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
rightfull plea might plead for lustice there His scarlet Lust came euidence to sweare That my poore beautie had purloin'd his eyes And when the Iudge is rob'd the prisoner dies O teach me how to make mine owne excuse Or at the least this refuge let me finde Though my grosse bloud be staind with this abuse Immaculate and spotlesse is my mind That was not forc'd that neuer was inclind To accessarie yeeldings but still pure Doth in her poyson'd closet yet endure Lo heare the hopelesse Marchant of this losse VVith head declin'd and voice dam'd vp with wo VVith sad set eyes and wretched armes acrosse From lips new waxen pale begins to blow The griefe away that stops his answer so But wretched as he is he striues in vaine VVhat he breaths out his breath drinks vp again As through an Arch the violent roaring tide Outruns the eye that doth behold his hast Yet in the Edie boundeth in his pride Backe to the strait that forst him on so fast In rage sent out recald in rage being past Euen so his sighes his sorrowes make a saw To push griefe on and back the same grief draw VVhich speechlesse woe of his poore she attendeth And his vntimelie frenzie thus awaketh Deare Lord thy sorrow to my sorrow lendeth Another power no floud by raining slaketh My woe too sencible thy passion maketh More feeling painfull let it than suffice To drowne on woe one paire of weeping eyes And for my sake when I might charme thee so For shee that was thy LVCRECE now attend me Be sodainelie reuenged on my Foe Thine mine his own suppose thou dost defend me From what is past the helpe that thou shalt lend me Comes all too late yet let the Traytor die For sparing Iustice feeds iniquitie But ere I name him you faire Lords quoth shee Speaking to those that came with COLATINE Shall plight your Honourable faiths to me VVith swift pursuit to venge this wrong of mine For'tis a meritorious faire designe To chase iniustice with reuengefull armes Knights by their oaths should right poore Ladies harmes At this request with noble disposition Each present Lord began to promise aide As bound in Knighthood to her imposition Longing to heare the hatefull Foe bewraide But shee that yet her sad taske hath not said The protestation stops ô speake quoth shee How may this forced staine be wip'd from me VVhat is the qualitie of my offence Being constrayn'd with dreadfull circumstance May my pure mind with the fowle act dispence My low declined Honor to aduance May anie termes acquit me from this chance The poysoned fountaine cleares it selfe againe And why not I from this compelled staine VVith this they all at once began to saie Her bodies staine her mind vntainted cleares VVhile with a ioylesse smile shee turnes awaie The face that map which deepe impression beares Of hard misfortune caru'd it in with tears No no quoth shee no Dame hereafter liuing By my excuse shall claime excuses giuing Here with a sigh as if her heart would breake Shee throwes forth TARQVINS name he he she saies But more then he her poore tong could not speake Till after manie accents and delaies Vntimelie breathings sicke and short assaies Shee vtters this he he faire Lords t is he That guides this hand to giue this wound to me Euen here she sheathed in her harmlesse breast A harmfull knife that thence her soule vnsheathed That blow did baile it from the deepe vnrest Of that polluted prison where it breathed Her contrite sighes vnto the clouds bequeathed Her winged sprite through her woūds doth flie Liues lasting date from cancel'd destinie Stone still astonisht with this deadlie deed Stood COLATINE and all his Lordly crew Till LVCRECE Father that beholds her bleed Himselfe on her selfe-slaughtred bodie threw And from the purple fountaine BRVTVS drew The murdrous knife and as it left the place Her bloud in poore reuenge held it in chase And bubling from her brest it doth deuide In two slow riuers that the crimson bloud Circles her bodie in on euerie side VVho like a late sack't Iland vastlie stood Bare and vnpeopled in this fearfull flood Some of her bloud still pure and red remain'd And som look'd black that false TARQVIN stain'd About the mourning and congealed face Of that blacke bloud a watrie rigoll goes VVhich seemes to weep vpon the tainted place And euer since as pittying LVCRECE woes Corrupted bloud some waterie token showes And bloud vntainted still doth red abide Blushing at that which is so putrified Daughter deare daughter old LVCRETIVS cries That life was mine which thou hast here depriued If in the childe the fathers image lies VVhere shall I liue now LVCRECE is vnliued Thou wast not to this end from me deriued If children praedecease progenitours VVe are their ofspring and they none of ours Poore broken glasse I often did behold In thy sweet semblance my old age new borne But now that faire fresh mirror dim and old Shewes me a bare bon'd death by time out-worne O from thy cheekes my image thou hast torne And shiuerd all the beautie of my glasse That I no more can see what once I was O time cease thou thy course and last no longer If they surcease to be that should suruiue Shall rotten death make conquest of the stronger And