The Rape of Lucrece

“ Gnats are unnoted wheresoe'er they fly,   But eagles gazed upon with every eye.”

“  Like an unpractis'd swimmer plunging still   With too much labour drowns for want of skill.”

“ Poor Lucrece' cheeks unto her maid seem so   As winter meads when sun doth melt their snow.”

“ Though men can cover crimes with bold stern looks,   Poor women's faces are their own faults' books.”

“(My restless discord loves no stops nor rests; A woeful hostess brooks not merry guests:)   Relish your nimble notes to pleasing ears;   Distress likes dumps when time is kept with tears.”

“A thousand lamentable objects there, In scorn of Nature, Art gave lifeless life: Many a dry drop seem'd a weeping tear, Shed for the slaughter'd husband by the wife:”

“Affection is my captain, and he leadeth;   And when his gaudy banner is display'd,   The coward fights and will not be dismay'd.”

“Ah, me! the bark peel'd from the lofty pine,   His leaves will wither, and his sap decay;   So must my soul, her bark being peel'd away.”

“An accessory by thine inclination   To all sins past, and all that are to come,   From the creation to the general doom.”

“And as one shifts, another straight ensues:   Sometime her grief is dumb and hath no words;   Sometime 'tis mad, and too much talk affords.”

“And then in key-cold Lucrece' bleeding stream He falls, and bathes the pale fear in his face, And counterfeits to die with her a space;   Till manly shame bids him possess his breath,   And live, to be revenged on her death.”

“And then with lank and lean discolour'd cheek, With heavy eye, knit brow, and strengthless pace, Feeble desire, all recreant, poor, and meek, Like to a bankrupt beggar wails his case:”

“And thou, the author of their obloquy,   Shalt have thy trespass cited up in rhymes,    And sung by children in succeeding times.”

“And, if possess'd, as soon decay'd and done As is the morning's silver-melting dew Against the golden splendour of the sun! An expir'd date, cancell'd ere well begun:   Honour and beauty, in the owner's arms,   Are weakly fortress'd from a world of harms.”

“As corn o'ergrown by weeds, so heedful fear Is almost chok'd by unresisted lust. Away he steals with opening, listening ear, Full of foul hope, and full of fond mistrust;”

“Beating her bulk, that his hand shakes withal.   This moves in him more rage, and lesser pity,   To make the breach, and enter this sweet city.”

“Beauty itself doth of itself persuade The eyes of men without an orator; What needeth then apologies be made, To set forth that which is so singular?”

“Begins to talk; but through his lips do throng   Weak words, so thick come in his poor heart's aid,   That no man could distinguish what he said.”

“But I alone alone must sit and pine, Seasoning the earth with showers of silver brine,   Mingling my talk with tears, my grief with groans,   Poor wasting monuments of lasting moans.”

“But durst not ask of her audaciously   Why her two suns were cloud-eclipsed so,   Nor why her fair cheeks over-wash'd with woe”

“But in the midst of his unfruitful prayer, Having solicited the eternal power, That his foul thoughts might compass his fair fair, And they would stand auspicious to the hour,”

“But no perfection is so absolute,   That some impurity doth not pollute.”

“But she, that never cop'd with stranger eyes, Could pick no meaning from their parling looks, Nor read the subtle-shining secrecies Writ in the glassy margents of such books;”

“But some untimely thought did instigate His all-too-timeless speed, if none of those; His honour, his affairs, his friends, his state, Neglected all, with swift intent he goes To quench the coal which in his liver glows.”

“By heaven and earth, and all the power of both,   That to his borrow'd bed he make retire,   And stoop to honour, not to foul desire.”

“Charging the sour-fac'd groom to hie as fast As lagging fowls before the northern blast.   Speed more than speed but dull and slow she deems:   Extremely still urgeth such extremes.”

“Cheeks neither red nor pale, but mingled so   That blushing red no guilty instance gave,   Nor ashy pale the fear that false hearts have.”

“Despair to gain doth traffic oft for gaining;   And when great treasure is the meed propos'd,   Though death be adjunct, there's no death suppos'd.”

“Far from the purpose of his coming hither, He makes excuses for his being there. No cloudy show of stormy blustering weather Doth yet in his fair welkin once appear;”

“For 'tis a meritorious fair design   To chase injustice with revengeful arms:   Knights, by their oaths, should right poor ladies' harms.”

