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
them better To see sad sights moues more then heare them told For then the eye interprets to the eare The heauy motion that it doth behold VVhen euery part a part of woe doth beare T is but a part of sorrow that we heare Deepe sounds make lesser noise then shallow fords And sorrow ebs being blowne with wind of words Her letter now is seald and on it writ At Ardea to my Lord with more than haste The Post attends and she deliuers it Charging the soure fac'd groom to high as fast As lagging foules before the Northren blast Speed more then speed but dull and slow she deems Extremity still vrgeth such extremes The homely villaine cursies to her lowe And blushing on her with a stedfast eye Receiues the scroll without or yea or no And forthwith bashfull innocence doth lie But they whose guilt within their bosomes lie Imagine euery eye beholds their blame For Lucrece thought he blusht to see her shame VVhen silly Groome God wot it was defect Of spirit life and bold audacity Such harmlesse creatures haue a true respect To talke in deeds while others saucily Promise more speed but doe it leasurely Euen so this patterne of the worne out age Pawn'd honest lookes but laid no words to gage His kindled duty kindled her mistrust That two red fires in both their faces blazed She thought he blusht as knowing Tarquins lust And blushing with him wistly on him gazed Her earnest eye did make him more amazed The more she saw the bloud his cheeks replenish The more she thought he spied in her some blemish But long she thinks till he returne againe And yet the duteous vassall scarce is gone The weary time she cannot entertaine For now t is stale to sigh to weepe and grone So woe hath wearied woe mone tyred mone That she her plaints a little while doth stay Pawsing for meanes to mourne some newer way At last she cals to minde where hangs a peece Of skilfull painting made for Priams Troy Before the which is drawne the power of Greece For Hellens rape the citie to destroy Threatning cloud-kissing Illion with annoy Which the conceipted Painter drew so proud As heauen it seemd to kisse the turrets bowd A thousand lamentable obiects there In scorne of Nature Art gaue liuelesse life Many a dire drop seemd a weeping teare Shed for the slaughtred husband by the wife The red bloud reekd to shew the painters strife And dying eies gleemd forth their ashy lights Like dying coales burnt out in tedious nights There might you see the labouring Pyoner Begrimd with sweat and smeared all with dust And from the towres of Troy there would appeare The verie eies of men through loope-holes thrust Gazing vpon the Greekes with little lust Such sweet obseruance in this worke was had That one might see those farre off eies looke sad In great commanders Grace and Maiestie You might behold triumphing in their faces In youth quick-bearing and dexteritie And heere and there the Painter interlaces Pale couards marching on with trembling paces Which hartlesse peasants did so well resemble That one would sweare he saw them quake tremble In Aiax and Vlysses O what Art Of Phisiognomy might one behold The face of either cipher'd eithers heart Their face their maners most expresly told In Aiax eies blunt rage and rigor rold But the mild glance that she Vlisses lent Shew'd deepe regard and smiling gouernment There pleading might you see graue Nestor stand As'twere incouraging the Greekes to fight Making such sober action with his hand That it beguild attention charm'd the sight In speach it seemd his beard al siluer white Wag'd vp and downe and from his lips did flie Thin winding breath which purl'd vp to the skie About him were a prease of gaping faces Which seem'd to swallow vp his sound aduise All ioyntly listning but with seuerall graces As if some Mermaid did their eares intise Some high some low the painter was so nise The scalpes of many almost hid behind To iump vp higher seem'd to mock the mind Here one mans hand lean'd on anothers head His nose being shadowed by his neighbours eare Here one being throng'd beares backe al boln and red Another smotherd seemes to pelt and sweare And in their rage such signes of rage they beare As but for losse of Nestors golden words It seem'd they would debate with angry swords For much imaginarie worke was there Conceipt deceitfull so compact so kinde That for Achilles image stood his speare Gript in an armed hand himselfe behinde Was left vnseene saue to the eye of minde A hand a foote a face a leg a head Stood for the whole to be imagined And from the wals of strong besieged Troy When their braue hope bold Hector march'd to field Stood many Troiane mothers sharing ioy To see their youthfull sonnes bright weapons wield And to their hope they such odde action yield That through their light ioy seemed to appeare Like bright things stain'd a kind of heauie feare And from the strond of Dardan where they fought To Simois reedy banks the red bloud ran Whose waues to imitate the battel sought With swelling ridges and their ranks began To breake vpon the galled shore and than Retire againe till meeting greater ranks They ioyne and shoot their some at Simois banks To this well painted peece is Lucrece come To finde a face where all distresse is steld Many she sees where cares haue carued some But none where all distresse and dolour dweld Til she dispairing Hecuba beheld Staring on Priams wounds with her old eyes Which bleeding vnder Pirrhus proud foot lies In her the Painter had annotimiz'd Times ruine Beauties wrack and grim Cares raigne Her cheeks with chops and wrinckles were disguiz'd Of what she was no semblance did remaine Her blew bloud chang'd to black in euery vain Wanting the spring that those shrunk pipes had fed Shew'd life imprison'd in a body dead On this sad shadow Lucrece spends her cies And shapes her sorrow to the Beldames woes Who nothing wants to answer her but cries And bitter words to ban her cruell foes The Painter was no God to lend her those And therefore Lucrece sweares he did her wrong To giue her so much griefe and not a tong Poore instrument quoth she without a sound I le tune thy woes with my lamenting tongue And drop sweet balme in Priams painted wound And raile on Pirrhus that hath done him wrong And with my teares quench Troy that burns so long And with my knife scratch out the angry eyes Of all the Greeks that are thine enemies Shew me the strumpet that began this sturre That with my nailes her beautie I may teare Thy heat of lust fond Paris did incurre This lode of wrath that burning Troy doth beare Thy eye kindled the fire that burneth here And here in Troy for trespasse of thine eye The Sire the Son the Dame and Daughter die Why should the priuate pleasure of some one Become
