Coosening the pillow of a lawfull kisse Who therefore angry seems to part in sunder Swelling on either side to want his blisse Between whose hils her head intombed is Where like a vertuous monument she lies To be admir'd of lewde vnhallowed eies Without the bed hir other faire hand was On the greene couerlet whose perfect white Showed like an Aprill dazie on the grasse With pearly swet resembling dewe of night Her eyes like Marigolds had sheathd their light And canopied in darknesse sweetly lay Till they might open to adorne the day Her haire like golden threeds plaid with her breath O modest wantons wanton modesty Showring lifes triumph in the map of death And deaths dim looke in lifes mortality Each in her sleepe themselues so beautifie As if between them twaine there were no strife But that life liu'd in death and death in life Her breasts like iuory globes cirdled with blew A paire of maiden worlds vnconquered Saue of their Lord no bearing yoke they knew And him by oath they truly honoured These worlds in Tarquin new ambition bred Who like a foule vsurper went about From this faire throne to heaue the owner out What could he see but mightely he noted What did he note but strongly he desired What he beheld on that he firmly doted And in his will his wilfull eye he tired With more then admiration he admired Her azure vaines her alablaster skinne Her corall lips her snow white dimpled chin As the grim Lion fauneth ore his pray Sharpe hunger by the conquest satisfied So ore this sleeping soule doth TARQVIN stay His rage of lust by gazing qualified Slackt not supprest for standing by her side His eye which late this mutiny restraines Vnto a greater vprore tempts his vaines And they like stragling slaues for pillage fighting Obdurate vassals fell exploits effecting In bloudy death and rauishment delighting Nor childrens teares nor mothers grones respecting Swell in their pride the onset still expecting Anon his beating heart alarum striking Giues the hot charge and bids them doe their liking His drumming heart cheares vp his burning eye His eye commends the leading to his hand His hand as proud of such a dignity Smoking with pride marcht on to make his stand On her bare breasts the heart of all her land VVhose ranckes of blew vaines as his hand did scale Left their round turrets destitute and pale They mustring to the quiet Cabinet Where their deare gouernesse and Lady lies Do tell her she is dreadfully beset And fright her with confusion of their cries She much amaz'd breakes ope her lockt vp eies Who peeping foorth this tumult to behold Are by his flaming torch dim'd and controld Imagine her as one in dead of night From forth dull sleepe by dreadfull fancy waking That thinks she hath beheld some gastly sprite Whose grim aspect sets euery ioynt a shaking What terrour t is but she in worser taking From sleepe disturbd heedfully doth view The sight which makes supposed terror rue Wrapt and confounded in a thousand feares Like to a new-kild bird she trembling lies She dares not looke yet winking there appeares Quicke shifting Antiques vgly in her eyes Such shadowes are the weake braines forgeries Who angry that the eyes flie from their lights In darknesse daunts them with more dreadfull sights His hand that yet remaines vpon her brest Rude Ram to batter such an Iuory wall May feele her heart poore Citizen distrest Wounding it selfe to death rise vp and fall Beating her bulke that his hand shakes withall This moues in him more rage and lesser pitty To make the breach and enter this sweet City First like a trumpet doth his tongue begin To sound a parly to his hartlesse foe Who ore the white sheet peeres her whiter chin The reason of this rash alarme to know Which he by dumbe demeanor seekes to show But she with vehement prayers vrgeth still Vnder what colour he commits this ill Thus he replies the colour in thy face That euen for anger makes the Lilly pale And the red Rose blush at her owne disgrace Shall plead for me and tell my louing tale Vnder that colour am I come to scale Thy neuer conquered Fort the fault is thine For those thine eyes betray thee vnto mine Thus I forestall thee if thou meane to chide Thy beauty hath insnar'd thee to this night Where thou with patience must my will abide My will that markes thee for my earths delight Which I to conquer sought with all my might But as reproofe and reason beat it dead By thy bright beauty it was newly bred I see what crosses my attempts will bring I know what thornes the growing Rose defends I thinke the hony garded with a sting All this before hand counsell comprehends But will is deafe and heares no heedfull friends Onely he hath an eie to gaze on beauty And dotes on what he lookes gainst law or duty I haue debated euen in my soule What wrong what shame what sorrow I shall breed But nothing can affections course controle Or stop the headlong fury of his speed I know repentant teares insue the deed Reproch disdaine and