“For day,' quoth she, 'night's scapes doth open lay;   And my true eyes have never practis'd how   To cloak offences with a cunning brow.”

“For much imaginary work was there; Conceit deceitful, so compact, so kind, That for Achilles' image stood his spear, Grip'd in an armed hand; himself, behind, Was left unseen, save to the eye of mind:   A hand, a foot, a face, a leg, a head,   Stood for the whole to be imagined,”

“For unstain'd thoughts do seldom dream on evil; Birds never lim'd no secret bushes fear: So guiltless she securely gives good cheer   And reverend welcome to her princely guest,   Whose inward ill no outward harm express'd:”

“From lips new-waxen pale begins to blow The grief away that stops his answer so:   But wretched as he is he strives in vain;   What he breathes out his breath drinks up again.”

“From the besieged Ardea all in post, Borne by the trustless wings of false desire, Lust-breathed Tarquin leaves the Roman host, And to Collatium bears the lightless fire Which, in pale embers hid, lurks to aspire   And girdle with embracing flames the waist   Of Collatine's fair love, Lucrece the chaste.”

“He hath no power to ask her how she fares,   Both stood, like old acquaintance in a trance,   Met far from home, wondering each other's chance.”

“He stories to her ears her husband's fame, Won in the fields of fruitful Italy; And decks with praises Collatine's high name, Made glorious by his manly chivalry”

“He with the Romans was esteemed so   As silly-jeering idiots are with kings,   For sportive words, and uttering foolish things:”

“Her blue blood, chang'd to black in every vein,   Wanting the spring that those shrunk pipes had fed,   Show'd life imprison'd in a body dead.”

“Her contrite sighs unto the clouds bequeath'd   Her winged sprite, and through her wounds doth fly   Life's lasting date from cancell'd destiny.”

“Her earnest eye did make him more amaz'd:   The more saw the blood his cheeks replenish,   The more she thought he spied in her some blemish.”

“Her pity-pleading eyes are sadly fix'd In the remorseless wrinkles of his face; Her modest eloquence with sighs is mix'd, Which to her oratory adds more grace.”

“Here friend by friend in bloody channel lies, And friend to friend gives unadvised wounds, And one man's lust these many lives confounds:”

“Here pale with fear he doth premeditate The dangers of his loathsome enterprise, And in his inward mind he doth debate What following sorrow may on this arise;”

“His drumming heart cheers up his burning eye, His eye commends the leading to his hand; His hand, as proud of such a dignity, Smoking with pride, march'd on to make his stand”

“How he in peace is wounded, not in war.   Alas, how many bear such shameful blows,   Which not themselves, but he that gives them knows!”

“I have debated, even in my soul, What wrong, what shame, what sorrow I shall breed; But nothing can Affection's course control, Or stop the headlong fury of his speed.”

“If but for fear of this, thy will remove;   For princes are the glass, the school, the book,   Where subjects eyes do learn, do read, do look.”

“If that be made a theme for disputation, The branches of another root are rotted, And undeserved reproach to him allotted,   That is as clear from this attaint of mine   As I, ere this, was pure to Collatine.”

“In her the painter had anatomiz'd Time's ruin, beauty's wrack, and grim care's reign: Her cheeks with chops and wrinkles were disguis'd; Of what she was no semblance did remain:”

“In him the painter labour'd with his skill To hide deceit, and give the harmless show An humble gait, calm looks, eyes wailing still, A brow unbent, that seem'd to welcome woe;”

“In me more woes than words are now depending;   And my laments would be drawn out too long,   To tell them all with one poor tired tongue.”

“In rage sent out, recall'd in rage, being past:   Even so his sighs, his sorrows make a saw.   To push grief on, and back the same grief draw.”

“Let ghastly shadows his lewd eyes affright;   And the dire thought of his committed evil   Shape every bush a hideous shapeless devil.”

“Let guiltless souls be freed from guilty woe:   For one's offence why should so many fall,   To plague a private sin in general?”