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 vpon 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 not end Shamefull it is if once the fact be knowne Hatefull it is there is no hate in louing I le beg her loue but she is not her owne The worst is but deniall and reprouing My will is strong past reasons weake remouing VVho feares a sentence or an old mans sawe 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 proceed That what is vile shewes like a vertuous deed Quoth he she tooke me kindely by the hand And gaz'd for tidings in my eager eies Fearing some hard newes from the warlike band VVhere her beloued Colatinus lies O how her feare did make her colour rise First red as Roses that on Lawne we lay Then white as Lawne the Roses tooke away And now her hand in my hand being lockt Forst it to tremble with her loyall feare Which strooke her sad and then it faster rockt Vntill her husbands welfare she did heare Whereat she smiled with so sweet a cheare That had Narsissus seen her as flie stood Selfe-loue had neuer drown'd him in the flood Why hunt I then for colour or excuses All Orators are dumbe when beauty pleads Poore wretches haue remorse in poore abuses Loue thriues not in the heart that shadowes dreads Affection is my Captaine and he leades And when this gaudy banner is displaide The coward fights and will not be dismaide Then childish feare auant debating die Respect and Reason waite on wrinkled age My heart shall neuer countermand mine eye Sad Pause and deepe Regard beseems the sage My part is youth and beats these from the stage Desire my pilot is Beauty my prise Then who feares sinking where such treasure lies As corne ore-growne by weeds so heedfull feare Is almost cloakt 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 Within his thought her heauenly image sits And in the selfe same seat sits Colatine That eye which looks on her confounds his wits That eye which him beholds as more diuine Vnto a view so false will not incline But with a pure appeale seeks to the heart Which once corrupted takes the worser part And therein hartens vp his seruile powers VVho flattered by their leaders iocond 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 doth march to Lucrece bed The lockes between her chamber and his will Each one by him enforst recites his ward But as they open they all rate his ill VVhich driues the creeping theefe to some regard The threshold grates the dore to haue him heard Night-wandring Weezles shreeke to see him there They fright him yet he still pursues his feare As each vnwilling portall yeelds him way Through little vents and crannies of the place The winde wars with his torch to make him stay And blowes the smoke of it into his face Extinguishing his conduct in this case But his hot heart which fond desire doth scorch Puffes forth another winde that fires the torch And being lighted by the light he spies Lucreciaes gloue wherein her needle stickes 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 nor inur'd returne againe in hast Thou seest our Mistresse ornaments are chast But all these poore forbiddings could not stay him He in the worst sence construes their deniall The dores the wind the gloue that did delay him He takes for accedentall things of triall Or as those barres which stop the hourely diall Who with a lingring stay his course doth let Till euery minute payes the houre his debt So so quoth he these lets attend the time Like little frosts that sometime threat the spring To adde a more reioycing to the prime And giue the sneaped birds more cause to sing Paine paies the income of ech precious thing Huge rocks high winds strong pirates 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 Which 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 Prey to pray he doth begin As if the heauens should countenance his sinne But in the midst of his vnfruitfull prayer Hauing sollicited th' eternall power That his foule thoughts might compasse his fair faire And they would stand auspicious to the howre Euen there he starts quoth he I must defloure The powers to whom I pray abhor this fact How can they then assist me in the act Then loue and fortune be my Gods my guide My will is backt with resolution Thoughts are but dreames till their effects be tried Blacke sinne is cleard with absolution Against loues fire feares frost hath dissolution The eye of heauen is out and misty night Couers the shame that followes sweet delight This said his guilty 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 works ere traitors be espied VVho sees the lurking serpent steps aside But she sound sleeping fearing no such thing Lies at the mercy of his mortall sting Into the chamber wickedly he stalkes And gazeth on her yet vnstained bed The curtaines being close about he walkes Rouling his greedy eye-bals in his head By their high treason is his heart misled Which giues the watch-word to his hand too soone To draw the cloude that hides the siluer Moone Looke as the faire and fiery pointed Sunne Rushing from forth a cloud bereaues our sight Euen so the curtaine drawne his eies begun To winke being blinded with a greater light Whether it is that she reflects so bright That dazeleth them or else some shame supposed But blind they are and keep themselues inclosed O had they in that darksome prison died Then had they seen the period of their ill Then Colatine againe by Lucrece side In his cleare bed might haue reposed still But they must ope this blessed league to kill And holy-thoughted Lucrece to their sight Must sell her ioy her life her worlds delight Her lilly hand her rosie cheekes lies vnder