singular? 32 Or why is Collatine the publisher 33 Of that rich jewel he should keep unknown 34 From thievish ears, because it is his own? 35   Perchance his boast of Lucrece' sovereignty 36 Suggested this proud issue of a king; 37 For by our ears our hearts oft tainted be: 38 Perchance that envy of so rich a thing, 39 Braving compare, disdainfully did sting 40 His high-pitch'd thoughts, that meaner men should vaunt 41 That golden hap which their superiors want. 42   But some untimely thought did instigate 43 His all-too-timeless speed, if none of those: 44 His honour, his affairs, his friends, his state, 45 Neglected all, with swift intent he goes 46 To quench the coal which in his liver glows. 47 O rash false heat, wrapp'd in repentant cold, 48 Thy hasty spring still blasts, and ne'er grows old! 49   When at Collatium this false lord arrived, 50 Well was he welcomed by the Roman dame, 51 Within whose face beauty and virtue strived 52 Which of them both should underprop her fame: 53 When virtue bragg'd, beauty would blush for shame; 54 When beauty boasted blushes, in despite 55 Virtue would stain that o'er with silver white. 56   But beauty, in that white intituled, 57 From Venus' doves doth challenge that fair field: 58 Then virtue claims from beauty beauty's red, 59 Which virtue gave the golden age to gild 60 Their silver cheeks, and call'd it then their shield; 61 Teaching them thus to use it in the fight, 62 When shame assail'd, the red should fence the white. 63   This heraldry in Lucrece' face was seen, 64 Argued by beauty's red and virtue's white 65 Of either's colour was the other queen, 66 Proving from world's minority their right: 67 Yet their ambition makes them still to fight; 68 The sovereignty of either being so great, 69 That oft they interchange each other's seat. 70   Their silent war of lilies and of roses, 71 Which Tarquin view'd in her fair face's field, 72 In their pure ranks his traitor eye encloses; 73 Where, lest between them both it should be kill'd, 74 The coward captive vanquished doth yield 75 To those two armies that would let him go, 76 Rather than triumph in so false a foe. 77   Now thinks he that her husband's shallow tongue,-- 78 The niggard prodigal that praised her so,-- 79 In that high task hath done her beauty wrong, 80 Which far exceeds his barren skill to show: 81 Therefore that praise which Collatine doth owe 82 Enchanted Tarquin answers with surmise, 83 In silent wonder of still-gazing eyes. 84   This earthly saint, adored by this devil, 85 Little suspecteth the false worshipper; 86 For unstain'd thoughts do seldom dream on evil; 87 Birds never limed no secret bushes fear: 88 So guiltless she securely gives good cheer 89 And reverend welcome to her princely guest, 90 Whose inward ill no outward harm express'd: 91   For that he colour'd with his high estate, 92 Hiding base sin in plaits of majesty; 93 That nothing in him seem'd inordinate, 94 Save something too much wonder of his eye, 95 Which, having all, all could not satisfy; 96 But, poorly rich, so wanteth in his store, 97 That, cloy'd with much, he pineth still for more. 98   But she, that never coped with stranger eyes, 99 Could pick no meaning from their parling looks, 100 Nor read the subtle-shining secrecies 101 Writ in the glassy margents of such books: 102 She touch'd no unknown baits, nor fear'd no hooks; 103 Nor could she moralize his wanton sight, 104 More than his eyes were open'd to the light. 105   He stories to her ears her husband's fame, 106 Won in the fields of fruitful Italy; 107 And decks with praises Collatine's high name, 108 Made glorious by his manly chivalry 109 With bruised arms and wreaths of victory: 110 Her joy with heaved-up hand she doth express, 111 And, wordless, so greets heaven for his success. 112   Far from the purpose of his coming hither, 113 He makes excuses for his being there: 114 No cloudy show of stormy blustering weather 115 Doth yet in his fair welkin once appear; 116 Till sable Night, mother of Dread and Fear, 117 Upon the world dim darkness doth display, 118 And in her vaulty prison stows the Day. 119   For then is Tarquin brought unto his bed, 120 Intending weariness with heavy spright; 121 For, after supper, long he questioned 122 With modest Lucrece, and wore out the night: 123 Now leaden slumber with life's strength doth fight; 124 And every one to rest themselves betake, 125 Save thieves, and cares, and troubled minds, that wake. 126   As one of which doth Tarquin lie revolving 127 The sundry dangers of his will's obtaining; 128 Yet ever to obtain his will resolving, 129 Though weak-built hopes persuade him to abstaining: 130 Despair to gain doth traffic oft for gaining; 131 And when great treasure is the meed proposed, 132 Though death be adjunct, there's no death supposed. 133   Those that much covet are with gain so fond, 134 For what they have not, that which they possess 135 They scatter and unloose it from their bond, 136 And so, by hoping more, they have but less; 137 Or, gaining more, the profit of excess 138 Is but to surfeit, and such griefs sustain, 139 That they prove bankrupt in this poor-rich gain. 140   The aim of all is but to nurse the life 141 With honour, wealth, and ease, in waning age; 142 And in this aim there is such thwarting strife, 143 That one for all, or all for one we gage; 144 As life for honour in fell battle's rage; 145 Honour for wealth; and oft that wealth doth cost 146 The death of all, and all together lost. 147   So that in venturing ill we leave to be 148 The things we are for that which we expect; 149 And this ambitious foul infirmity, 150 In having much, torments us with defect 151 Of that we have: so then we do neglect 152 The thing we have; and, all for want of wit, 153 Make something nothing by augmenting it. 154   Such hazard now must doting Tarquin make, 155 Pawning his honour to obtain his lust; 156 And for himself himself be must forsake: 157 Then where is truth, if there be no self-trust? 158 When shall he think to find a stranger just, 159 When he himself himself confounds, betrays 160 To slanderous tongues and wretched hateful days? 161   Now stole upon the time the dead of night, 162 When heavy sleep had closed up mortal eyes: 163 No comfortable star did lend his light, 164 No noise but owls' and wolves' death-boding cries; 165 Now serves the season that they may surprise 166 The silly lambs: pure thoughts are dead and still, 167 While lust and murder wake to stain and kill. 168   And now this lustful lord leap'd from his bed, 169 Throwing his mantle rudely o'er his arm; 170 Is madly toss'd between desire and dread; 171 Th' one sweetly flatters, th' other feareth harm; 172 But honest fear, bewitch'd with lust's foul charm, 173 Doth too too oft betake him to retire, 174 Beaten away by brain-sick rude desire. 175   His falchion on a flint he softly smiteth, 176 That from the cold stone sparks of fire do fly; 177 Whereat a waxen torch forthwith he lighteth, 178 Which must be lode-star to his lustful eye; 179 And to the flame thus speaks advisedly, 180 'As from this cold flint I enforced this fire, 181 So Lucrece must I force to my desire.' 182   Here pale with fear he doth premeditate 183 The dangers of his loathsome enterprise, 184 And in his inward mind he doth debate 185 What following sorrow may on this arise: 186 Then looking scornfully, he doth despise 187 His naked armour of still-slaughter'd lust, 188 And justly thus controls his thoughts unjust: 189   'Fair torch, burn out thy light, and lend it not 190 To darken her whose light excelleth thine: 191 And die, unhallow'd thoughts, before you blot 192 With your uncleanness that which is divine; 193 Offer pure incense to so pure a shrine: 194 Let fair humanity abhor the deed 195 That spots and stains love's modest snow-white weed. 196   'O shame to knighthood and to shining arms! 197 O foul dishonour to my household's grave! 198 O impious act, including all foul harms! 199 A martial man to be soft fancy's slave! 200 True valour still a true respect should have; 201 Then my digression is so vile, so base, 202 That it will live engraven in my face. 203   'Yea, though I die, the scandal will survive, 204 And be an eye-sore in my golden coat; 205 Some loathsome dash the herald will contrive, 206 To cipher me how fondly I did dote; 207 That my posterity, shamed with the note 208 Shall curse my bones, and hold it for no sin 209 To wish that I their father had not bin. 210   'What win I, if I gain the thing I seek? 211 A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. 212 Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week? 213 Or sells eternity to get a toy? 214 For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy? 215 Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown, 216 Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down? 217   'If Collatinus dream of my intent, 218 Will he not wake, and in a desperate rage 219 Post hither, this vile purpose to prevent? 220 This siege that hath engirt his marriage, 221 This blur to youth, this sorrow to the sage, 222 This dying virtue, this surviving shame, 223 Whose crime will bear an ever-during blame? 224   'O, what excuse can my invention make, 225 When thou shalt charge me with so black a deed? 226 Will not my tongue be mute, my frail joints shake, 227 Mine eyes forego their light, my false heart bleed? 228 The guilt being great, the fear doth still exceed; 229 And extreme fear can neither fight nor fly, 230 But coward-like with trembling terror die. 231   'Had Collatinus kill'd my son or sire, 232 Or lain in ambush to betray my life, 233 Or were he not my dear friend, this desire 234 Might have excuse to work upon his wife, 235 As in revenge or quittal of such strife: 236 But as he is my kinsman, my dear friend, 237 The shame and fault finds no excuse nor end. 238   'Shameful it is; ay, if the fact be known: 239 Hateful it is; there is no hate in loving: 240 I'll beg her love; but she is own: 241 The worst is but denial and reproving: 242 My will is strong, past reason's weak removing. 243 Who fears a sentence or an old man's saw 244 Shall by a painted cloth be kept in awe.' 245   Thus, graceless, holds he disputation 246 'Tween frozen conscience and hot-burning will, 247 And with good thoughts make dispensation, 248 Urging the worser sense for vantage still; 249 Which in a moment doth confound and kill 250 All pure effects, and doth so far proceed, 251 That what is vile shows like a virtuous deed. 252   Quoth he, 'She took me kindly by the hand, 253 And gazed for tidings in my eager eyes, 254 Fearing some hard news from the warlike band, 255 Where her beloved Collatinus lies. 256 O, how her fear did make her colour rise! 257 First red as roses that on lawn we lay, 258 Then white as lawn, the roses took away. 259   'And how her hand, in my hand being lock'd 260 Forced it to tremble with her loyal fear! 261 Which struck her sad, and then it faster rock'd, 262 Until her husband's welfare she did hear; 263 Whereat she smiled with so sweet a cheer, 264 That had Narcissus seen her as she stood, 265 Self-love had never drown'd him in the flood. 