deadly enmity Yet striue I to imbrace mine infamy This said he shakes aloft his Romane blade Which like a Faulcon towring in the skies Coucheth the fowle below with his wings shade Whose crooked beake threats if he mount he dies So vnder his insulting Fauchion lies Harmelesse Lucretia marking what he tels With trembling feare as fowle heare Faulcons bels Lucrece quoth he this night I must enioy thee If thou deny then force must work my way For in thy bed I purpose to destroy thee That done some worthlesse slaue of thine I le slay To kill thine honor with thy liues decay And in thy dead armes doe I meane to place him Swearing I slew him seeing thee imbrace him So thy suruiuing husband shall remaine The scornefull marke of euery open eye Thy kinsmen hang their heads at this disdaine Thy issue blurd with namelesse bastardy And thou the Author of their obloquy Shall haue thy trespasse cited vp in rimes And sung by children in succeeding times But if thou yeeld I rest thy secret friend The fault vnknowne is as a thought vnacted A little harme done to a great good end Fot lawfull policy remaines enacted The poisonous simple sometime is compacted In purest compounds being so applied His venome in effect is purified Then for thy husband and thy childrens sake Tender my suit bequeath not to their lot The shame that from them no deuice can take The blemish that will neuer be forgot Worse then a slauish wipe or birth-houres blot For markes descried in mens natiuity Are Natures faults not their owne infamy Here with a Cocka-trice dead killing eye He rowseth vp himselfe and makes a pause While she the picture of pure piety Like a white Hinde beneath the gripes sharpe clawes Pleads in a wildernesse where are no lawes To the rough beast that knowes no gentle
The coward captiue vanquished doth yeeld To those two armies that would let him goe Rather then triumph in so false a foe Now thinks he that her husbands shallow tongue The niggard prodigall that praisde her so In that high taske hath done her beauty wrong Which farre exceeds his barren skill to show Therefore that praise which Colatine doth owe Inchanted Tarquin answers with furmise In silent wonder of still gazing eyes This earthly Saint adored by this Diuell Little suspecteth the false worshipper For thoughts vnstain'd do sildome dreame on euil Birds neuer limb'd no secret bushes feare So guiltlesse she securely giues good cheare And reuerend welcome to her princely guest Whose inward I le no outward harme exprest For that he colourd with his high estate Hiding base sinne in pleats of Maiesty That nothing in him seemd inordinate Saue sometime too much wonder of his eye Which hauing all all could not satisfie But poorely rich so wanteth in his store That cloyd with much he pineth still for more But she that neuer copte with stranger eies Could pick no meaning from their parling lookes Nor read the subtile shining secrecies Writ in the glassie margents of such bookes She toucht no vnknowne baits nor fear'd no bookes Nor could she moralize his wanton sight More then his eies were opend to the light He stories to her eares her husbands fame Wonne in the fields of fruitfull Italie And decks with praises Colatines high name Made glorious by his manly chiualry With bruised armes and wreaths of victory Her ioy with heaued-vp hand she doth expresse And wordlesse so greets heauen for his successe Far from the purpose of his comming thither He makes excuses for his being there No cloudy show of stormy blustring wether Doth yet in his faire welkin once appeare Till sable night sad source of dread and feare Vpon the world dim darknesse doth display And in her vaulty prison shuts the day For then is Tarquin brought vnto his bed Intending wearinesse with heauy sprite For after supper long he questioned With modest Lucrece and wore out the night Now leaden slumber with liues strength doth fight And euery one to rest themselues betake Saue theeues and eares and troubled minds that wake As one of which doth Tarquin lie reuoluing The sundry dangers of his wils obtaining Yet euer to obtaine his will resoluing Though weake-built hopes perswade him to abstaining Despaire to gaine doth traffique oft for gaining And when great treasure is the meed proposed Though death be adiunct ther 's no death supposed Those that much couet are with gaine so fond That oft 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 profit of excesse Is but to surfet and such griefes sustaine That they proue banckrout in this poore rich gaine The ayme of all is but to nourse the life With honor wealth and ease in wayning age And in this ayme there is such thwarting strife That one for all or all for one we gage As life for honor in fell battails 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 Tarquin 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 When shall he thinke to finde a stranger iust When he himselfe himselfe confounds betraies To slanderous tongues