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Tu ngly hell; when lo! the blushing morrow So I at each sad strain will strain a tear, Lends light to all fair eyes, that light will And with deep groans the Diapason bear. borrow :

For burden-wise I'll hum on Tarquin still, But cloudy Lucrece shames her self to see,

While thou on Tereus descant'st better skill. And therefore still in night would cloister'd be.

And while against a thorn thou bear'st thy part, Revealing day through every cranny spics, To keep thy Mharp woes waking; wretched i,. And seems to point her out where she fits weep To imitace thee well, against my heart

Will fix a sharp knife, to affright mine cye, To whom

the sobbing speaks, O ! eye of eyes ! Who, if it wink, shall thereon fall and die. Why pry'st thou through my window? Leave thy These mcans, as frets upon an instrument, peeping;

(leeping Shall tune our heart-strings to true languisho Mock with thy tickling beams eyes that are

Brand not my forehead with thy piercing light; For day hath nought to do what's done by And for, poor bird, thou fing' t not in the day, night.

As shaming any eye should thee behold;

Some dark deep desart seated from the way, Thus cavils she with every thing the lees. That knows not parching heat, for freezing cold, True grief is fond, and testy as a child,

Will we find out; and there we will unfold Who way-ward once, his mood with nought To creatures stern, sad tuncs to change their agrees.

kinds : Old woes, not infant forrows bear them mild; Since mien prove beasts, let beasts bear gentle Continuance tames the one, the other wild

minds. Like an unpractis'd swimmer plunging still, With too much labour drowns for want of As the poor frighted deer, that stands at gaze, skill.

Wildly determining which way to fly;

Or one incompast with a winding maze,
So she decp-drenched in a sea of care,

That cannot tread the way out readily :
Holds disputation with each thing the views; So with her self is the in putiny,
And to her self all sorrow doth compare,

To live or die, which of the twain were better, No object but her passions strength renews,

When life is sham'd, and death reproaches And as one shifts, another straight ensues.

debtor. Sometime her grief is dumb, and hath no words;

To kill ny felf, quoth she, alack! what were it, Sometime 'tis mad, and too much talk affords.

But with my body my poor soul's pollution?

They that lofe half, with greater patience bear it, The little birds, that tune their mornings joy, Than they whose whole is swallow'd in confusion, Make her moans mad with their sweet melody. That mother tries a merciless conclusion, For mirch doth search the bottom of annoy?

Who having two sweet babes, when death Sad souls are Nain in merry company;

takes one, Grief best is pleafʼd with grief's society.

Will flay the other, and be nurse to none. True sorrow then is feelingly surpriz'd, When with like scmblance it is sympathiz'd. My body, or my soul, which was the dearer,

When the one pure, the other madc divine ? "Tis double death to drown in ken of shore; Whose love of either to my self was nearer, He ten times pines, that pines beholding food :

When both were kept from heaven and Collatine? To see the salve doth make the wound ake more; Ay me! the bark pealid from the lofty pine, Great grief grieves most at that will do it good; His leaves will wither, and his fap decay; Deep woes roll forward like a gentle food,

So muft my soul, her bark being peal'd away. Which, being Itopt, the bounding banks o'erflows:

Her house is sack'd, her quiet interrupted; Grief dallied with, nor law, nor limit knows.

Her mansion batter'd by ihe enemy,

Her facred temple spotted, spoil'd, corrupted, You mocking birds, quoth she, your tunes intomb Grolly ingirt with infamy. Within your hollow swelling feather'd breasts; Then let it not be cail'd impicty, And in my hearing be you mute and dumb;

If in this blemish'd fort I make some hole, My reftief discord loves no stops nor rests:

Through which I may convey this troubled soul. A woeful hoftels brooks not merry guests.

Relith your minble notes to plealing cars, Yet die I will not, till my Collatine Distress likes dumps, when time is kept with Have heard the cause of my untinely death; tcars.

That he may vow, in ihat fad hour of mine,

Revenge on him, that made me stop my breath, Come Philomel, that fing's of ravishment, My Nained blood 10"Tarquin I'll bequcath, Make thy fad grove in my difhevel à hair :

Which by him tainted shall for him be spent, As the dank earth weeps at thy languishment, And as his duc, writ in my tetancat.

1

My honour I'll bequeatlı unto the knife,

Grieving themselves to guess at other fears: That wounds my body fo dithonoured :

And then they drown their eyes, or brea's le* "Tis honour to deprive difronour'd life;

hcarts. The one will live, the other being dead : So of Mame's aihes shall my fame be bred. For men have niarble, womeo waxen miers,

For in my death I murder shameful scorn; And therefore they are form'd as marble will: My shame fo dead, mine Honour is new born. The weak opprett, th'imprellion of strangt kind

Is form'd in them by force, by fraud, or iil. Dear lord of that dear Jewel I have lost !