266   'Why hunt I then for colour or excuses? 267 All orators are dumb when beauty pleadeth; 268 Poor wretches have remorse in poor abuses; 269 Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth: 270 Affection is my captain, and he leadeth; 271 And when his gaudy banner is display'd, 272 The coward fights and will not be dismay'd. 273   'Then, childish fear, avaunt! debating, die! 274 Respect and reason, wait on wrinkled age! 275 My heart shall never countermand mine eye: 276 Sad pause and deep regard beseem the sage; 277 My part is youth, and beats these from the stage: 278 Desire my pilot is, beauty my prize; 279 Then who fears sinking where such treasure lies?' 280   As corn o'ergrown by weeds, so heedful fear 281 Is almost choked by unresisted lust. 282 Away he steals with open listening ear, 283 Full of foul hope and full of fond mistrust; 284 Both which, as servitors to the unjust, 285 So cross him with their opposite persuasion, 286 That now he vows a league, and now invasion. 287   Within his thought her heavenly image sits, 288 And in the self-same seat sits Collatine: 289 That eye which looks on her confounds his wits; 290 That eye which him beholds, as more divine, 291 Unto a view so false will not incline; 292 But with a pure appeal seeks to the heart, 293 Which once corrupted takes the worser part; 294   And therein heartens up his servile powers, 295 Who, flatter'd by their leader's jocund show, 296 Stuff up his lust, as minutes fill up hours; 297 And as their captain, so their pride doth grow, 298 Paying more slavish tribute than they owe. 299 By reprobate desire thus madly led, 300 The Roman lord marcheth to Lucrece' bed. 301   The locks between her chamber and his will, 302 Each one by him enforced, retires his ward; 303 But, as they open, they all rate his ill, 304 Which drives the creeping thief to some regard: 305 The threshold grates the door to have him heard; 306 Night-wandering weasels shriek to see him there; 307 They fright him, yet he still pursues his fear. 308   As each unwilling portal yields him way, 309 Through little vents and crannies of the place 310 The wind wars with his torch to make him stay, 311 And blows the smoke of it into his face, 312 Extinguishing his conduct in this case; 313 But his hot heart, which fond desire doth scorch, 314 Puffs forth another wind that fires the torch: 315   And being lighted, by the light he spies 316 Lucretia's glove, wherein her needle sticks: 317 He takes it from the rushes where it lies, 318 And griping it, the needle his finger pricks; 319 As who should say 'This glove to wanton tricks 320 Is not inured; return again in haste; 321 Thou see'st our mistress' ornaments are chaste.' 322   But all these poor forbiddings could not stay him; 323 He in the worst sense construes their denial: 324 The doors, the wind, the glove, that did delay him, 325 He takes for accidental things of trial; 326 Or as those bars which stop the hourly dial, 327 Who with a lingering slay his course doth let, 328 Till every minute pays the hour his debt. 329   'So, so,' quoth he, 'these lets attend the time, 330 Like little frosts that sometime threat the spring, 331 To add a more rejoicing to the prime, 332 And give the sneaped birds more cause to sing. 333 Pain pays the income of each precious thing; 334 Huge rocks, high winds, strong pirates, shelves and sands, 335 The merchant fears, ere rich at home he lands.' 336   Now is he come unto the chamber-door, 337 That shuts him from the heaven of his thought, 338 Which with a yielding latch, and with no more, 339 Hath barr'd him from the blessed thing be sought. 340 So from himself impiety hath wrought, 341 That for his prey to pray he doth begin, 342 As if the heavens should countenance his sin. 343   But in the midst of his unfruitful prayer, 344 Having solicited th' eternal power 345 That his foul thoughts might compass his fair fair, 346 And they would stand auspicious to the hour, 347 Even there he starts: quoth he, 'I must deflower: 348 The powers to whom I pray abhor this fact, 349 How can they then assist me in the act? 350   'Then Love and Fortune be my gods, my guide! 351 My will is back'd with resolution: 352 Thoughts are but dreams till their effects be tried; 353 The blackest sin is clear'd with absolution; 354 Against love's fire fear's frost hath dissolution. 355 The eye of heaven is out, and misty night 356 Covers the shame that follows sweet delight.' 357   This said, his guilty hand pluck'd up the latch, 358 And with his knee the door he opens wide. 359 The dove sleeps fast that this night-owl will catch: 360 Thus treason works ere traitors be espied. 361 Who sees the lurking serpent steps aside; 362 But she, sound sleeping, fearing no such thing, 363 Lies at the mercy of his mortal sting. 364   Into the chamber wickedly he stalks, 365 And gazeth on her yet unstained bed. 366 The curtains being close, about he walks, 367 Rolling his greedy eyeballs in his head: 368 By their high treason is his heart misled; 369 Which gives the watch-word to his hand full soon 370 To draw the cloud that hides the silver moon. 371   Look, as the fair and fiery-pointed sun, 372 Rushing from forth a cloud, bereaves our sight; 373 Even so, the curtain drawn, his eyes begun 374 To wink, being blinded with a greater light: 375 Whether it is that she reflects so bright, 376 That dazzleth them, or else some shame supposed; 377 But blind they are, and keep themselves enclosed. 378   O, had they in that darksome prison died! 379 Then had they seen the period of their ill; 380 Then Collatine again, by Lucrece' side, 381 In his clear bed might have reposed still: 382 But they must ope, this blessed league to kill; 383 And holy-thoughted Lucrece to their sight 384 Must sell her joy, her life, her world's delight. 385   Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under, 386 Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss; 387 Who, therefore angry, seems to part in sunder, 388 Swelling on either side to want his bliss; 389 Between whose hills her head entombed is: 390 Where, like a virtuous monument, she lies, 391 To be admired of lewd unhallow'd eyes. 392   Without the bed her other fair hand was, 393 On the green coverlet; whose perfect white 394 Show'd like an April daisy on the grass, 395 With pearly sweat, resembling dew of night. 396 Her eyes, like marigolds, had sheathed their light, 397 And canopied in darkness sweetly lay, 398 Till they might open to adorn the day. 399   Her hair, like golden threads, play'd with her breath; 400 O modest wantons! wanton modesty! 401 Showing life's triumph in the map of death, 402 And death's dim look in life's mortality: 403 Each in her sleep themselves so beautify, 404 As if between them twain there were no strife, 405 But that life lived in death, and death in life. 406   Her breasts, like ivory globes circled with blue, 407 A pair of maiden worlds unconquered, 408 Save of their lord no bearing yoke they knew, 409 And him by oath they truly honoured. 410 These worlds in Tarquin new ambition bred; 411 Who, like a foul ursurper, went about 412 From this fair throne to heave the owner out. 413   What could he see but mightily he noted? 414 What did he note but strongly he desired? 415 What he beheld, on that he firmly doted, 416 And in his will his wilful eye he tired. 417 With more than admiration he admired 418 Her azure veins, her alabaster skin, 419 Her coral lips, her snow-white dimpled chin. 420   As the grim lion fawneth o'er his prey, 421 Sharp hunger by the conquest satisfied, 422 So o'er this sleeping soul doth Tarquin stay, 423 His rage of lust by gazing qualified; 424 Slack'd, not suppress'd; for standing by her side, 425 His eye, which late this mutiny restrains, 426 Unto a greater uproar tempts his veins: 427   And they, like straggling slaves for pillage fighting, 428 Obdurate vassals fell exploits effecting, 429 In bloody death and ravishment delighting, 430 Nor children's tears nor mothers' groans respecting, 431 Swell in their pride, the onset still expecting: 432 Anon his beating heart, alarum striking, 433 Gives the hot charge and bids them do their liking. 434   His drumming heart cheers up his burning eye, 435 His eye commends the leading to his hand; 436 His hand, as proud of such a dignity, 437 Smoking with pride, march'd on to make his stand 438 On her bare breast, the heart of all her land; 439 Whose ranks of blue veins, as his hand did scale, 440 Left there round turrets destitute and pale. 441   They, mustering to the quiet cabinet 442 Where their dear governess and lady lies, 443 Do tell her she is dreadfully beset, 444 And fright her with confusion of their cries: 445 She, much amazed, breaks ope her lock'd-up eyes, 446 Who, peeping forth this tumult to behold, 447 Are by his flaming torch dimm'd and controll'd. 448   Imagine her as one in dead of night 449 From forth dull sleep by dreadful fancy waking, 450 That thinks she hath beheld some ghastly sprite, 451 Whose grim aspect sets every joint a-shaking; 452 What terror or 'tis! but she, in worser taking, 453 From sleep disturbed, heedfully doth view 454 The sight which makes supposed terror true. 455   Wrapp'd and confounded in a thousand fears, 456 Like to a new-kill'd bird she trembling lies; 457 She dares not look; yet, winking, there appears 458 Quick-shifting antics, ugly in her eyes: 459 Such shadows are the weak brain's forgeries; 460 Who, angry that the eyes fly from their lights, 461 In darkness daunts them with more dreadful sights. 462   His hand, that yet remains upon her breast,-- 463 Rude ram, to batter such an ivory wall!-- 464 May feel her heart-poor citizen!--distress'd, 465 Wounding itself to death, rise up and fall, 466 Beating her bulk, that his hand shakes withal. 467 This moves in him more rage and lesser pity, 468 To make the breach and enter this sweet city. 469   First, like a trumpet, doth his tongue begin 470 To sound a parley to his heartless foe; 471 Who o'er the white sheet peers her whiter chin, 472 The reason of this rash alarm to know, 473 Which he by dumb demeanor seeks to show; 474 But she with vehement prayers urgeth still 475 Under what colour he commits this ill. 476   Thus he replies: 'The colour in thy face, 477 That even for anger makes the lily pale, 478 And the red rose blush at her own disgrace, 479 Shall plead for me and tell my loving tale: 480 Under that colour am I come to scale 481 Thy never-conquer'd fort: the fault is thine, 482 For those thine eyes betray thee unto mine. 483   'Thus I forestall thee, if thou mean to chide: 484 Thy beauty hath ensnared thee to this night, 485 Where thou with patience must my will abide; 486 My will that marks thee for my earth's delight, 487 Which I to conquer sought with all my might; 488 But as reproof and reason beat it dead, 489 By thy bright beauty was it newly bred. 490   'I see what crosses my attempt will bring; 491 I know what thorns the growing rose defends; 492 I think the honey guarded with a sting; 493 All this beforehand counsel comprehends: 494 But will is deaf and hears no heedful friends; 495 Only he hath an eye to gaze on beauty, 496 And dotes on what he looks, 'gainst law or duty. 497   'I have debated, even in my soul, 498 What wrong, what shame, what sorrow I shall breed; 499 But nothing can affection's course control, 500 Or stop the headlong fury of his speed. 