and wretched hatefull daies Now stole vpon the time the dead of night When heauy sleep had closd vp mortall eye No comfortable starre did lend his light No noise but Owles and Wolues death boding cries Now serues the season that they may surprize The silly Lambs pure thoughts are dead and still While lust and Murder wakes to staine and kill And now this lustfull Lord leapt from his bed Throwing his mantle rudely ore his arms Is madly tost between desire and dread Th' one sweetly flatters th' other feateth harme But honest feare bewitcht with lusts foule charme Doth too too oft betake him to retire Beaten away by brainsicke rude desire His Fanchion on a flint he softly smiteth That from the cold stone sparkes of fire doth flie Whereat a waxen torch forthwith he lighteth Which must be lode-star to his lustfull eie And to the flame thus speakes aduisedly As from this cold flint I enforct this fire So LVCRECE must I force to my desire Here pale with feare he doth premeditate The dangers of his lothsome enterprise And in his inward minde he doth debate What 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 With your vncleannesse that which is diuine Offer pure incense to so pure a shrine Let faire humanity abhor the deed That spots and staines loues modest snow-white weed O shame to knighthood and to shining armes O foule dishonor to my housholds 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 scandall will suruiue And be an eie-sore in my golden coate Some loathsome dash the Herald will contriue To cipher me how fondly I did dote That my posterity sham'd with the note Shall curse my bones and hold it for no sinne To wish that I their father had not been What win I if I gaine the thing I seeke A dreame a breath a froth of fleeting ioy Who buies a minutes mirth to waile a weeke Or sels eternity to get a toy For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy Or what fond beggar but to touch the crowne Would with the scepter straight be stroken downe If Colatinus dreame of my intent Will he not wake and in a desperate 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 Whose crime will beare an euer-during blame O what excuse can my inuention make When thou shalt charge me with so blacke a deed VVill not my tongue be mute my fraile ioyuts shake Mine eies for goe their light my false heart bleed The guilt being great the feare doth still exceede And extreame feare can neither fight nor flie But cowardlike with trembling terror die Had Collatinus kild
sounds weake arbitrators Busie your selues in skil-contending schooles Debate where leasure serues with dul debators To trembling Clyents be you mediators For me I force not argument a straw Since that my case is past the help of law In vaine I raile at Opportunity At Time at Tarquin and vnsearchfull night In vaine I cauill with mine infamy In vaine I spurne at my confirm'd despight This helplesse smoke of words doth me no right The remedy indeed to do me good Is to let foorth my foule defiled blood Poore hand why quiuerest thou at this decree Honor thy selfe to rid me of this shame For if I die my Honor liues in thee But if I liue thou liu'st in my defame Since thou couldst not defend thy loyall Dame And wast affeard to scratch her wicked Foe Kill both thy selfe and her for yeelding so This said from her betumbled couch she starts To finde some desperate instrument of death But this no slaughterhouse no toole imparts To make more vent for passage of her breath Which thrunging through her lips so vanisheth As smoake from Aetna that in aire consumes Or that which from discharged Canon fumes In vaine quoth she I liue and seeke in vaine Some happy meane to end a haplesse life I fear'd by Tarquins Fauchion to be slaine Yet for the selfe-same purpose seeke a knife But when I feard I was a loyall wife So am I now O no that cannot be Of that true type hath Tarquin 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 slaunders liuery A dying life to liuing infamy Poore helplesse helpe the treasure stolne away To burne the guiltlesse casket where it lay Well 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 grasse shall neuer come to growth He shall not boast who did thy stocke pollute That thou art doting father of his fruit Nor shall he smile at thee in secret thought Nor laugh with his companions at thy state But thou shalt know thy interest was not bought Basely with gold but stolne from forth thy gate For me I am the mistresse of my fate And with my trespasse neuerwill dispence Till life to death acquit my forst offence I will not poison thee with my attaint Nor fold my fault in cleanly coyn'd excuses My sable ground of sinne I will not paint To hide the truth of this false nights abules My tongue shall vtter all mine eyes like sluces As from a mountaine spring that feeds a dale Shall gush pure streames to purge my impure tale By this lamenting Philomele had ended The well-tun'd warble ofher nightly sorrow And