leaue the foultring feeble soules aliue The old Bees die the young possesse their hiue Then liue sweet LVCRECE liue againe and see Thy father die and not thy father thee By this starts COLATINE as from a dreame And bids LVCRECIVS giue his sorrow place And than in key-cold LVCRECE bleeding streame He fals and bathes the pale feare in his face And counterfaits to die with her a space Till manly shame bids him possesse his breath And liue to be reuenged on her death The deepe vexation of his inward soule Hath seru'd a dumbe arrest vpon his tongue VVho mad that sorrow should his vse controll Or keepe him from heart-easing words so long Begins to talke but through his lips do throng VVeake words so thick come in his poor harts aid That no man could distinguish what he said Yet sometime TARQVIN was pronounced plaine But through his teeth as if the name he tore This windie tempest till it blow vp raine Held backe his sorrowes tide to make it more At last it raines and busie windes giue ore Then sonne and father weep with equall strife VVho shuld weep most for daughter or for wife The one doth call her his the other his Yet neither may possesse the claime they lay The father saies shee 's mine ô mine shee is Replies her husband do not take away My sorrowes interest let no mourner say He weepes for her for shee was onely mine And onelie must be wayl'd by COLATINE O quoth LVCRETIVS I did giue that life VVhich shee to earely and too late hath spil'd VVoe woe quoth COLATINE shee was my wife I owed her and t is mine that shee hath kil'd My daughter and my wife with clamors fild The disperst aire who holding LVCRECE life Answer'd their cries my daughter and my wife BRVTVS who pluck't the knife from LVCRECE side Seeing such emulation in their woe Began to cloath his wit in state and pride Burying in LVCRECE wound his follies show He with the Romains was esteemed so As seelie ieering idiots are with Kings For sportiue words and vttring foolish things But now he throwes that shallow habit by VVherein deepe pollicie did him disguise And arm'd his long hid wits aduise dlie To checke the teares in COLATINVS eies Thou wronged Lord of Rome quoth he arise Let my vnsounded selfe suppos'd a foole Now set thy long experienc't wit to schoole VVhy COLATINE is woe the cure for woe Do wounds helpe wounds or griefe helpe greeuous deeds Is it reuenge to giue thy selfe a blow For his fowle Act by whom thy faire wife bleeds Such childish humor from weake minds proceeds Thy wretched wife mistooke the matter so To slaie her selfe that should haue slaine her Foe Couragious Romaine do not steepe thy hart In such relenting dew of Lamentations But kneele with me and helpe to beare thy part To rowse our Romaine Gods with inuocations That they will suffer these abhominations Since Rome her self in thē doth stand disgraced By our strong arms frō forth her fair streets chaced Now by the Capitoll that we adore And by this chast bloud so vniustlie stained By heauens faire sun that breeds the fat earths store By all our countrey rights in Rome maintained And by chast LVCRECE soule that late complained Her wrongs to vs and by this bloudie knife VVe will reuenge the death of this true wife This sayd he strooke his hand vpon his breast And kist the fatall knife to end his vow And to his protestation vrg'd the rest VVho wondring at him did his words allow Then ioyntlie to the ground their knees they bow And that deepe vow which BRVTVS made before He doth againe repeat and that they swore VVhen they had sworne to this aduised doome They did conclude to beare dead LVCRECE thence To shew her bleeding bodie thorough Roome And so to publish TARQVINS fowle offence VVhich being done with speedie diligence The Romaines plausibly did giue consent To TARQVINS euerlasting banishment FINIS
So of shames ashes shall my Fame be bred For in my death I murther shamefull scorne My shame so dead mine honor is new borne Deare Lord of that deare iewell I haue lost VVhat legacie shall I bequeath to thee My resolution loue shall be thy bost By whose example thou reueng'd mayst be How TARQVIN must be vs'd read it in me My selfe thy friend will kill my selfe thy fo And for my sake serue thou false TARQVIN so This briefe abridgement of my will I make My soule and bodie to the skies and ground My resolution Husband doe thou take Mine Honor be the knifes that makes my wound My shame be his that did my Fame confound And all my Fame that liues disbursed be To those that liue and thinke no shame of me Thou COLATINE shalt ouersee this will How was I ouerseene that thou shalt see it My bloud shall wash the sclander of mine ill My liues foule deed my lifes faire end shall free it Faint not faint heart but stoutlie say so be it Yeeld to my hand my hand shall conquer thee Thou dead both die and both shall victors be This plot of death when sadlie shee had layd And wip't the brinish pearle from her bright eies VVith vntun'd tongue shee hoarslie cals her mayd VVhose swift obedience to her mistresse hies For fleet-wing'd duetie with thoghts feathers flies Poore LVCRECE cheeks vnto her maid seem so As winter meads when sun doth melt their snow Her mistresse shee doth giue demure good morrow