501 I know repentant tears ensue the deed, 502 Reproach, disdain, and deadly enmity; 503 Yet strive I to embrace mine infamy.' 504   This said, he shakes aloft his Roman blade, 505 Which, like a falcon towering in the skies, 506 Coucheth the fowl below with his wings' shade, 507 Whose crooked beak threats if he mount he dies: 508 So under his insulting falchion lies 509 Harmless Lucretia, marking what he tells 510 With trembling fear, as fowl hear falcon's bells. 511   'Lucrece,' quoth he,'this night I must enjoy thee: 512 If thou deny, then force must work my way, 513 For in thy bed I purpose to destroy thee: 514 That done, some worthless slave of thine I'll slay, 515 To kill thine honour with thy life's decay; 516 And in thy dead arms do I mean to place him, 517 Swearing I slew him, seeing thee embrace him. 518   'So thy surviving husband shall remain 519 The scornful mark of every open eye; 520 Thy kinsmen hang their heads at this disdain, 521 Thy issue blurr'd with nameless bastardy: 522 And thou, the author of their obloquy, 523 Shalt have thy trespass cited up in rhymes, 524 And sung by children in succeeding times. 525   'But if thou yield, I rest thy secret friend: 526 The fault unknown is as a thought unacted; 527 A little harm done to a great good end 528 For lawful policy remains enacted. 529 The poisonous simple sometimes is compacted 530 In a pure compound; being so applied, 531 His venom in effect is purified. 532   'Then, for thy husband and thy children's sake, 533 Tender my suit: bequeath not to their lot 534 The shame that from them no device can take, 535 The blemish that will never be forgot; 536 Worse than a slavish wipe or birth-hour's blot: 537 For marks descried in men's nativity 538 Are nature's faults, not their own infamy.' 539   Here with a cockatrice' dead-killing eye 540 He rouseth up himself and makes a pause; 541 While she, the picture of pure piety, 542 Like a white hind under the gripe's sharp claws, 543 Pleads, in a wilderness where are no laws, 544 To the rough beast that knows no gentle right, 545 Nor aught obeys but his foul appetite. 546   But when a black-faced cloud the world doth threat, 547 In his dim mist the aspiring mountains hiding, 548 From earth's dark womb some gentle gust doth get, 549 Which blows these pitchy vapours from their bidding, 550 Hindering their present fall by this dividing; 551 So his unhallow'd haste her words delays, 552 And moody Pluto winks while Orpheus plays. 553   Yet, foul night-waking cat, he doth but dally, 554 While in his hold-fast foot the weak mouse panteth: 555 Her sad behavior feeds his vulture folly, 556 A swallowing gulf that even in plenty wanteth: 557 His ear her prayers admits, but his heart granteth 558 No penetrable entrance to her plaining: 559 Tears harden lust, though marble wear with raining. 560   Her pity-pleading eyes are sadly fix'd 561 In the remorseless wrinkles of his face; 562 Her modest eloquence with sighs is mix'd, 563 Which to her oratory adds more grace. 564 She puts the period often from his place; 565 And midst the sentence so her accent breaks, 566 That twice she doth begin ere once she speaks. 567   She conjures him by high almighty Jove, 568 By knighthood, gentry, and sweet friendship's oath, 569 By her untimely tears, her husband's love, 570 By holy human law, and common troth, 571 By heaven and earth, and all the power of both, 572 That to his borrow'd bed he make retire, 573 And stoop to honour, not to foul desire. 574   Quoth she, 'Reward not hospitality 575 With such black payment as thou hast pretended; 576 Mud not the fountain that gave drink to thee; 577 Mar not the thing that cannot be amended; 578 End thy ill aim before thy shoot be ended; 579 He is no woodman that doth bend his bow 580 To strike a poor unseasonable doe. 581   'My husband is thy friend; for his sake spare me: 582 Thyself art mighty; for thine own sake leave me: 583 Myself a weakling; do not then ensnare me: 584 Thou look'st not like deceit; do not deceive me. 585 My sighs, like whirlwinds, labour hence to heave thee: 586 If ever man were moved with woman moans, 587 Be moved with my tears, my sighs, my groans: 588   'All which together, like a troubled ocean, 589 Beat at thy rocky and wreck-threatening heart, 590 To soften it with their continual motion; 591 For stones dissolved to water do convert. 592 O, if no harder than a stone thou art, 593 Melt at my tears, and be compassionate! 594 Soft pity enters at an iron gate. 595   'In Tarquin's likeness I did entertain thee: 596 Hast thou put on his shape to do him shame? 597 To all the host of heaven I complain me, 598 Thou wrong'st his honour, wound'st his princely name. 599 Thou art not what thou seem'st; and if the same, 600 Thou seem'st not what thou art, a god, a king; 601 For kings like gods should govern everything. 602   'How will thy shame be seeded in thine age, 603 When thus thy vices bud before thy spring! 604 If in thy hope thou darest do such outrage, 605 What darest thou not when once thou art a king? 606 O, be remember'd, no outrageous thing 607 From vassal actors can be wiped away; 608 Then kings' misdeeds cannot be hid in clay. 609   'This deed will make thee only loved for fear; 610 But happy monarchs still are fear'd for love: 611 With foul offenders thou perforce must bear, 612 When they in thee the like offences prove: 613 If but for fear of this, thy will remove; 614 For princes are the glass, the school, the book, 615 Where subjects' eyes do learn, do read, do look. 616   'And wilt thou be the school where Lust shall learn? 617 Must he in thee read lectures of such shame? 618 Wilt thou be glass wherein it shall discern 619 Authority for sin, warrant for blame, 620 To privilege dishonour in thy name? 621 Thou black'st reproach against long-living laud, 622 And makest fair reputation but a bawd. 623   'Hast thou command? by him that gave it thee, 624 From a pure heart command thy rebel will: 625 Draw not thy sword to guard iniquity, 626 For it was lent thee all that brood to kill. 627 Thy princely office how canst thou fulfil, 628 When, pattern'd by thy fault, foul sin may say, 629 He learn'd to sin, and thou didst teach the way? 630   'Think but how vile a spectacle it were, 631 To view thy present trespass in another. 632 Men's faults do seldom to themselves appear; 633 Their own transgressions partially they smother: 634 This guilt would seem death-worthy in thy brother. 635 O, how are they wrapp'd in with infamies 636 That from their own misdeeds askance their eyes! 637   'To thee, to thee, my heaved-up hands appeal, 638 Not to seducing lust, thy rash relier: 639 I sue for exiled majesty's repeal; 640 Let him return, and flattering thoughts retire: 641 His true respect will prison false desire, 642 And wipe the dim mist from thy doting eyne, 643 That thou shalt see thy state and pity mine.' 644   'Have done,' quoth he: 'my uncontrolled tide 645 Turns not, but swells the higher by this let. 646 Small lights are soon blown out, huge fires abide, 647 And with the wind in greater fury fret: 648 The petty streams that pay a daily debt 649 To their salt sovereign, with their fresh falls' haste 650 Add to his flow, but alter not his taste.' 651   'Thou art,' quoth she, 'a sea, a sovereign king; 652 And, lo, there falls into thy boundless flood 653 Black lust, dishonour, shame, misgoverning, 654 Who seek to stain the ocean of thy blood. 655 If all these pretty ills shall change thy good, 656 Thy sea within a puddle's womb is hearsed, 657 And not the puddle in thy sea dispersed. 658   'So shall these slaves be king, and thou their slave; 659 Thou nobly base, they basely dignified; 660 Thou their fair life, and they thy fouler grave: 661 Thou loathed in their shame, they in thy pride: 662 The lesser thing should not the greater hide; 663 The cedar stoops not to the base shrub's foot, 664 But low shrubs wither at the cedar's root. 665   'So let thy thoughts, low vassals to thy state'-- 666 No more,' quoth he; 'by heaven, I will not hear thee: 667 Yield to my love; if not, enforced hate, 668 Instead of love's coy touch, shall rudely tear thee; 669 That done, despitefully I mean to bear thee 670 Unto the base bed of some rascal groom, 671 To be thy partner in this shameful doom.' 672   This said, he sets his foot upon the light, 673 For light and lust are deadly enemies: 674 Shame folded up in blind concealing night, 675 When most unseen, then most doth tyrannize. 676 The wolf hath seized his prey, the poor lamb cries; 677 Till with her own white fleece her voice controll'd 678 Entombs her outcry in her lips' sweet fold: 679   For with the nightly linen that she wears 680 He pens her piteous clamours in her head; 681 Cooling his hot face in the chastest tears 682 That ever modest eyes with sorrow shed. 683 O, that prone lust should stain so pure a bed! 684 The spots whereof could weeping purify, 685 Her tears should drop on them perpetually. 686   But she hath lost a dearer thing than life, 687 And he hath won what he would lose again: 688 This forced league doth force a further strife; 689 This momentary joy breeds months of pain; 690 This hot desire converts to cold disdain: 691 Pure Chastity is rifled of her store, 692 And Lust, the thief, far poorer than before. 693   Look, as the full-fed hound or gorged hawk, 694 Unapt for tender smell or speedy flight, 695 Make slow pursuit, or altogether balk 696 The prey wherein by nature they delight; 697 So surfeit-taking Tarquin fares this night: 698 His taste delicious, in digestion souring, 699 Devours his will, that lived by foul devouring. 700   O, deeper sin than bottomless conceit 701 Can comprehend in still imagination! 702 Drunken Desire must vomit his receipt, 703 Ere he can see his own abomination. 704 While Lust is in his pride, no exclamation 705 Can curb his heat or rein his rash desire, 706 Till like a jade Self-will himself doth tire. 707   And then with lank and lean discolour'd cheek, 708 With heavy eye, knit brow, and strengthless pace, 709 Feeble Desire, all recreant, poor, and meek, 710 Like to a bankrupt beggar wails his case: 711 The flesh being proud, Desire doth fight with Grace, 712 For there it revels; and when that decays, 713 The guilty rebel for remission prays. 714   So fares it with this faultful lord of Rome, 715 Who this accomplishment so hotly chased; 716 For now against himself he sounds this doom, 717 That through the length of times he stands disgraced: 718 Besides, his soul's fair temple is defaced; 719 To whose weak ruins muster troops of cares, 720 To ask the spotted princess how she fares. 