solemne night with slow sad gate descended To ougly Hell when loe the blushing morrow Lends light to all faire eyes that light would borrow But clowdy Lucrece shames her selfe to see And therefore still in night would cloistred be Reuealing day through euery cranny spies And seems to point her out where she sits weeping To whom she sobbing speakes O eye of eyes Why pry'st thou through my window leaue thy peeping Mock with thy tickling beames eyes that are sleeping Brand not my forehead with thy piercing light For day hath nought to do what 's done by night Thus cauils she with euery thing she sees True griefe is fond and testie as a childe Who way-ward once his mood with nought agrees Old woes not infant sorrowes beare them milde Continuance tames the one the other wilde Like an vnpractiz'd swimmer plunging stil With too much labour drowns for want of skill So she deepe drenched in a Sea of care Holds disputation with each thing she viewes And to her selfe all sorrow doth compare No obiect but her passions strength renewes And as one shifts another straight insewes Sometimes her griefe is dumbe and hath no words Sometime t is mad and too much talke affoords 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 merry company Griefe best is pleased with griefes societie True sorrow then is feelingly suffiz'd When with like semblance it is simpathiz'd T is double death to drowne in ken of shore He ten times pines that pines beholding food To see the salue doth make the wound ake more Great griefe grieues most at that would do it good Deepe woes roule forward like a gentle floud Who being stopt the bounding banks oreflowes Griefe dallied with nor law nor limit knowes You mocking Birds quoth she your tunes intombe Within your hollow swelling feathred breasts And in my hearing be you euer dumbe My restlesse discord loues no stops nor rests A wofull hostesse brooks not merry guests Relish your nimble notes to pleasing eares Distresse likes dumps when time is kept with teares Come Philomele that singst 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 groanes the Diapason beare For burthen-wise I le hum on Tarquin still While thou on Tereus descants better skill And whiles against a thorne thou bearst thy part To keepe thy sharpe woes waking wretched I To imitate thee well against my heart Will sixe a sharpe knife to affright mine eye Who if it winke shall thereon fall and die These meanes as frets vpon an instrument Shall tune our heart-strings to true languishment And for poore bird thou sing'st not in the day As shaming any eye should thee behold Some darke deepe desart seated from the way That knowes nor parching heat nor freezing cold Will we finde out and there we will vnfold To creatures stern sad tunes to change their kinds Since men proue beasts let beasts beare gentle minds As the poore frighted Deere that stands at gaze Wildly determining which way to fly Or one incompast with a winding maze That cannot tread the way out readily So with her selfe is she in mutinie To liue or die which of the twaine were better When life is sham'd and death reproches detter To kill my selfe quoth she alacke what were it But with my body my poore soules pollution They that loose halfe with greater patience beare it Then they whose whole is swallowed in confusion That mother tries a mercilesse conclusion Who hauing two sweet babes when death takes one Will slay the other and be nurse to none My body or my soule which was the dearer When the one pure the other made diuine Whose loue of either to my selfe was nearer When both were kept for Heauen and Colatine Ay me the barke pild from the lofty 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 battered by
the enemy Her sacred Temple spotted spoild corrupted Grosly ingirt with daring infamy Then let it not be cald impiety If in this blemisht for t I make some hole Through which I may conuey this troubled soule Yet die I will not till my Colatine Haue heard the cause of my vntimely death That he may vow in that sad houre of mine Reuenge on him that made me stop my breath My stained bloud to Tarquin I le bequeath VVhich by him tainted shall for him be spent And as his due writ in my Testament My honor I le bequeath vnto the knife That wounds my body so dishonored T is Honor to depriue dishonored life The one will liue the other being dead So of shames ashes shall my Fame be bred For in my death I murther shamefull scorne My shame so dead my honor is new borne Deare Lord of that deare Iewell I haue lost What legacy shall I bequeath to thee My resolution loue shall be thy bost By whose example thou reueng'd maist be How Tarquin must be vs'd read it in me My selfe thy friend will kill my selfe thy foe And for my sake serue thou false Tarquin so This briefe abridgement of my will I make My soule and body to the skies and ground My resolution Husband doe you take Mine honor be the knifes that make 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 