VVith soft slow-tongue true marke of modestie And sorts a sad looke to her Ladies sorrow For why her face wore sorrowes liuerie But durst not aske of her audaciouslie VVhy her two suns were clowd ecclipsed so Nor why her faire cheeks ouer-washt with woe But as the earth doth weepe the Sun being set Each flowre moistned like a melting eye Euen so the maid with swelling drops gan wet Her circled eien inforst by simpathie Of those faire Suns set in her mistresse skie VVho in a salt wau'd Ocean quench their light VVhich makes the maid weep like the dewy night A prettie while these prettie creatures stand Like Iuorie conduits corall cesterns filling One iustlie weepes the other takes in hand No cause but companie of her drops spilling Their gentle sex to weepe are often willing Greeuing themselues to gesse at others smarts And theÌ„ they drown their eies or break their harts For men haue marble women waxen mindes And therefore are they form'd as marble will The weake opprest th' impression of strange kindes Is form'd in them by force by fraud or skill Then call them not the Authors of their ill No more then waxe shall be accounted euill VVherein is stampt the semblance of a Deuill Their smoothnesse like a goodly champaine plaine Laies open all the little wormes that creepe In men as in a rough-growne groue remaine Caue-keeping euils that obscurely sleepe Through christall wals ech little mote will peepe Though meÌ„ caÌ„ couer crimes with bold stern looks Poore womens faces are their owne faults books No man inueigh against the withered flowre But chide rough winter that the flowre hath kild Not that deuour'd but that which doth deuour Is worthie blame ô let it not be hild Poore womens faults that they are so fulfild VVith mens abuses those proud Lords to blame Make weak-made womeÌ„ tenants to their shame The president whereof in LVCRECE view Assail'd by night with circumstances strong Of present death and shame that might insue By that her death to do her husband wrong Such danger to resistance did belong That dying feare through all her bodie spred And who cannot abuse a bodie dead By this milde patience bid faire LVCRECE speake To the poore counterfaite of her complayning My girle quoth shee on what occasion breake Those tears froÌ„ thee that downe thy cheeks are raigning If thou dost weepe for griefe of my sustaining Know gentle wench it small auailes my mood If tears could help mine own would do me good But tell me girle when went and there shee staide Till after a deepe grone TARQVIN from hence Madame ere I was vp repli'd the maide The more to blame my sluggard negligence Yet with the fault I thus farre can dispence My selfe was stirring ere the breake of day And ere I rose was TARQVIN gone away But Lady if your maide may be so bold Shee would request to know your heauinesse O peace quoth LVCRECE if it should be told The repetition cannot make it lesse For more it is then I can well expresse And that deepe torture may be cal'd a Hell VVhen more is felt then one hath power to tell Go get mee hither paper inke and pen Yet saue that labour for I haue them heare VVhat should I say one of my husbands men Bid thou be readie by and by to beare A letter to my Lord my Loue my Deare Bid him with speede prepare to carrie it The â—ause craues hast and it will soone be writ Her maide is gone and shee prepares to write First houering ore the paper with her quill Conceipt and griefe an eager combat fight VVhat wit sets downe is blotted straight with will This is too curious good this blunt and ill Much like a presse of people at a dore Throng her inuentions which shall go before At last shee thus begins thou worthie Lord Of that vnworthie wife that greeteth thee Health to thy person next vouchsafe t' afford If euer loue thy LVCRECE thou wilt see Some present speed to come and visite me So I commend me from our house in griefe My woes are tedious though my words are briefe Here folds shee vp the tenure of her woe Her certaine sorrow writ vncertainely By this short Cedule COLATINE may know Her griefe but not her griefes true quality Shee dares not there of make discouery Lest he should hold it her own grosse abuse Ere she with bloud had stain'd her stain'd excuse Besides the life and feeling of her passion Shee hoords to spend when he is by to heare her VVhen sighs grones tears may grace the fashioÌ„ Of her disgrace the better so to cleare her From that suspicioÌ„ which the world might bear her To shun this blot shee would not blot the letter VVith words till action might becom theÌ„ better To see sad sights moues more then heare them told For then the eye interpretes to the eare The heauie motion that it doth behold VVhen euerie part a part of woe doth beare T is but a part of sorrow that we heare Deep sounds make lesser noise theÌ„ shallow foords And sorrow ebs being blown with wind of words Her letter now is seal'd and on it writ At ARDEA to my Lord with more then hast The Post attends and shee deliuers it Charging the sowr-fac'd groome to high as fast As lagging fowles before the Northerne blast Speed more then speed but dul slow she deems Extremity still vrgeth such extremes The homelie villaine cursies to her low