721   She says, her subjects with foul insurrection 722 Have batter'd down her consecrated wall, 723 And by their mortal fault brought in subjection 724 Her immortality, and made her thrall 725 To living death and pain perpetual: 726 Which in her prescience she controlled still, 727 But her foresight could not forestall their will. 728   Even in this thought through the dark night he stealeth, 729 A captive victor that hath lost in gain; 730 Bearing away the wound that nothing healeth, 731 The scar that will, despite of cure, remain; 732 Leaving his spoil perplex'd in greater pain. 733 She bears the load of lust he left behind, 734 And he the burden of a guilty mind. 735   He like a thievish dog creeps sadly thence; 736 She like a wearied lamb lies panting there; 737 He scowls and hates himself for his offence; 738 She, desperate, with her nails her flesh doth tear; 739 He faintly flies, sneaking with guilty fear; 740 She stays, exclaiming on the direful night; 741 He runs, and chides his vanish'd, loathed delight. 742   He thence departs a heavy convertite; 743 She there remains a hopeless castaway; 744 He in his speed looks for the morning light; 745 She prays she never may behold the day, 746 'For day,' quoth she, 'nights scapes doth open lay, 747 And my true eyes have never practised how 748 To cloak offences with a cunning brow. 749   'They think not but that every eye can see 750 The same disgrace which they themselves behold; 751 And therefore would they still in darkness be, 752 To have their unseen sin remain untold; 753 For they their guilt with weeping will unfold, 754 And grave, like water that doth eat in steel, 755 Upon my cheeks what helpless shame I feel.' 756   Here she exclaims against repose and rest, 757 And bids her eyes hereafter still be blind. 758 She wakes her heart by beating on her breast, 759 And bids it leap from thence, where it may find 760 Some purer chest to close so pure a mind. 761 Frantic with grief thus breathes she forth her spite 762 Against the unseen secrecy of night: 763   'O comfort-killing Night, image of hell! 764 Dim register and notary of shame! 765 Black stage for tragedies and murders fell! 766 Vast sin-concealing chaos! nurse of blame! 767 Blind muffled bawd! dark harbour for defame! 768 Grim cave of death! whispering conspirator 769 With close-tongued treason and the ravisher! 770   'O hateful, vaporous, and foggy Night! 771 Since thou art guilty of my cureless crime, 772 Muster thy mists to meet the eastern light, 773 Make war against proportion'd course of time; 774 Or if thou wilt permit the sun to climb 775 His wonted height, yet ere he go to bed, 776 Knit poisonous clouds about his golden head. 777   'With rotten damps ravish the morning air; 778 Let their exhaled unwholesome breaths make sick 779 The life of purity, the supreme fair, 780 Ere he arrive his weary noon-tide prick; 781 And let thy misty vapours march so thick, 782 That in their smoky ranks his smother'd light 783 May set at noon and make perpetual night. 784   'Were Tarquin Night, as he is but Night's child, 785 The silver-shining queen he would distain; 786 Her twinkling handmaids too, by him defiled, 787 Through Night's black bosom should not peep again: 788 So should I have co-partners in my pain; 789 And fellowship in woe doth woe assuage, 790 As palmers' chat makes short their pilgrimage. 791   'Where now I have no one to blush with me, 792 To cross their arms and hang their heads with mine, 793 To mask their brows and hide their infamy; 794 But I alone alone must sit and pine, 795 Seasoning the earth with showers of silver brine, 796 Mingling my talk with tears, my grief with groans, 797 Poor wasting monuments of lasting moans. 798   'O Night, thou furnace of foul-reeking smoke, 799 Let not the jealous Day behold that face 800 Which underneath thy black all-hiding cloak 801 Immodestly lies martyr'd with disgrace! 802 Keep still possession of thy gloomy place, 803 That all the faults which in thy reign are made 804 May likewise be sepulchred in thy shade! 805   'Make me not object to the tell-tale Day! 806 The light will show, character'd in my brow, 807 The story of sweet chastity's decay, 808 The impious breach of holy wedlock vow: 809 Yea the illiterate, that know not how 810 To cipher what is writ in learned books, 811 Will quote my loathsome trespass in my looks. 812   'The nurse, to still her child, will tell my story, 813 And fright her crying babe with Tarquin's name; 814 The orator, to deck his oratory, 815 Will couple my reproach to Tarquin's shame; 816 Feast-finding minstrels, tuning my defame, 817 Will tie the hearers to attend each line, 818 How Tarquin wronged me, I Collatine. 819   'Let my good name, that senseless reputation, 820 For Collatine's dear love be kept unspotted: 821 If that be made a theme for disputation, 822 The branches of another root are rotted, 823 And undeserved reproach to him allotted 824 That is as clear from this attaint of mine 825 As I, ere this, was pure to Collatine. 826   'O unseen shame! invisible disgrace! 827 O unfelt sore! crest-wounding, private scar! 828 Reproach is stamp'd in Collatinus' face, 829 And Tarquin's eye may read the mot afar, 830 How he in peace is wounded, not in war. 831 Alas, how many bear such shameful blows, 832 Which not themselves, but he that gives them knows! 833   'If, Collatine, thine honour lay in me, 834 From me by strong assault it is bereft. 835 My honour lost, and I, a drone-like bee, 836 Have no perfection of my summer left, 837 But robb'd and ransack'd by injurious theft: 838 In thy weak hive a wandering wasp hath crept, 839 And suck'd the honey which thy chaste bee kept. 840   'Yet am I guilty of thy honour's wrack; 841 Yet for thy honour did I entertain him; 842 Coming from thee, I could not put him back, 843 For it had been dishonour to disdain him: 844 Besides, of weariness he did complain him, 845 And talk'd of virtue: O unlook'd-for evil, 846 When virtue is profaned in such a devil! 847   'Why should the worm intrude the maiden bud? 848 Or hateful cuckoos hatch in sparrows' nests? 849 Or toads infect fair founts with venom mud? 850 Or tyrant folly lurk in gentle breasts? 851 Or kings be breakers of their own behests? 852 But no perfection is so absolute, 853 That some impurity doth not pollute. 854   'The aged man that coffers-up his gold 855 Is plagued with cramps and gouts and painful fits; 856 And scarce hath eyes his treasure to behold, 857 But like still-pining Tantalus he sits, 858 And useless barns the harvest of his wits; 859 Having no other pleasure of his gain 860 But torment that it cannot cure his pain. 861   'So then he hath it when he cannot use it, 862 And leaves it to be master'd by his young; 863 Who in their pride do presently abuse it: 864 Their father was too weak, and they too strong, 865 To hold their cursed-blessed fortune long. 866 The sweets we wish for turn to loathed sours 867 Even in the moment that we call them ours. 868   'Unruly blasts wait on the tender spring; 869 Unwholesome weeds take root with precious flowers; 870 The adder hisses where the sweet birds sing; 871 What virtue breeds iniquity devours: 872 We have no good that we can say is ours, 873 But ill-annexed Opportunity 874 Or kills his life or else his quality. 875   'O Opportunity, thy guilt is great! 876 'Tis thou that executest the traitor's treason: 877 Thou set'st the wolf where he the lamb may get; 878 Whoever plots the sin, thou 'point'st the season; 879 'Tis thou that spurn'st at right, at law, at reason; 880 And in thy shady cell, where none may spy him, 881 Sits Sin, to seize the souls that wander by him. 882   'Thou makest the vestal violate her oath; 883 Thou blow'st the fire when temperance is thaw'd; 884 Thou smother'st honesty, thou murder'st troth; 885 Thou foul abettor! thou notorious bawd! 886 Thou plantest scandal and displacest laud: 887 Thou ravisher, thou traitor, thou false thief, 888 Thy honey turns to gall, thy joy to grief! 889   'Thy secret pleasure turns to open shame, 890 Thy private feasting to a public fast, 891 Thy smoothing titles to a ragged name, 892 Thy sugar'd tongue to bitter wormwood taste: 893 Thy violent vanities can never last. 894 How comes it then, vile Opportunity, 895 Being so bad, such numbers seek for thee? 896   'When wilt thou be the humble suppliant's friend, 897 And bring him where his suit may be obtain'd? 898 When wilt thou sort an hour great strifes to end? 899 Or free that soul which wretchedness hath chain'd? 900 Give physic to the sick, ease to the pain'd? 901 The poor, lame, blind, halt, creep, cry out for thee; 902 But they ne'er meet with Opportunity. 903   'The patient dies while the physician sleeps; 904 The orphan pines while the oppressor feeds; 905 Justice is feasting while the widow weeps; 906 Advice is sporting while infection breeds: 907 Thou grant'st no time for charitable deeds: 908 Wrath, envy, treason, rape, and murder's rages, 909 Thy heinous hours wait on them as their pages. 910   'When Truth and Virtue have to do with thee, 911 A thousand crosses keep them from thy aid: 912 They buy thy help; but Sin ne'er gives a fee, 913 He gratis comes; and thou art well appaid 914 As well to hear as grant what he hath said. 915 My Collatine would else have come to me 916 When Tarquin did, but he was stay'd by thee. 917   Guilty thou art of murder and of theft, 918 Guilty of perjury and subornation, 919 Guilty of treason, forgery, and shift, 920 Guilty of incest, that abomination; 921 An accessary by thine inclination 922 To all sins past, and all that are to come, 923 From the creation to the general doom. 924   'Mis-shapen Time, copesmate of ugly Night, 925 Swift subtle post, carrier of grisly care, 926 Eater of youth, false slave to false delight, 927 Base watch of woes, sin's pack-horse, virtue's snare; 928 Thou nursest all and murder'st all that are: 929 O, hear me then, injurious, shifting Time! 930 Be guilty of my death, since of my crime. 931   'Why hath thy servant, Opportunity, 932 Betray'd the hours thou gavest me to repose, 933 Cancell'd my fortunes, and enchained me 934 To endless date of never-ending woes? 935 Time's office is to fine the hate of foes; 936 To eat up errors by opinion bred, 937 Not spend the dowry of a lawful bed. 938   'Time's glory is to calm contending kings, 939 To unmask falsehood and bring truth to light, 940 To stamp the seal of time in aged things, 941 To wake the morn and sentinel the night, 942 To wrong the wronger till he render right, 943 To ruinate proud buildings with thy hours, 944 And smear with dust their glittering golden towers; 945   'To fill with worm-holes stately monuments, 946 To feed oblivion with decay of things, 947 To blot old books and alter their contents, 948 To pluck the quills from ancient ravens' wings, 949 To dry the old oak's sap and cherish springs, 950 To spoil antiquities of hammer'd steel, 951 And turn the giddy round of Fortune's wheel; 952   'To show the beldam daughters of her daughter, 953 To make the child a man, the man a child, 954 To slay the tiger that doth live by slaughter, 955 To tame the unicorn and lion wild, 956 To mock the subtle in themselves beguiled, 957 To cheer the ploughman with increaseful crops, 958 And waste huge stones with little water drops. 