inward ill no outward harme exprest For that he colourd with his high estate Hiding base sin in pleats of Maiestie That nothing in him seemd inordinate Saue sometime too much wonder of his eye VVhich hauing all all could not satisfie But poorly rich so wanteth in his store That cloy'd with much he pineth still for more But she that neuer cop't with straunger eies Could picke no meaning from their parling lookes Nor read the subtle shining secrecies VVrit in the glassie margents of such bookes Shee toucht no vnknown baits nor feard no hooks Nor could shee moralize his wanton sight More then his eies were opend to the light He stories to her eares her husbands fame VVonne in the fields of fruitfull Italie And decks with praises Colatines high name Made glorious by his manlie chiualrie VVith bruised armes and wreathes of victorie Her ioie with heaued-vp hand she doth expresse And wordlesse so greetes heauen for his successe Far from the purpose of his comming thither He makes excuses for his being there No clowdie show of stormie blustring wether Doth yet in his faire welkin once appeare Till sable Night mother of dread and feare Vppon the world dim darknesse doth displaie And in her vaultie prison stowes the daie For then is Tarquine brought vnto his bed Intending wearinesse with heauie sprite For after supper long he questioned VVith modest Lucrece and wore out the night Now leaden slumber with liues strength doth fight And euerie one to rest themselues betake Saue theeues and cares and troubled minds that wake As one of which doth Tarquin lie reuoluing The sundrie dangers of his wils obtaining Yet euer to obtaine his will resoluing Though weake-built hopes perswade him to abstaining Dispaire to gaine doth traffique oft for gaining And when great treasure is the meede proposed Though death be adiūct ther 's no death supposed Those that much couet are with gaine so fond That what they haue not that which they possesse They scatter and vnloose it from their bond And so by hoping more they haue but lesse Or gaining more the profite of excesse Is but to surfet and such griefes sustaine That they proue bāckrout in this poore rich gain The ayme of all is but to nourse the life VVith honor wealth and ease in wainyng age And in this ayme there is such thwarting strife That one for all or all for one we gage As life for honour in fell battailes rage Honor for wealth and oft that wealth doth cost The death of all and altogether lost So that in ventring ill we leaue to be The things we are for that which we expect And this ambitious foule infirmitie In hauing much torments vs with defect Of that we haue so then we doe neglect The thing we haue and all for want of wit Make something nothing by augmenting it Such hazard now must doting TARQVIN make Pawning his honor to obtaine his lust And for himselfe himselfe he must forsake Then where is truth if there be no selfe-trust VVhen shall he thinke to find a stranger iust VVhen he himselfe himselfe confounds betraies To sclandrous tongues wretched hateful daies Now stole vppon the time the dead of night VVhen heauie sleeep had closd vp mortall eyes No comfortable starre did lend his light No noise but Owles wolues death-boding cries Now serues the season that they may surprise The sillie Lambes pure thoughts are dead still VVhile Lust and Murder wakes to staine and kill And now this lustfull Lord leapt from his bed Throwing his mantle rudely ore his arme Is madly tost betweene desire and dred Th' one sweetely flatters th' other feareth harme But honest feare bewicht with lustes foule charme Doth too too oft betake him to retire Beaten away by brainesicke rude desire His Faulchon on a flint he softly smiteth That from the could stone sparkes of fire doe flie VVhereat a waxen torch forthwith he lighteth VVhich must be lodestarre to his lustfull eye And to the flame thus speakes aduisedlie As from this cold flint I enforst this fire So LVCRECE must I force to my desire Here pale with feare he doth premeditate The daungers of his lothsome enterprise And in his inward mind he doth debate VVhat following sorrow may on this arise Then looking scornfully he doth despise His naked armour of still slaughtered lust And iustly thus controlls his thoughts vniust Faire torch burne out thy light and lend it not To darken her whose light excelleth thine And die vnhallowed thoughts before you blot VVith your vncleannesse that which is deuine Offer pure incense to so pure a shrine Let faire humanitie abhor the deede That spots stains loues modest snow-white weed O shame to knighthood and to shining Armes O foule dishonor to my houshoulds graue O impious act including all foule harmes A martiall man to be soft fancies slaue True valour still a true respect should haue Then my digression is so vile so base That it will liue engrauen in my face Yea though I die the scandale will suruiue And be an eie-sore in my golden coate Some lothsome dash the Herrald will contriue To cipher me how fondlie I did dote That my posteritie sham'd