“Look, as the fair and fiery-pointed sun, Rushing from forth a cloud, bereaves our sight; Even so, the curtain drawn, his eyes begun To wink, being blinded with a greater light:”

“Look, as the full-fed hound or gorged hawk, Unapt for tender smell or speedy flight, Make slow pursuit, or altogether balk The prey wherein by nature they delight;”

“Losing her woes in shows of discontent.   It easeth some, though none it ever cur'd,   To think their dolour others have endur'd.”

“Make me not object to the tell-tale day! The light will show, character'd in my brow, The story of sweet chastity's decay, The impious breach of holy wedlock vow:”

“Mine enemy was strong, my poor self weak, And far the weaker with so strong a fear: My bloody judge forbade my tongue to speak; No rightful plea might plead for justice there:”

“My blood shall wash the slander of mine ill; My life's foul deed my life's fair end shall free it. Faint not, faint heart, but stoutly say "so be it:"   Yield to my hand; my hand shall conquer thee;   Thou dead, both die, and both shall victors be.' ”

“My honey lost, and I, a drone-like bee, Have no perfection of my summer left, But robb'd and ransack'd by injurious theft:   In thy weak hive a wandering wasp hath crept,   And suck'd the honey which thy chaste bee kept.”

“My shame be his that did my fame confound;   And all my fame that lives disburs'd be   To those that live, and think no shame of me. ”

“My sighs, like whirlwinds, labour hence to heave thee.   If ever man were mov'd with woman's moans,   Be moved with my tears, my sighs, my groans:”

“My tongue shall utter all; mine eyes, like sluices,   As from a mountain-spring that feeds a dale,   Shall gush pure streams to purge my impure tale.”

“My will is strong, past reason's weak removing.   Who fears a sentence or an old man's saw   Shall by a painted cloth be kept in awe.”

“My will that marks thee for my earth's delight, Which I to conquer sought with all my might;   But as reproof and reason beat it dead,   By thy bright beauty was it newly bred.”

“Now is he come unto the chamber door, That shuts him from the heaven of his thought, Which with a yielding latch, and with no more, Hath barr'd him from the blessed thing he sought.”

“Now leaden slumber with life's strength doth fight;   And every one to rest themselves betake,   Save thieves, and cares, and troubled minds, that wake.”

“Now stole upon the time the dead of night, When heavy sleep had closed up mortal eyes: No comfortable star did lend his light, No noise but owls' and wolves' death-boding cries;”

“Now thinks he that her husband's shallow tongue, (The niggard prodigal that prais'd her so) In that high task hath done her beauty wrong, Which far exceeds his barren skill to show:”

“O Time, thou tutor both to good and bad, Teach me to curse him that thou taught'st this ill! At his own shadow let the thief run mad! Himself himself seek every hour to kill!”

“O deeper sin than bottomless conceit Can comprehend in still imagination! Drunken desire must vomit his receipt, Ere he can see his own abomination.”

“O hateful, vaporous, and foggy night! Since thou art guilty of my cureless crime, Muster thy mists to meet the eastern light, Make war against proportion'd course of time!”

“O how her fear did make her colour rise!   First red as roses that on lawn we lay,   Then white as lawn, the roses took away.”

“O, if no harder than a stone thou art,   Melt at my tears, and be compassionate!   Soft pity enters at an iron gate.”

“O, teach me how to make mine own excuse! Or at the least this refuge let me find; Though my gross blood be stain'd with this abuse, Immaculate and spotless is my mind;”

“O, what excuse can my invention make When thou shalt charge me with so black a deed? Will not my tongue be mute, my frail joints shake? Mine eyes forego their light, my false heart bleed?”

“Of that we have: so then we do neglect   The thing we have; and, all for want of wit,   Make something nothing, by augmenting it.”

“Out, idle words, servants to shallow fools! Unprofitable sounds, weak arbitrators! Busy yourselves in skill-contending schools; Debate where leisure serves with dull debaters;”

“Perchance that envy of so rich a thing, Braving compare, disdainfully did sting”

“Pleads in a wilderness where are no laws,   To the rough beast that knows no gentle right,   Nor aught obeys but his foul appetite.”

“Poor broken glass, I often did behold In thy sweet semblance my old age new born; But now that fair fresh mirror, dim and old, Shows me a bare-bon'd death by time outworn;”

“Sad souls are slain in merry company: Grief best is pleas'd with grief's society:   True sorrow then is feelingly suffic'd   When with like semblance it is sympathiz'd.”