959   'Why work'st thou mischief in thy pilgrimage, 960 Unless thou couldst return to make amends? 961 One poor retiring minute in an age 962 Would purchase thee a thousand thousand friends, 963 Lending him wit that to bad debtors lends: 964 O, this dread night, wouldst thou one hour come back, 965 I could prevent this storm and shun thy wrack! 966   'Thou ceaseless lackey to eternity, 967 With some mischance cross Tarquin in his flight: 968 Devise extremes beyond extremity, 969 To make him curse this cursed crimeful night: 970 Let ghastly shadows his lewd eyes affright; 971 And the dire thought of his committed evil 972 Shape every bush a hideous shapeless devil. 973   'Disturb his hours of rest with restless trances, 974 Afflict him in his bed with bedrid groans; 975 Let there bechance him pitiful mischances, 976 To make him moan; but pity not his moans: 977 Stone him with harden'd hearts harder than stones; 978 And let mild women to him lose their mildness, 979 Wilder to him than tigers in their wildness. 980   'Let him have time to tear his curled hair, 981 Let him have time against himself to rave, 982 Let him have time of Time's help to despair, 983 Let him have time to live a loathed slave, 984 Let him have time a beggar's orts to crave, 985 And time to see one that by alms doth live 986 Disdain to him disdained scraps to give. 987   'Let him have time to see his friends his foes, 988 And merry fools to mock at him resort; 989 Let him have time to mark how slow time goes 990 In time of sorrow, and how swift and short 991 His time of folly and his time of sport; 992 And ever let his unrecalling crime 993 Have time to wail th' abusing of his time. 994   'O Time, thou tutor both to good and bad, 995 Teach me to curse him that thou taught'st this ill! 996 At his own shadow let the thief run mad, 997 Himself himself seek every hour to kill! 998 Such wretched hands such wretched blood should spill; 999 For who so base would such an office have 1000 As slanderous death's-man to so base a slave? 1001   'The baser is he, coming from a king, 1002 To shame his hope with deeds degenerate: 1003 The mightier man, the mightier is the thing 1004 That makes him honour'd, or begets him hate; 1005 For greatest scandal waits on greatest state. 1006 The moon being clouded presently is miss'd, 1007 But little stars may hide them when they list. 1008   'The crow may bathe his coal-black wings in mire, 1009 And unperceived fly with the filth away; 1010 But if the like the snow-white swan desire, 1011 The stain upon his silver down will stay. 1012 Poor grooms are sightless night, kings glorious day: 1013 Gnats are unnoted wheresoe'er they fly, 1014 But eagles gazed upon with every eye. 1015   'Out, idle words, servants to shallow fools! 1016 Unprofitable sounds, weak arbitrators! 1017 Busy yourselves in skill-contending schools; 1018 Debate where leisure serves with dull debaters; 1019 To trembling clients be you mediators: 1020 For me, I force not argument a straw, 1021 Since that my case is past the help of law. 1022   'In vain I rail at Opportunity, 1023 At Time, at Tarquin, and uncheerful Night; 1024 In vain I cavil with mine infamy, 1025 In vain I spurn at my confirm'd despite: 1026 This helpless smoke of words doth me no right. 1027 The remedy indeed to do me good 1028 Is to let forth my foul-defiled blood. 1029   'Poor hand, why quiver'st thou at this decree? 1030 Honour thyself to rid me of this shame: 1031 For if I die, my honour lives in thee; 1032 But if I live, thou livest in my defame: 1033 Since thou couldst not defend thy loyal dame, 1034 And wast afeard to scratch her wicked foe, 1035 Kill both thyself and her for yielding so.' 1036   This said, from her be-tumbled couch she starteth, 1037 To find some desperate instrument of death: 1038 But this no slaughterhouse no tool imparteth 1039 To make more vent for passage of her breath; 1040 Which, thronging through her lips, so vanisheth 1041 As smoke from AEtna, that in air consumes, 1042 Or that which from discharged cannon fumes. 1043   'In vain,' quoth she, 'I live, and seek in vain 1044 Some happy mean to end a hapless life. 1045 I fear'd by Tarquin's falchion to be slain, 1046 Yet for the self-same purpose seek a knife: 1047 But when I fear'd I was a loyal wife: 1048 So am I now: O no, that cannot be; 1049 Of that true type hath Tarquin rifled me. 1050   'O, that is gone for which I sought to live, 1051 And therefore now I need not fear to die. 1052 To clear this spot by death, at least I give 1053 A badge of fame to slander's livery; 1054 A dying life to living infamy: 1055 Poor helpless help, the treasure stol'n away, 1056 To burn the guiltless casket where it lay! 1057   'Well, well, dear Collatine, thou shalt not know 1058 The stained taste of violated troth; 1059 I will not wrong thy true affection so, 1060 To flatter thee with an infringed oath; 1061 This bastard graff shall never come to growth: 1062 He shall not boast who did thy stock pollute 1063 That thou art doting father of his fruit. 1064   'Nor shall he smile at thee in secret thought, 1065 Nor laugh with his companions at thy state: 1066 But thou shalt know thy interest was not bought 1067 Basely with gold, but stol'n from forth thy gate. 1068 For me, I am the mistress of my fate, 1069 And with my trespass never will dispense, 1070 Till life to death acquit my forced offence. 1071   'I will not poison thee with my attaint, 1072 Nor fold my fault in cleanly-coin'd excuses; 1073 My sable ground of sin I will not paint, 1074 To hide the truth of this false night's abuses: 1075 My tongue shall utter all; mine eyes, like sluices, 1076 As from a mountain-spring that feeds a dale, 1077 Shall gush pure streams to purge my impure tale.' 1078   By this, lamenting Philomel had ended 1079 The well-tuned warble of her nightly sorrow, 1080 And solemn night with slow sad gait descended 1081 To ugly hell; when, lo, the blushing morrow 1082 Lends light to all fair eyes that light will borrow: 1083 But cloudy Lucrece shames herself to see, 1084 And therefore still in night would cloister'd be. 1085   Revealing day through every cranny spies, 1086 And seems to point her out where she sits weeping; 1087 To whom she sobbing speaks: 'O eye of eyes, 1088 Why pry'st thou through my window? leave thy peeping: 1089 Mock with thy tickling beams eyes that are sleeping: 1090 Brand not my forehead with thy piercing light, 1091 For day hath nought to do what's done by night.' 1092   Thus cavils she with every thing she sees: 1093 True grief is fond and testy as a child, 1094 Who wayward once, his mood with nought agrees: 1095 Old woes, not infant sorrows, bear them mild; 1096 Continuance tames the one; the other wild, 1097 Like an unpractised swimmer plunging still, 1098 With too much labour drowns for want of skill. 1099   So she, deep-drenched in a sea of care, 1100 Holds disputation with each thing she views, 1101 And to herself all sorrow doth compare; 1102 No object but her passion's strength renews; 1103 And as one shifts, another straight ensues: 1104 Sometime her grief is dumb and hath no words; 1105 Sometime 'tis mad and too much talk affords. 1106   The little birds that tune their morning's joy 1107 Make her moans mad with their sweet melody: 1108 For mirth doth search the bottom of annoy; 1109 Sad souls are slain in merry company; 1110 Grief best is pleased with grief's society: 1111 True sorrow then is feelingly sufficed 1112 When with like semblance it is sympathized. 1113   'Tis double death to drown in ken of shore; 1114 He ten times pines that pines beholding food; 1115 To see the salve doth make the wound ache more; 1116 Great grief grieves most at that would do it good; 1117 Deep woes roll forward like a gentle flood, 1118 Who being stopp'd, the bounding banks o'erflows; 1119 Grief dallied with nor law nor limit knows. 1120   'You mocking-birds,' quoth she, 'your tunes entomb 1121 Within your hollow-swelling feather'd breasts, 1122 And in my hearing be you mute and dumb: 1123 My restless discord loves no stops nor rests; 1124 A woeful hostess brooks not merry guests: 1125 Relish your nimble notes to pleasing ears; 1126 Distress likes dumps when time is kept with tears. 1127   'Come, Philomel, that sing'st of ravishment, 1128 Make thy sad grove in my dishevell'd hair: 1129 As the dank earth weeps at thy languishment, 1130 So I at each sad strain will strain a tear, 1131 And with deep groans the diapason bear; 1132 For burden-wise I'll hum on Tarquin still, 1133 While thou on Tereus descant'st better skill. 1134   'And whiles against a thorn thou bear'st thy part, 1135 To keep thy sharp woes waking, wretched I, 1136 To imitate thee well, against my heart 1137 Will fix a sharp knife to affright mine eye; 1138 Who, if it wink, shall thereon fall and die. 1139 These means, as frets upon an instrument, 1140 Shall tune our heart-strings to true languishment. 1141   'And for, poor bird, thou sing'st not in the day, 1142 As shaming any eye should thee behold, 1143 Some dark deep desert, seated from the way, 1144 That knows not parching heat nor freezing cold, 1145 Will we find out; and there we will unfold 1146 To creatures stern sad tunes, to change their kinds: 1147 Since men prove beasts, let beasts bear gentle minds.' 1148   As the poor frighted deer, that stands at gaze, 1149 Wildly determining which way to fly, 1150 Or one encompass'd with a winding maze, 1151 That cannot tread the way out readily; 1152 So with herself is she in mutiny, 1153 To live or die which of the twain were better, 1154 When life is shamed, and death reproach's debtor. 1155   'To kill myself,' quoth she, 'alack, what were it, 1156 But with my body my poor soul's pollution? 1157 They that lose half with greater patience bear it 1158 Than they whose whole is swallow'd in confusion. 1159 That mother tries a merciless conclusion 1160 Who, having two sweet babes, when death takes one, 1161 Will slay the other and be nurse to none. 1162   'My body or my soul, which was the dearer, 1163 When the one pure, the other made divine? 1164 Whose love of either to myself was nearer, 1165 When both were kept for heaven and Collatine? 1166 Ay me! the bark peel'd from the lofty pine, 1167 His leaves will wither and his sap decay; 1168 So must my soul, her bark being peel'd away. 1169   'Her house is sack'd, her quiet interrupted, 1170 Her mansion batter'd by the enemy; 1171 Her sacred temple spotted, spoil'd, corrupted, 1172 Grossly engirt with daring infamy: 1173 Then let it not be call'd impiety, 1174 If in this blemish'd fort I make some hole 1175 Through which I may convey this troubled soul. 1176   'Yet die I will not till my Collatine 1177 Have heard the cause of my untimely death; 1178 That he may vow, in that sad hour of mine, 1179 Revenge on him that made me stop my breath. 1180 My stained blood to Tarquin I'll bequeath, 1181 Which by him tainted shall for him be spent, 1182 And as his due writ in my testament. 