with the note Shall curse my bones and hold it for no sinne To wish that I their father had not beene VVhat win I if I gaine the thing I seeke A dreame a breath a froth of fleeting ioy VVho buies a minutes mirth to waile a weeke Or sels eternitie to get a toy For one sweete grape who will the vine destroy Or what fond begger but to touch the crowne VVould with the scepter straight be strokē down If COLATINVS dreame of my intent VVill he not wake and in a desp'rate rage Post hither this vile purpose to preuent This siege that hath ingirt his marriage This blur to youth this sorrow to the sage This dying vertue this suruiuing shame VVhose crime will beare an euer-during blame O what excuse can my inuention make VVhen thou shalt charge me with so blacke a deed VVil not my tongue be mute my fraile ioints shake Mine eies forgo their light my false hart bleede The guilt beeing great the feare doth still exceede And extreme feare can neither fight nor flie But cowardlike with trembling terror die Had COLATINVS kild my sonne or sire Or laine in ambush to betray my life Or were he not my deare friend this desire Might haue excuse to worke vppon his wife As in reuenge or quittall of such strife But as he is my kinsman my deare friend The shame and fault finds no excuse nor end Shamefull it is I if the fact be knowne Hatefull it is there is no hate in louing He beg her loue but she is not her owne The worst is but deniall and reproouing My will is strong past reasons weake remoouing VVho feares a sentence or an old mans saw Shall by a painted cloth be kept in awe Thus gracelesse holds he disputation Tweene frozen conscience and hot burning
will And with good thoughts makes dispensation Vrging the worser sence for vantage still VVhich in a moment doth confound and kill All pure effects and doth so farre proceede That what is vile shewes like a vertuous deede Quoth he shee tooke me kindlie by the hand And gaz'd for tidings in my eager eyes Fearing some hard newes from the warlike band VVhere her beloued COLATINVS lies O how her feare did make her colour rise First red as Roses that on Lawne we laie Then white as Lawne the Roses tooke awaie And how her hand in my hand being lockt Forst it to tremble with her loyall feare VVhich strooke her sad and then it faster rockt Vntill her husbands welfare shee did heare VVhereat shee smiled with so sweete a cheare That had NARCISSVS seene her as shee stood Selfe-loue had neuer drown'd him in the flood VVhy hunt I then for colour or excuses All Orators are dumbe when Beautie pleadeth Poore wretches haue remorse in poore abuses Loue thriues not in the hart that shadows dreadeth Affection is my Captaine and he leadeth And when his gaudie banner is displaide The coward fights and will not be dismaide Then childish feare auaunt debating die Respect and reason waite on wrinckled age My heart shall neuer countermand mine eie Sad pause and deepe regard beseemes the sage My part is youth and beates these from the stage Desire my Pilot is Beautie my prise Then who feares sinking where such treasure lies As corne ore-growne by weedes so heedfull feare Is almost choakt by vnresisted lust Away he steales with open listning eare Full of foule hope and full of fond mistrust Both which as seruitors to the vniust So crosse him with their opposit perswasion That now he vowes a league and now inuasion VVithin his thought her heauenly image sits And in the selfe same seat sits COLATINE That eye which lookes on her confounds his wits That eye which him beholdes as more deuine Vnto a view so false will not incline But with a pure appeale seekes to the heart VVhich once corrupted takes the worser part And therein heartens vp his seruile powers VVho flattred by their leaders iocound show Stuffe vp his lust as minutes fill vp howres And as their Captaine so their pride doth grow Paying more slauish tribute then they owe. By reprobate desire thus madly led The Romane Lord marcheth to LVCRECE bed The lockes betweene her chamber and his will Ech one by him inforst retires his ward But as they open they all rate his ill VVhich driues the creeping theefe to some regard The threshold grates the doore to haue him heard Night wandring weezels shreek to see him there They fright him yet he still pursues his feare As each vnwilling portall yeelds him way Through little vents and cranies of the place The wind warres with his torch to make him staie And blowes the smoake of it into his face Extinguishing his conduct in this case But his hot heart which fond desire doth scorch Puffes forth another wind that fires the torch And being lighted by the light he spies LVCRECIAS gloue wherein her needle sticks He takes it from the rushes where it lies And griping it the needle his finger pricks As who should say this gloue to wanton trickes Is not inur'd returne againe in hast Thouseest our mistresse ornaments are chast But all these poore forbiddings could not stay him He in the worst sence consters their deniall The dores the wind the gloue that did