“Short time seems long in sorrow's sharp sustaining.   Though woe be heavy, yet it seldom sleeps;   And they that watch see time how slow it creeps.”

“Showing life's triumph in the map of death, And death's dim look in life's mortality: Each in her sleep themselves so beautify,   As if between them twain there were no strife,   But that life liv'd in death, and death in life.”

“Slack'd, not suppress'd; for standing by her side,   His eye, which late this mutiny restrains,   Unto a greater uproar tempts his veins:”

“So Lucrece set a-work sad tales doth tell   To pencill'd pensiveness and colour'd sorrow;   She lends them words, and she their looks doth borrow.”

“So should I have co-partners in my pain:   And fellowship in woe doth woe assuage,   As palmers' chat makes short their pilgrimage.”

“So that in vent'ring ill we leave to be The things we are, for that which we expect; And this ambitious foul infirmity, In having much, torments us with defect”

“So with herself is she in mutiny,   To live or die which of the twain were better,   When life is sham'd, and Death reproach's debtor.”

“Some dark deep desert, seated from the way, That knows not parching heat nor freezing cold, Will we find out; and there we will unfold   To creatures stern sad tunes, to change their kinds:   Since men prove beasts, let beasts bear gentle minds.”

“Stone him with harden'd hearts, harder than stones;   And let mild women to him lose their mildness,   Wilder to him than tigers in their wildness.”

“Such harmless creatures have a true respect To talk in deeds, while others saucily Promise more speed, but do it leisurely:   Even so this pattern of the worn-out age   Pawn'd honest looks, but laid no words to gage.”

“Such hazard now must doting Tarquin make, Pawning his honour to obtain his lust; And for himself himself he must forsake: Then where is truth, if there be no self-trust?”

“Swell in their pride, the onset still expecting:   Anon his beating heart, alarum striking,   Gives the hot charge and bids them do their liking.”

“That my posterity, sham'd with the note,   Shall curse my bones, and hold it for no sin   To wish that I their father had not been.”

“The aged man that coffers up his gold Is plagued with cramps, and gouts, and painful fits; And scarce hath eyes his treasure to behold, But like still-pining Tantalus he sits, And useless barns the harvest of his wits;   Having no other pleasure of his gain   But torment that it cannot cure his pain.”

“The aim of all is but to nurse the life With honour, wealth, and ease, in waning age; And in this aim there is such thwarting strife, That one for all, or all for one we gage;”

“The coward captive vanquish'd doth yield   To those two armies that would let him go,   Rather than triumph in so false a foe.”

“The crow may bathe his coal-black wings in mire, And unperceived fly with the filth away; But if the like the snow-white swan desire, The stain upon his silver down will stay.”

“The doors, the wind, the glove that did delay him, He takes for accidental things of trial; Or as those bars which stop the hourly dial,   Who with a lingering stay his course doth let,   Till every minute pays the hour his debt.”

“The flesh being proud, desire doth fight with Grace,   For there it revels; and when that decays,   The guilty rebel for remission prays.”

“The lesser thing should not the greater hide;   The cedar stoops not to the base shrub's foot,   But low shrubs whither at the cedar's root.”

“The petty streams that pay a daily debt   To their salt sovereign, with their fresh falls' haste,   Add to his flow, but alter not his taste.”

“The repetition cannot make it less; For more it is than I can well express:   And that deep torture may be call'd a hell,   When more is felt than one hath power to tell.”

“The threshold grates the door to have him heard;   Night-wand'ring weasels shriek to see him there;   They fright him, yet he still pursues his fear.”

“Their face their manners most expressly told: In Ajax' eyes blunt rage and rigour roll'd;   But the mild glance that sly Ulysses lent   Show'd deep regard and smiling government.”

“Their father was too weak, and they too strong, To hold their cursed-blessed fortune long.   The sweets we wish for turn to loathed sours,   Even in the moment that we call them ours.”

“Their silver cheeks, and call'd it then their shield;   Teaching them thus to use it in the fight,—   When shame assail'd, the red should fence the white.”

“Then call them not the authors of their ill,   No more than wax shall be accounted evil,   Wherein is stamp'd the semblance of a devil.”