1183   'My honour I'll bequeath unto the knife 1184 That wounds my body so dishonoured. 1185 'Tis honour to deprive dishonour'd life; 1186 The one will live, the other being dead: 1187 So of shame's ashes shall my fame be bred; 1188 For in my death I murder shameful scorn: 1189 My shame so dead, mine honour is new-born. 1190   'Dear lord of that dear jewel I have lost, 1191 What legacy shall I bequeath to thee? 1192 My resolution, love, shall be thy boast, 1193 By whose example thou revenged mayest be. 1194 How Tarquin must be used, read it in me: 1195 Myself, thy friend, will kill myself, thy foe, 1196 And for my sake serve thou false Tarquin so. 1197   'This brief abridgement of my will I make: 1198 My soul and body to the skies and ground; 1199 My resolution, husband, do thou take; 1200 Mine honour be the knife's that makes my wound; 1201 My shame be his that did my fame confound; 1202 And all my fame that lives disbursed be 1203 To those that live, and think no shame of me. 1204   'Thou, Collatine, shalt oversee this will; 1205 How was I overseen that thou shalt see it! 1206 My blood shall wash the slander of mine ill; 1207 My life's foul deed, my life's fair end shall free it. 1208 Faint not, faint heart, but stoutly say 'So be it:' 1209 Yield to my hand; my hand shall conquer thee: 1210 Thou dead, both die, and both shall victors be.' 1211   This Plot of death when sadly she had laid, 1212 And wiped the brinish pearl from her bright eyes, 1213 With untuned tongue she hoarsely calls her maid, 1214 Whose swift obedience to her mistress hies; 1215 For fleet-wing'd duty with thought's feathers flies. 1216 Poor Lucrece' cheeks unto her maid seem so 1217 As winter meads when sun doth melt their snow. 1218   Her mistress she doth give demure good-morrow, 1219 With soft-slow tongue, true mark of modesty, 1220 And sorts a sad look to her lady's sorrow, 1221 For why her face wore sorrow's livery; 1222 But durst not ask of her audaciously 1223 Why her two suns were cloud-eclipsed so, 1224 Nor why her fair cheeks over-wash'd with woe. 1225   But as the earth doth weep, the sun being set, 1226 Each flower moisten'd like a melting eye; 1227 Even so the maid with swelling drops gan wet 1228 Her circled eyne, enforced by sympathy 1229 Of those fair suns set in her mistress' sky, 1230 Who in a salt-waved ocean quench their light, 1231 Which makes the maid weep like the dewy night. 1232   A pretty while these pretty creatures stand, 1233 Like ivory conduits coral cisterns filling: 1234 One justly weeps; the other takes in hand 1235 No cause, but company, of her drops spilling: 1236 Their gentle sex to weep are often willing; 1237 Grieving themselves to guess at others' smarts, 1238 And then they drown their eyes or break their hearts. 1239   For men have marble, women waxen, minds, 1240 And therefore are they form'd as marble will; 1241 The weak oppress'd, the impression of strange kinds 1242 Is form'd in them by force, by fraud, or skill: 1243 Then call them not the authors of their ill, 1244 No more than wax shall be accounted evil 1245 Wherein is stamp'd the semblance of a devil. 1246   Their smoothness, like a goodly champaign plain, 1247 Lays open all the little worms that creep; 1248 In men, as in a rough-grown grove, remain 1249 Cave-keeping evils that obscurely sleep: 1250 Through crystal walls each little mote will peep: 1251 Though men can cover crimes with bold stern looks, 1252 Poor women's faces are their own fault's books. 1253   No man inveigh against the wither'd flower, 1254 But chide rough winter that the flower hath kill'd: 1255 Not that devour'd, but that which doth devour, 1256 Is worthy blame. O, let it not be hild 1257 Poor women's faults, that they are so fulfill'd 1258 With men's abuses: those proud lords, to blame, 1259 Make weak-made women tenants to their shame. 1260   The precedent whereof in Lucrece view, 1261 Assail'd by night with circumstances strong 1262 Of present death, and shame that might ensue 1263 By that her death, to do her husband wrong: 1264 Such danger to resistance did belong, 1265 That dying fear through all her body spread; 1266 And who cannot abuse a body dead? 1267   By this, mild patience bid fair Lucrece speak 1268 To the poor counterfeit of her complaining: 1269 'My girl,' quoth she, 'on what occasion break 1270 Those tears from thee, that down thy cheeks are 1271 raining? 1272 If thou dost weep for grief of my sustaining, 1273 Know, gentle wench, it small avails my mood: 1274 If tears could help, mine own would do me good. 1275   'But tell me, girl, when went'--and there she stay'd 1276 Till after a deep groan--'Tarquin from hence?' 1277 'Madam, ere I was up,' replied the maid, 1278 'The more to blame my sluggard negligence: 1279 Yet with the fault I thus far can dispense; 1280 Myself was stirring ere the break of day, 1281 And, ere I rose, was Tarquin gone away. 1282   'But, lady, if your maid may be so bold, 1283 She would request to know your heaviness.' 1284 'O, peace!' quoth Lucrece: 'if it should be told, 1285 The repetition cannot make it less; 1286 For more it is than I can well express: 1287 And that deep torture may be call'd a hell 1288 When more is felt than one hath power to tell. 1289   'Go, get me hither paper, ink, and pen: 1290 Yet save that labour, for I have them here. 1291 What should I say? One of my husband's men 1292 Bid thou be ready, by and by, to bear 1293 A letter to my lord, my love, my dear; 1294 Bid him with speed prepare to carry it; 1295 The cause craves haste, and it will soon be writ.' 1296   Her maid is gone, and she prepares to write, 1297 First hovering o'er the paper with her quill: 1298 Conceit and grief an eager combat fight; 1299 What wit sets down is blotted straight with will; 1300 This is too curious-good, this blunt and ill: 1301 Much like a press of people at a door, 1302 Throng her inventions, which shall go before. 1303   At last she thus begins: 'Thou worthy lord 1304 Of that unworthy wife that greeteth thee, 1305 Health to thy person! next vouchsafe t' afford-- 1306 If ever, love, thy Lucrece thou wilt see-- 1307 Some present speed to come and visit me. 1308 So, I commend me from our house in grief: 1309 My woes are tedious, though my words are brief.' 1310   Here folds she up the tenor of her woe, 1311 Her certain sorrow writ uncertainly. 1312 By this short schedule Collatine may know 1313 Her grief, but not her grief's true quality: 1314 She dares not thereof make discovery, 1315 Lest he should hold it her own gross abuse, 1316 Ere she with blood had stain'd her stain'd excuse. 1317   Besides, the life and feeling of her passion 1318 She hoards, to spend when he is by to hear her: 1319 When sighs and groans and tears may grace the fashion 1320 Of her disgrace, the better so to clear her 1321 From that suspicion which the world might bear her. 1322 To shun this blot, she would not blot the letter 1323 With words, till action might become them better. 1324   To see sad sights moves more than hear them told; 1325 For then eye interprets to the ear 1326 The heavy motion that it doth behold, 1327 When every part a part of woe doth bear. 1328 'Tis but a part of sorrow that we hear: 1329 Deep sounds make lesser noise than shallow fords, 1330 And sorrow ebbs, being blown with wind of words. 1331   Her letter now is seal'd, and on it writ 1332 'At Ardea to my lord with more than haste.' 1333 The post attends, and she delivers it, 1334 Charging the sour-faced groom to hie as fast 1335 As lagging fowls before the northern blast: 1336 Speed more than speed but dull and slow she deems: 1337 Extremity still urgeth such extremes. 1338   The homely villain court'sies to her low; 1339 And, blushing on her, with a steadfast eye 1340 Receives the scroll without or yea or no, 1341 And forth with bashful innocence doth hie. 1342 But they whose guilt within their bosoms lie 1343 Imagine every eye beholds their blame; 1344 For Lucrece thought he blush'd to her see shame: 1345   When, silly groom! God wot, it was defect 1346 Of spirit, Life, and bold audacity. 1347 Such harmless creatures have a true respect 1348 To talk in deeds, while others saucily 1349 Promise more speed, but do it leisurely: 1350 Even so this pattern of the worn-out age 1351 Pawn'd honest looks, but laid no words to gage. 1352   His kindled duty kindled her mistrust, 1353 That two red fires in both their faces blazed; 1354 She thought he blush'd, as knowing Tarquin's lust, 1355 And, blushing with him, wistly on him gazed; 1356 Her earnest eye did make him more amazed: 1357 The more she saw the blood his cheeks replenish, 1358 The more she thought he spied in her some blemish. 1359   But long she thinks till he return again, 1360 And yet the duteous vassal scarce is gone. 1361 The weary time she cannot entertain, 1362 For now 'tis stale to sigh, to weep, and groan: 1363 So woe hath wearied woe, moan tired moan, 1364 That she her plaints a little while doth stay, 1365 Pausing for means to mourn some newer way. 1366   At last she calls to mind where hangs a piece 1367 Of skilful painting, made for Priam's Troy: 1368 Before the which is drawn the power of Greece. 1369 For Helen's rape the city to destroy, 1370 Threatening cloud-kissing Ilion with annoy; 1371 Which the conceited painter drew so proud, 1372 As heaven, it seem'd, to kiss the turrets bow'd. 1373   A thousand lamentable objects there, 1374 In scorn of nature, art gave lifeless life: 1375 Many a dry drop seem'd a weeping tear, 1376 Shed for the slaughter'd husband by the wife: 1377 The red blood reek'd, to show the painter's strife; 1378 And dying eyes gleam'd forth their ashy lights, 1379 Like dying coals burnt out in tedious nights. 1380   There might you see the labouring pioner 1381 Begrimed with sweat, and smeared all with dust; 1382 And from the towers of Troy there would appear 1383 The very eyes of men through loop-holes thrust, 1384 Gazing upon the Greeks with little lust: 1385 Such sweet observance in this work was had, 1386 That one might see those far-off eyes look sad. 1387   In great commanders grace and majesty 1388 You might behold, triumphing in their faces; 1389 In youth, quick bearing and dexterity; 1390 Pale cowards, marching on with trembling paces; 1391 Which heartless peasants did so well resemble, 1392 That one would swear he saw them quake and tremble. 1393   In Ajax and Ulysses, O, what art 1394 Of physiognomy might one behold! 1395 The face of either cipher'd either's heart; 1396 Their face their manners most expressly told: 1397 In Ajax' eyes blunt rage and rigor roll'd; 1398 But the mild glance that sly Ulysses lent 1399 Show'd deep regard and smiling government. 