delay him He takes for accidentall things of triall Or as those bars which stop the hourely diall VVho with a lingring staie his course doth let Till euerie minute payes the howre his debt So so quoth he these lets attend the time Like little frosts that sometime threat the spring To ad a more reioysing to the prime And giue the sneaped birds more cause to sing Pain payes the income of ech precious thing Huge rocks high winds strong pirats shelues and sands The marchant feares ere rich at home he lands Now is he come vnto the chamber dore That shuts him from the Heauen of his thought VVhich with a yeelding latch and with no more Hath bard him from the blessed thing he sought So from himselfe impiety hath wrought That for his pray to pray he doth begin As if the Heauens should countenance his sin But in the midst of his vnfruitfull prayer Hauing solicited th' eternall power That his foule thoughts might cōpasse his fair faire And they would stand auspicious to the howre Euen there he starts quoth he I must deflowre The powers to whom I pray abhor this fact How can they then assist me in the act Then Loue and Fortune by my Gods my guide My will is backt with resolution Thoughts are but dreames till their effects be tried The blackest sinne is clear'd with absolution Against loues fire feares frost hath dissolution The eye of Heauen is out and mistie night Couers the shame that followes sweet delight This said his guiltie hand pluckt vp the latch And with his knee the dore he opens wide The doue sleeps fast that this night Owle will catch Thus treason workes ere traitors be espied VVho sees the lurking serpent steppes aside But shee sound sleeping fearing no such thing Lies at the mercie of his mortall sting Into the chamber wickedlie he stalkes And gazeth on her yet vnstained bed The curtaines being close about he walkes Rowling his greedie eye-bals in his head By their high treason is his heart mis-led VVhich giues the watch-word to his hand ful soon To draw the clowd that hides the siluer Moon Looke as the faire and fierie pointed Sunne Rushing from forth a cloud bereaues our sight Euen so the Curtaine drawne his eyes begun To winke being blinded with a greater light VVhether it is that shee reflects so bright That dazleth them or else some shame supposed But blind they are and keep themselues inclosed O had they in that darkesome prison died Then had they seene the period of their ill Then COLATINE againe by LVCRECE side In his cleare bed might haue reposed still But they must ope this blessed league to kill And holie-thoughted LVCRECE to their sight Must sell her ioy her life her worlds delight Her lillie hand her rosie cheeke lies vnder Coosning the pillow of a lawfull kisse VVho therefore angrie seemes to part in sunder Swelling on either side to want his blisse Betweene whose hils her head intombed is VVhere like a vertuous Monument shee lies To be admir'd of lewd vnhallowed eyes VVithout the bed her other faire hand was On the greene couerlet whose perfect white Showed like an Aprill dazie on the grasse VVith perlie swet resembling dew of night Her eyes like Marigolds had sheath'd their light And canopied in darkenesse sweetly lay Till they might open to adorne the day Her haire like goldē threeds playd with her breath O modest wantons wanton modestie Showing lifes triumph in the map of death And deaths dim looke
not defend thy loyall Dame And wast affeard to scratch her wicked Fo Kill both thy selfe and her for yeelding so This said from her betombled couch shee starteth To finde some desp'rat Instrument of death But this no slaughter house no toole imparteth To make more vent for passage of her breath VVhich thronging through her lips so vanisheth As smoake from AETNA that in aire consumes Or that which from discharged Cannon fumes In vaine quoth shee I liue and seeke in vaine Some happie meane to end a haplesse life I fear'd by TARQVINS Fauchion to be slaine Yet for the selfe same purpose seeke a knife But when I fear'd I was a loyall wife So am I now ô no that cannot be Of that true tipe hath TARQVIN rifled me O that is gone for which I sought to liue And therefore now I need not feare to die To cleare this spot by death at least I giue A badge of Fame to sclanders liuerie A dying life to liuing infamie Poore helplesse helpe the treasure stolne away To burne the guiltlesse casket where it lay VVell well deare COLATINE thou shalt not know The stained tast of violated troth I will not wrong thy true affection so To flatter thee with an infringed oath This bastard graffe shall neuer come to growth He shall not boast who did thy stocke pollute That thou art doting father of his fruite Nor shall he smile at thee in secret thought Nor laugh with his companions at thy state But thou shalt know thy intrest was not bought Basely with gold but stolne from foorth thy gate For me I am the mistresse of my fate And with my trespasse neuer will dispence Till life to death acquit my forst offence I will not poyson thee with my attaint Nor fold