“Then jointly to the ground their knees they bow;   And that deep vow, which Brutus made before,   He doth again repeat, and that they swore.”

“Then let it not be call'd impiety,   If in this blemish'd fort I make some hole   Through which I may convey this troubled soul.”

“There might you see the labouring pioner Begrim'd with sweat, and smeared all with dust;”

“There pleading might you see grave Nestor stand, As't were encouraging the Greeks to fight; Making such sober action with his hand That it beguiled attention, charm'd the sight:”

“They think not but that every eye can see The same disgrace which they themselves behold; And therefore would they still in darkness be, To have their unseen sin remain untold;”

“This bastard graff shall never come to growth:   He shall not boast who did thy stock pollute   That thou art doting father of his fruit.”

“This helpless smoke of words doth me no right.   The remedy indeed to do me good   Is to let forth my foul-defil'd blood.”

“This heraldry in Lucrece' face was seen, Argued by beauty's red, and virtue's white: Of either's colour was the other queen, Proving from world's minority their right:”

“Those that much covet are with gain so fond, For what they have not, that which they possess They scatter and unloose it from their bond, And so, by hoping more, they have but less; Or, gaining more, the profit of excess   Is but to surfeit, and such griefs sustain,   That they prove bankrupt in this poor-rich gain.”

“Threat'ning cloud-kissing Ilion with annoy;   Which the conceited painter drew so proud,   As heaven (it seem'd) to kiss the turrets bow'd.”

“Thus ebbs and flows the current of her sorrow, And time doth weary time with her complaining. She looks for night, and then she longs for morrow, And both she thinks too long with her remaining:”

“Till after many accents and delays, Untimely breathings, sick and short assays,   She utters this: 'He, he, fair lords, 'tis he,   That guides this hand to give this wound to me.”

“Till sable Night, mother of Dread and Fear,   Upon the world dim darkness doth display,   And in her vaulty prison stows the day.”

“To mock the subtle, in themselves beguil'd;   To cheer the ploughman with increaseful crops,   And waste huge stones with little water-drops.”

“To see sad sights moves more than hear them told; For then the eye interprets to the ear The heavy motion that it doth behold, When every part a part of woe doth bear.”

“We have no good that we can say is ours,   But ill-annexed Opportunity   Or kills his life or else his quality.”

“What priceless wealth the heavens had him lent In the possession of his beauteous mate; Reckoning his fortune at such high-proud rate,   That kings might be espoused to more fame,   But king nor peer to such a peerless dame.”

“What terror 'tis! but she, in worser taking,   From sleep disturbed, heedfully doth view   The sight which makes supposed terror true.”

“What win I, if I gain the thing I seek? A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy: Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week? Or sells eternity to get a toy?”

“When Collatine unwisely did not let To praise the clear unmatched red and white Which triumph'd in that sky of his delight,   Where mortal stars, as bright as heaven's beauties,   With pure aspects did him peculiar duties.”

“When virtue bragg'd, beauty would blush for shame;   When beauty boasted blushes, in despite   Virtue would stain that or with silver white.”

“When wilt thou be the humble suppliant's friend, And bring him where his suit may be obtain'd? When wilt thou sort an hour great strifes to end? Or free that soul which wretchedness hath chain'd?”

“Which he by dumb demeanour seeks to show;   But she with vehement prayers urgeth still   Under what colour he commits this ill.”

“While with a joyless smile she turns away The face, that map which deep impression bears Of hard misfortune, carv'd in it with tears.”

“Why art thou thus attir'd in discontent?   Unmask, dear dear, this moody heaviness,   And tell thy grief, that we may give redress.”

“With more than admiration he admir'd   Her azure veins, her alabaster skin,   Her coral lips, her snow-white dimpled chin.”

“With rotten damps ravish the morning air; Let their exhal'd unwholesome breaths make sick The life of purity, the supreme fair, Ere he arrive his weary noontide prick;”

“Worse than a slavish wipe, or birth-hour's blot:   For marks descried in men's nativity   Are nature's faults, not their own infamy.”

“Yet neither may possess the claim they lay, The father says 'She's mine,' 'O, mine she is,' Replies her husband: 'do not take away My sorrow's interest;”

“Yet their ambition makes them still to fight;   The sovereignty of either being so great,   That oft they interchange each other's seat.”