1400   There pleading might you see grave Nestor stand, 1401 As 'twere encouraging the Greeks to fight; 1402 Making such sober action with his hand, 1403 That it beguiled attention, charm'd the sight: 1404 In speech, it seem'd, his beard, all silver white, 1405 Wagg'd up and down, and from his lips did fly 1406 Thin winding breath, which purl'd up to the sky. 1407   About him were a press of gaping faces, 1408 Which seem'd to swallow up his sound advice; 1409 All jointly listening, but with several graces, 1410 As if some mermaid did their ears entice, 1411 Some high, some low, the painter was so nice; 1412 The scalps of many, almost hid behind, 1413 To jump up higher seem'd, to mock the mind. 1414   Here one man's hand lean'd on another's head, 1415 His nose being shadow'd by his neighbour's ear; 1416 Here one being throng'd bears back, all boll'n and 1417 red; 1418 Another smother'd seems to pelt and swear; 1419 And in their rage such signs of rage they bear, 1420 As, but for loss of Nestor's golden words, 1421 It seem'd they would debate with angry swords. 1422   For much imaginary work was there; 1423 Conceit deceitful, so compact, so kind, 1424 That for Achilles' image stood his spear, 1425 Griped in an armed hand; himself, behind, 1426 Was left unseen, save to the eye of mind: 1427 A hand, a foot, a face, a leg, a head, 1428 Stood for the whole to be imagined. 1429   And from the walls of strong-besieged Troy 1430 When their brave hope, bold Hector, march'd to 1431 field, 1432 Stood many Trojan mothers, sharing joy 1433 To see their youthful sons bright weapons wield; 1434 And to their hope they such odd action yield, 1435 That through their light joy seemed to appear, 1436 Like bright things stain'd, a kind of heavy fear. 1437   And from the strand of Dardan, where they fought, 1438 To Simois' reedy banks the red blood ran, 1439 Whose waves to imitate the battle sought 1440 With swelling ridges; and their ranks began 1441 To break upon the galled shore, and than 1442 Retire again, till, meeting greater ranks, 1443 They join and shoot their foam at Simois' banks. 1444   To this well-painted piece is Lucrece come, 1445 To find a face where all distress is stell'd. 1446 Many she sees where cares have carved some, 1447 But none where all distress and dolour dwell'd, 1448 Till she despairing Hecuba beheld, 1449 Staring on Priam's wounds with her old eyes, 1450 Which bleeding under Pyrrhus' proud foot lies. 1451   In her the painter had anatomized 1452 Time's ruin, beauty's wreck, and grim care's reign: 1453 Her cheeks with chaps and wrinkles were disguised; 1454 Of what she was no semblance did remain: 1455 Her blue blood changed to black in every vein, 1456 Wanting the spring that those shrunk pipes had fed, 1457 Show'd life imprison'd in a body dead. 1458   On this sad shadow Lucrece spends her eyes, 1459 And shapes her sorrow to the beldam's woes, 1460 Who nothing wants to answer her but cries, 1461 And bitter words to ban her cruel foes: 1462 The painter was no god to lend her those; 1463 And therefore Lucrece swears he did her wrong, 1464 To give her so much grief and not a tongue. 1465   'Poor instrument,' quoth she,'without a sound, 1466 I'll tune thy woes with my lamenting tongue; 1467 And drop sweet balm in Priam's painted wound, 1468 And rail on Pyrrhus that hath done him wrong; 1469 And with my tears quench Troy that burns so long; 1470 And with my knife scratch out the angry eyes 1471 Of all the Greeks that are thine enemies. 1472   'Show me the strumpet that began this stir, 1473 That with my nails her beauty I may tear. 1474 Thy heat of lust, fond Paris, did incur 1475 This load of wrath that burning Troy doth bear: 1476 Thy eye kindled the fire that burneth here; 1477 And here in Troy, for trespass of thine eye, 1478 The sire, the son, the dame, and daughter die. 1479   'Why should the private pleasure of some one 1480 Become the public plague of many moe? 1481 Let sin, alone committed, light alone 1482 Upon his head that hath transgressed so; 1483 Let guiltless souls be freed from guilty woe: 1484 For one's offence why should so many fall, 1485 To plague a private sin in general? 1486   'Lo, here weeps Hecuba, here Priam dies, 1487 Here manly Hector faints, here Troilus swounds, 1488 Here friend by friend in bloody channel lies, 1489 And friend to friend gives unadvised wounds, 1490 And one man's lust these many lives confounds: 1491 Had doting Priam cheque'd his son's desire, 1492 Troy had been bright with fame and not with fire.' 1493   Here feelingly she weeps Troy's painted woes: 1494 For sorrow, like a heavy-hanging bell, 1495 Once set on ringing, with his own weight goes; 1496 Then little strength rings out the doleful knell: 1497 So Lucrece, set a-work, sad tales doth tell 1498 To pencill'd pensiveness and colour'd sorrow; 1499 She lends them words, and she their looks doth borrow. 1500   She throws her eyes about the painting round, 1501 And whom she finds forlorn she doth lament. 1502 At last she sees a wretched image bound, 1503 That piteous looks to Phrygian shepherds lent: 1504 His face, though full of cares, yet show'd content; 1505 Onward to Troy with the blunt swains he goes, 1506 So mild, that Patience seem'd to scorn his woes. 1507   In him the painter labour'd with his skill 1508 To hide deceit, and give the harmless show 1509 An humble gait, calm looks, eyes wailing still, 1510 A brow unbent, that seem'd to welcome woe; 1511 Cheeks neither red nor pale, but mingled so 1512 That blushing red no guilty instance gave, 1513 Nor ashy pale the fear that false hearts have. 1514   But, like a constant and confirmed devil, 1515 He entertain'd a show so seeming just, 1516 And therein so ensconced his secret evil, 1517 That jealousy itself could not mistrust 1518 False-creeping craft and perjury should thrust 1519 Into so bright a day such black-faced storms, 1520 Or blot with hell-born sin such saint-like forms. 1521   The well-skill'd workman this mild image drew 1522 For perjured Sinon, whose enchanting story 1523 The credulous old Priam after slew; 1524 Whose words like wildfire burnt the shining glory 1525 Of rich-built Ilion, that the skies were sorry, 1526 And little stars shot from their fixed places, 1527 When their glass fell wherein they view'd their faces. 1528   This picture she advisedly perused, 1529 And chid the painter for his wondrous skill, 1530 Saying, some shape in Sinon's was abused; 1531 So fair a form lodged not a mind so ill: 1532 And still on him she gazed; and gazing still, 1533 Such signs of truth in his plain face she spied, 1534 That she concludes the picture was belied. 1535   'It cannot be,' quoth she,'that so much guile'-- 1536 She would have said 'can lurk in such a look;' 1537 But Tarquin's shape came in her mind the while, 1538 And from her tongue 'can lurk' from 'cannot' took: 1539 'It cannot be' she in that sense forsook, 1540 And turn'd it thus,' It cannot be, I find, 1541 But such a face should bear a wicked mind. 1542   'For even as subtle Sinon here is painted. 1543 So sober-sad, so weary, and so mild, 1544 As if with grief or travail he had fainted, 1545 To me came Tarquin armed; so beguiled 1546 With outward honesty, but yet defiled 1547 With inward vice: as Priam him did cherish, 1548 So did I Tarquin; so my Troy did perish. 1549   'Look, look, how listening Priam wets his eyes, 1550 To see those borrow'd tears that Sinon sheds! 1551 Priam, why art thou old and yet not wise? 1552 For every tear he falls a Trojan bleeds: 1553 His eye drops fire, no water thence proceeds; 1554 Those round clear pearls of his, that move thy pity, 1555 Are balls of quenchless fire to burn thy city. 1556   'Such devils steal effects from lightless hell; 1557 For Sinon in his fire doth quake with cold, 1558 And in that cold hot-burning fire doth dwell; 1559 These contraries such unity do hold, 1560 Only to flatter fools and make them bold: 1561 So Priam's trust false Sinon's tears doth flatter, 1562 That he finds means to burn his Troy with water.' 1563   Here, all enraged, such passion her assails, 1564 That patience is quite beaten from her breast. 1565 She tears the senseless Sinon with her nails, 1566 Comparing him to that unhappy guest 1567 Whose deed hath made herself herself detest: 1568 At last she smilingly with this gives o'er; 1569 'Fool, fool!' quoth she, 'his wounds will not be sore.' 1570   Thus ebbs and flows the current of her sorrow, 1571 And time doth weary time with her complaining. 1572 She looks for night, and then she longs for morrow, 1573 And both she thinks too long with her remaining: 1574 Short time seems long in sorrow's sharp sustaining: 1575 Though woe be heavy, yet it seldom sleeps, 1576 And they that watch see time how slow it creeps. 1577   Which all this time hath overslipp'd her thought, 1578 That she with painted images hath spent; 1579 Being from the feeling of her own grief brought 1580 By deep surmise of others' detriment; 1581 Losing her woes in shows of discontent. 1582 It easeth some, though none it ever cured, 1583 To think their dolour others have endured. 1584   But now the mindful messenger, come back, 1585 Brings home his lord and other company; 1586 Who finds his Lucrece clad in mourning black: 1587 And round about her tear-stained eye 1588 Blue circles stream'd; like rainbows in the sky: 1589 These water-galls in her dim element 1590 Foretell new storms to those already spent. 1591   Which when her sad-beholding husband saw, 1592 Amazedly in her sad face he stares: 1593 Her eyes, though sod in tears, look'd red and raw, 1594 Her lively colour kill'd with deadly cares. 1595 He hath no power to ask her how she fares: 1596 Both stood, like old acquaintance in a trance, 1597 Met far from home, wondering each other's chance. 1598   At last he takes her by the bloodless hand, 1599 And thus begins: 'What uncouth ill event 1600 Hath thee befall'n, that thou dost trembling stand? 1601 Sweet love, what spite hath thy fair colour spent? 1602 Why art thou thus attired in discontent? 1603 Unmask, dear dear, this moody heaviness, 1604 And tell thy grief, that we may give redress.' 1605   Three times with sighs she gives her sorrow fire, 1606 Ere once she can discharge one word of woe: 1607 At length address'd to answer his desire, 1608 She modestly prepares to let them know 1609 Her honour is ta'en prisoner by the foe; 1610 While Collatine and his consorted lords 1611 With sad attention long to hear her words. 1612   And now this pale swan in her watery nest 1613 Begins the sad dirge of her certain ending; 1614 'Few words,' quoth she, 'Shall fit the trespass best, 1615 Where no excuse can give the fault amending: 1616 In me moe woes than words are now depending; 1617 And my laments would be drawn out too long, 1618 To tell them all with one poor tired tongue. 1619   'Then be this all the task it hath to say 1620 Dear husband, in the interest of thy bed 1621 A stranger came, and on that pillow lay 1622 Where thou was wont to rest thy weary head; 1623 And what wrong else may be imagined 1624 By foul enforcement might be done to me, 1625 From that, alas, thy Lucrece is not free. 1626   'For in the dreadful dead of dark midnight, 1627 With shining falchion in my chamber came 1628 A creeping creature, with a flaming light, 1629 And softly cried 'Awake, thou Roman dame, 1630 And entertain my love; else lasting shame 1631 On thee and thine this night I will inflict, 1632 If thou my love's desire do contradict. 