my fault in cleanly coin'd excuses My sable ground of sinne I will not paint To hide the truth of this false nights abuses My tongue shall vtter all mine eyes like sluces As from a mountaine spring that feeds a dale Shal gush pure streams to purge my impure tale By this lamenting Philomele had ended The well-tun'd warble of her nightly sorrow And solemne night with slow sad gate descended To ouglie Hell when loe the blushing morrow Lends light to all faire eyes that light will borrow But cloudie LVCRECE shames her selfe to see And therefore still in night would cloistred be Reuealing day through euery crannie spies And seems to point her out where she sits weeping To whom shee sobbing speakes ô eye of eyes VVhy pry'st thou throgh my window leaue thy peeping Mock with thy tickling beams eies that are sleeping Brand not my forehead with thy percing light For day hath nought to do what 's done by night Thus cauils shee with euerie thing shee sees True griefe is fond and testie as a childe VVho wayward once his mood with naught agrees Old woes not infant sorrowes beare them milde Continuance tames the one the other wilde Like an vnpractiz'd swimmer plunging still VVith too much labour drowns for want of skill So shee deepe drenched in a Sea of care Holds disputation with ech thing shee vewes And to her selfe all sorrow doth compare No obiect but her passions strength renewes And as one shiftes another straight insewes Somtime her griefe is dumbe and hath no words Sometime t is mad and too much talke affords The little birds that tune their mornings ioy Make her mones mad with their sweet melodie For mirth doth search the bottome of annoy Sad soules are slaine in merrie companie Griefe best is pleas'd with griefes societie True sorrow then is feelinglie suffiz'd VVhen with like semblance it is simpathiz'd T is double death to drowne in ken ofshore He ten times pines that pines beholding food To see the salue doth make the wound ake more Great griefe greeues most at that wold do it good Deepe woes rowle forward like a gentle flood VVho being stopt the boūding banks oreflowes Griefe dallied with nor law nor limit knowes You mocking Birds quoth she your tunes intombe VVithin your hollow swelling feathered breasts And in my hearing be you mute and dumbe My restlesse discord loues no stops nor rests A woefull Hostesse brookes not merrie guests Ralish your nimble notes to pleasing eares Distres likes dūps whē time is kept with teares Come Philomele that sing'st of rauishment Make thy sad groue in my disheueld heare As the danke earth weepes at thy languishment So I at each sad straine will straine a teare And with deepe grones the Diapason beare For burthen-wise I le hum on TARQVIN still VVhile thou on TEREVS descants better skill And whiles against a thorne thou bear'st thy part To keepe thy sharpe woes waking wretched I To imitate thee well against my heart VVill fixe a sharpe knife to affright mine eye VVho if it winke shall thereon fall and die These meanes as frets vpon an instrument Shal tune our heart-strings to true languishment And for poore bird thou sing'st not in the day As shaming anie eye should thee behold Some darke deepe desert seated from the way That knowes not parching heat nor freezing cold VVill wee find out and there we will vnfold To creatures stern sad tunes to change their kinds Since mē proue beasts let beasts bear gētle minds As the poore frighted Deare that stands at gaze VVildly determining which way to flie Or one incompast with a winding maze That cannot tread the way out readilie So with her selfe is shee in mutinie To liue or die which of the twaine were better VVhen life is sham'd and death reproches detter To kill my selfe quoth shee alacke what were it But with my body my poore soules pollusion They that loose halfe with greater patience beare it Then they whose whole is swallowed in confusion That mother tries a mercilesse conclusion VVho hauing two sweet babes when death takes one VVill stay the other and be nurse to none My bodie or my soule which was the dearer VVhen the one pure the other made deuine VVhose loue of eyther to my selfe was nearer VVhen both were kept for Heauen and COLATINE Ay me the Barke pild from the loftie Pine His leaues will wither and his sap decay So must my soule her barke being pild away Her house is sackt her quiet interrupted Her mansion batterd by the enemie Her sacred temple spotted spoild corrupted Groslie ingirt with daring infamie Then let it not be cald impietie If in this blemisht for t I make some hole Through which I may conuay this troubled soule Yet die I will not till my COLATINE Haue heard the cause of my vntimelie death That he may vow in that sad houre of mine Reuenge on him that made me stop my breath My stained bloud to TARQVIN I le bequeath VVhich by him tainted shall for him be spent And as his due writ in my testament My Honorile bequeath vnto the knife That wounds my bodie so dishonored T is Honor to depriue dishonord life The one will liue the other being dead