Then Colatine shall ouersee this will How was I ouerseene that thou shalt see it My bloud shall wash the slander of mine ill My life 's foule deed my lifes faire end shall free it Faint not faint heart but stoutly 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 sadly she had laid And wipt the brinish pearle from her bright eyes With vntun'd tongue she hoarsely calld her maid Whose swift obedience to her mistresse hies For fleet-wingd duty with thoughts feathers flies Poore Lucrece cheekes vnto her maid seeme so As winter meads when Sunne doth melt their snow Her mistresse she doth giue demure good morrow With soft slow tongue true markes of modesty And sorts a sad looke to her Ladies sorrow For why her face wore sorrowes liuery But durst not aske of her audaciously Why her two suns were clowd-eclipsed so Nor why her faire cheeks ouer washt with woe But as the earth doth weepe the Sun being set Each flower moystned like a melting eye Euen so the maid with swelling drops gan wet Her circkled eyne enforc'd by sympathie Of those faire Suns set in her mistresse skie Who in a salt-wau'd Ocean quench their light Which makes the maid weepe like the dewy night A prettie while these pretty creatures stand Like iuory conduits corall cesierues filling One iustly weepes the other takes in hand No cause but company of her drops spilling Their gentle sex to weepe are often willing Grieuing themselues to gesse at other smarts And then they drowne their eies or breake their harts For men haue marble women waxen minds And therefore are they form'd as marble will The weake opprest th' impression of strange kinds 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 Wherein is stampt the semblance of a diuell Their smothnesse like a champaine plaine Layes open all the little wormes that creepe In men as in a rough growne groue remaine Caue-keeping euils that obscurely sleepe Through chrystall walles ech little mote will peepe Though men can couer crimes with bold stern looks Poore womans faces are their owne faults bookes No man inueighs against the withered flowre But chide rough winter that the flowre hath kild Not that deuourd but that which doth deuoure Is worthy blame ô let it not be held Poore womens faults that they are so fulfild With mens abuses those proud Lords to blame Make weake-made women tenants to their shame The president whereof in Lucrece view Assail'd by night with circumstances strong Of present death and shame that mightinsue By that her death to do her husband wrong Such danger to resistance did belong The dying feare through all her body spread And who cannot abuse a body dead By this milde patience bid faire Lucrece speake To the poore counterfeit of her complayning My girle quoth she on what occasion breake Those teares from thee that downe thy cheeks are raining If thou dost weepe for griefe of my sustaining Know gentle wench it small auailes my moode If teares could helpe mine owne would do me good But tell me girle when went and there she staid Til after a deepe grone Tarquin from hence Madam ere I was vp repli'd the maid 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 Tarquin gone away But Lady if your maid may be so bold She would request to know your heauinesse O peace quoth Lucrece if it should be told The repetition cannot make it lesse For more it is then I can well expresse And that deep torture may be cald a Hell When more is felt then one hath power to tell Goe get me hither paper inke and pen Yet saue that labour for I haue them heare What should I say one of my husbands men Bid thou be ready by and by to beare A Letter to my Lord my loue my deare Bid him with speed prepare to carry it The cause craues hast and it will soone be writ Her maide is gone and she prepares to write First houering ore the paper with her quill Conceipt and griefe an eager combat fight What Wit sets downe is blotted still with Will This is too curious good this blunt and ill Much like a prease of people at a dore Throng her inuentions which shall goe before At last she thus begins Thou worthy Lord Of that vnworthy wife that greeteth thee Health to thy person next vouchsafet ' afford If euer loue thy LVCRECE thou wilt see Some present speed to come and visit me So I commend me from our house in griefe My woes are tedious though my words are briefe Here folds she vp the tenor of her woe Her certain sorrow writ vncertainly By this short sedule Colatine may know Her griefe but not her griefes true quality She dares not thereof make discouery Least he should hold it her owne grosse abuse Ere she with blood had staind her staind excuse Besides the life and feeling of her passien She hoords to spend when he is by to heare her VVhen sighes and grones and teares may grace the fashion Of her disgrace the better so to cleare her From that suspition which the world might beare her To shun this blot she would not blot the letter With words till action might become