1633   ' 'For some hard-favour'd groom of thine,' quoth he, 1634 'Unless thou yoke thy liking to my will, 1635 I'll murder straight, and then I'll slaughter thee 1636 And swear I found you where you did fulfil 1637 The loathsome act of lust, and so did kill 1638 The lechers in their deed: this act will be 1639 My fame and thy perpetual infamy.' 1640   'With this, I did begin to start and cry; 1641 And then against my heart he sets his sword, 1642 Swearing, unless I took all patiently, 1643 I should not live to speak another word; 1644 So should my shame still rest upon record, 1645 And never be forgot in mighty Rome 1646 Th' adulterate death of Lucrece and her groom. 1647   'Mine enemy was strong, my poor self weak, 1648 And far the weaker with so strong a fear: 1649 My bloody judge forbade my tongue to speak; 1650 No rightful plea might plead for justice there: 1651 His scarlet lust came evidence to swear 1652 That my poor beauty had purloin'd his eyes; 1653 And when the judge is robb'd the prisoner dies. 1654   'O, teach me how to make mine own excuse! 1655 Or at the least this refuge let me find; 1656 Though my gross blood be stain'd with this abuse, 1657 Immaculate and spotless is my mind; 1658 That was not forced; that never was inclined 1659 To accessary yieldings, but still pure 1660 Doth in her poison'd closet yet endure.' 1661   Lo, here, the hopeless merchant of this loss, 1662 With head declined, and voice damm'd up with woe, 1663 With sad set eyes, and wretched arms across, 1664 From lips new-waxen pale begins to blow 1665 The grief away that stops his answer so: 1666 But, wretched as he is, he strives in vain; 1667 What he breathes out his breath drinks up again. 1668   As through an arch the violent roaring tide 1669 Outruns the eye that doth behold his haste, 1670 Yet in the eddy boundeth in his pride 1671 Back to the strait that forced him on so fast; 1672 In rage sent out, recall'd in rage, being past: 1673 Even so his sighs, his sorrows, make a saw, 1674 To push grief on, and back the same grief draw. 1675   Which speechless woe of his poor she attendeth, 1676 And his untimely frenzy thus awaketh: 1677 'Dear lord, thy sorrow to my sorrow lendeth 1678 Another power; no flood by raining slaketh. 1679 My woe too sensible thy passion maketh 1680 More feeling-painful: let it then suffice 1681 To drown one woe, one pair of weeping eyes. 1682   'And for my sake, when I might charm thee so, 1683 For she that was thy Lucrece, now attend me: 1684 Be suddenly revenged on my foe, 1685 Thine, mine, his own: suppose thou dost defend me 1686 From what is past: the help that thou shalt lend me 1687 Comes all too late, yet let the traitor die; 1688 For sparing justice feeds iniquity. 1689   'But ere I name him, you fair lords,' quoth she, 1690 Speaking to those that came with Collatine, 1691 'Shall plight your honourable faiths to me, 1692 With swift pursuit to venge this wrong of mine; 1693 For 'tis a meritorious fair design 1694 To chase injustice with revengeful arms: 1695 Knights, by their oaths, should right poor ladies' harms.' 1696   At this request, with noble disposition 1697 Each present lord began to promise aid, 1698 As bound in knighthood to her imposition, 1699 Longing to hear the hateful foe bewray'd. 1700 But she, that yet her sad task hath not said, 1701 The protestation stops. 'O, speak, ' quoth she, 1702 'How may this forced stain be wiped from me? 1703   'What is the quality of mine offence, 1704 Being constrain'd with dreadful circumstance? 1705 May my pure mind with the foul act dispense, 1706 My low-declined honour to advance? 1707 May any terms acquit me from this chance? 1708 The poison'd fountain clears itself again; 1709 And why not I from this compelled stain?' 1710   With this, they all at once began to say, 1711 Her body's stain her mind untainted clears; 1712 While with a joyless smile she turns away 1713 The face, that map which deep impression bears 1714 Of hard misfortune, carved in it with tears. 1715 'No, no,' quoth she, 'no dame, hereafter living, 1716 By my excuse shall claim excuse's giving.' 1717   Here with a sigh, as if her heart would break, 1718 She throws forth Tarquin's name; 'He, he,' she says, 1719 But more than 'he' her poor tongue could not speak; 1720 Till after many accents and delays, 1721 Untimely breathings, sick and short assays, 1722 She utters this, 'He, he, fair lords, 'tis he, 1723 That guides this hand to give this wound to me.' 1724   Even here she sheathed in her harmless breast 1725 A harmful knife, that thence her soul unsheathed: 1726 That blow did that it from the deep unrest 1727 Of that polluted prison where it breathed: 1728 Her contrite sighs unto the clouds bequeath'd 1729 Her winged sprite, and through her wounds doth fly 1730 Life's lasting date from cancell'd destiny. 1731   Stone-still, astonish'd with this deadly deed, 1732 Stood Collatine and all his lordly crew; 1733 Till Lucrece' father, that beholds her bleed, 1734 Himself on her self-slaughter'd body threw; 1735 And from the purple fountain Brutus drew 1736 The murderous knife, and, as it left the place, 1737 Her blood, in poor revenge, held it in chase; 1738   And bubbling from her breast, it doth divide 1739 In two slow rivers, that the crimson blood 1740 Circles her body in on every side, 1741 Who, like a late-sack'd island, vastly stood 1742 Bare and unpeopled in this fearful flood. 1743 Some of her blood still pure and red remain'd, 1744 And some look'd black, and that false Tarquin stain'd. 1745   About the mourning and congealed face 1746 Of that black blood a watery rigol goes, 1747 Which seems to weep upon the tainted place: 1748 And ever since, as pitying Lucrece' woes, 1749 Corrupted blood some watery token shows; 1750 And blood untainted still doth red abide, 1751 Blushing at that which is so putrified. 1752   'Daughter, dear daughter,' old Lucretius cries, 1753 'That life was mine which thou hast here deprived. 1754 If in the child the father's image lies, 1755 Where shall I live now Lucrece is unlived? 1756 Thou wast not to this end from me derived. 1757 If children predecease progenitors, 1758 We are their offspring, and they none of ours. 1759   'Poor broken glass, I often did behold 1760 In thy sweet semblance my old age new born; 1761 But now that fresh fair mirror, dim and old, 1762 Shows me a bare-boned death by time out-worn: 1763 O, from thy cheeks my image thou hast torn, 1764 And shivered all the beauty of my glass, 1765 That I no more can see what once I was! 1766   'O time, cease thou thy course and last no longer, 1767 If they surcease to be that should survive. 1768 Shall rotten death make conquest of the stronger 1769 And leave the faltering feeble souls alive? 1770 The old bees die, the young possess their hive: 1771 Then live, sweet Lucrece, live again and see 1772 Thy father die, and not thy father thee! 1773   By this, starts Collatine as from a dream, 1774 And bids Lucretius give his sorrow place; 1775 And then in key-cold Lucrece' bleeding stream 1776 He falls, and bathes the pale fear in his face, 1777 And counterfeits to die with her a space; 1778 Till manly shame bids him possess his breath 1779 And live to be revenged on her death. 1780   The deep vexation of his inward soul 1781 Hath served a dumb arrest upon his tongue; 1782 Who, mad that sorrow should his use control, 1783 Or keep him from heart-easing words so long, 1784 Begins to talk; but through his lips do throng 1785 Weak words, so thick come in his poor heart's aid, 1786 That no man could distinguish what he said. 1787   Yet sometime 'Tarquin' was pronounced plain, 1788 But through his teeth, as if the name he tore. 1789 This windy tempest, till it blow up rain, 1790 Held back his sorrow's tide, to make it more; 1791 At last it rains, and busy winds give o'er: 1792 Then son and father weep with equal strife 1793 Who should weep most, for daughter or for wife. 1794   The one doth call her his, the other his, 1795 Yet neither may possess the claim they lay. 1796 The father says 'She's mine.' 'O, mine she is,' 1797 Replies her husband: 'do not take away 1798 My sorrow's interest; let no mourner say 1799 He weeps for her, for she was only mine, 1800 And only must be wail'd by Collatine.' 1801   'O,' quoth Lucretius,' I did give that life 1802 Which she too early and too late hath spill'd.' 1803 'Woe, woe,' quoth Collatine, 'she was my wife, 1804 I owed her, and 'tis mine that she hath kill'd.' 1805 'My daughter' and 'my wife' with clamours fill'd 1806 The dispersed air, who, holding Lucrece' life, 1807 Answer'd their cries, 'my daughter' and 'my wife.' 1808   Brutus, who pluck'd the knife from Lucrece' side, 1809 Seeing such emulation in their woe, 1810 Began to clothe his wit in state and pride, 1811 Burying in Lucrece' wound his folly's show. 1812 He with the Romans was esteemed so 1813 As silly-jeering idiots are with kings, 1814 For sportive words and uttering foolish things: 1815   But now he throws that shallow habit by, 1816 Wherein deep policy did him disguise; 1817 And arm'd his long-hid wits advisedly, 1818 To cheque the tears in Collatinus' eyes. 1819 'Thou wronged lord of Rome,' quoth be, 'arise: 1820 Let my unsounded self, supposed a fool, 1821 Now set thy long-experienced wit to school. 1822   'Why, Collatine, is woe the cure for woe? 1823 Do wounds help wounds, or grief help grievous deeds? 1824 Is it revenge to give thyself a blow 1825 For his foul act by whom thy fair wife bleeds? 1826 Such childish humour from weak minds proceeds: 1827 Thy wretched wife mistook the matter so, 1828 To slay herself, that should have slain her foe. 1829   'Courageous Roman, do not steep thy heart 1830 In such relenting dew of lamentations; 1831 But kneel with me and help to bear thy part, 1832 To rouse our Roman gods with invocations, 1833 That they will suffer these abominations, 1834 Since Rome herself in them doth stand disgraced, 1835 By our strong arms from forth her fair streets chased. 1836   'Now, by the Capitol that we adore, 1837 And by this chaste blood so unjustly stain'd, 1838 By heaven's fair sun that breeds the fat earth's 1839 store, 1840 By all our country rights in Rome maintain'd, 1841 And by chaste Lucrece' soul that late complain'd 1842 Her wrongs to us, and by this bloody knife, 1843 We will revenge the death of this true wife.' 1844   This said, he struck his hand upon his breast, 1845 And kiss'd the fatal knife, to end his vow; 1846 And to his protestation urged the rest, 1847 Who, wondering at him, did his words allow: 1848 Then jointly to the ground their knees they bow; 1849 And that deep vow, which Brutus made before, 1850 He doth again repeat, and that they swore. 1851   When they had sworn to this advised doom, 1852 They did conclude to bear dead Lucrece thence; 1853 To show her bleeding body thorough Rome, 1854 And so to publish Tarquin's foul offence: 1855 Which being done with speedy diligence, 1856 The Romans plausibly did give consent 1857 To Tarquin's everlasting banishment. 1858

 
 

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