Then call them not the authors of their ill, What legacy shall i bequeath to thee?

No more than wax shall be accounted evil, My resolution, love, shall be thy boast,

Wherein is ftampt the femblance of a devil. By whose example thou reveng'd may'st be : How Tarquin must be us’d, read it in me. Their smoothnefs, like a goodly champain plus, My self thy friend, will kill my self thy foe;

Lays open all the little worms that creep; And for my fake serve thou falle Tarquin so. In men, as in a rough-grown grove remain

Cave-keeping evils, that obscurely fleep; This brief abridgment of my will I make :

Through chrystal walls each little mote will per My soul and body to the tkies, and ground;

Tho' men can cover crimes with boid ... My resolution (Husband) do you take;

looks, Mine honour be the knife's, that makes my wound; Poor womens faces are their own faults boots My shame be his, that did my fane confound; And all my fame that lives, difpuriod be

No man inveigh against the wither'd flower, To those that live, and think no lhame of me.

But chides rough winter, that the flower baskiss

Nor that's devour'd, but that which doth dceros, Thou Collatine shall oversee this will,

ls worthy blame : 0) let it not be hild How was I overseen, that thou shalt see it?

Poor womens faults, that they are so {u.fiu'd My blood fhall walı the flander of mine ill;

With mens abuses; those proud lords to bl2r My life's foul deed, my life's fair end shall free it. Make weak-made women

tenarts to Faint not, faint heart, but foutly lay, lo be it;

shame. Yield to my hand, my hand thall conquer thee; Thou dead, both die, and both thall victors be.

The precedent whereof in Lucrece view,

Assail'd by night with circumftances freeg This plot of death when fadly she had laid,

Os present death and share that might erite, And wip'd the brinith pearl from her bright eyes ; By that her death to do her husband wror); With untun'd tongue the hoarsly call'd her maid, Such darger to resistance did beiong, Whose (wift obedience to her nutrets hies;

That dying fear through all her body (pr... For feet-wing'd duty with thought's feathers And who cannot abuse a body dead?

flies, Poor Lucrece' cheeks unto her maid seeni so,

By this mild patience bid fair Lucrece speak As winter meads, when sun doth melt their

To the poor Counterfeit of her complaicirz. Inow.

My girl, quo.h fe, on what occafion break

Thule tears from thee, that down the che " Her mistress she doth give demure good-morrow, raining? With fost flow tongue, true mark of modelty ; If thou dost weep for grief of my futairiss, And forts a fad look to her lady's forrow,

Know, genile wench, it imall avail my mind (for why, her face wore torrow's livery)

If tears could help, mine own would co s But durit not ask of her audacioufly,

goud. Wly her two suns were cloud-eclipsed so: Nor why her fair cheeks over-wash'd with woe.

But tell me, girl, when went (and there i'

faid But as the earth doth weep, the sun being set, Till after a deep gron) Tarquin from here! Lach flower moilten'd like a melting eye : Madam, e'er I was up (reply'd the maid ; Even so the niaid with swelling drops 'gan wet The more to blame my lluggard negligcoco : Her circled eyne, enforc'd by tynipathy

Yee with the fault Ithus far can disperde; Of those fair luns, fit in her mittreis' sky;

My self was firring e'er the break of way, Who in a falt-wav'd ocean queuch'd their light, And e'er I rose was Tarquin gone away, Which makes the maid weep like the dewy night.

But lady, if your maid may be so hold,

She would request to know your heavine's. A pretty while these pretty creatures stand,

peace! 'quoth Lucrece if it bould be tid, Like ivory conduits coral cisternis filling :

The repetition cannot make it less; One juítly weeps, the other takes in hand

For more it is than I can well expres: No caule, but company, of her drops fpilling; And that deep torture may be rail'd a heil, Their gentle fıx to weep are often willing; When more is felt

, than one hath power to leta

Do, get me hither paper, ink, and pen;

The homely villain currfies to her low, yet save that labour, for I have them here : And blushing on her with a fledfast eye, What should I say?) one of my husband's men Receives the scroll without or yea, or no, Zid thou be ready by and by, to bear

And forthwith bathful innocence doth his. 4 letter to my lord, my love, niy dear;

But they, whose guilt witbin their bofom lies, Bid him with speed prepare to carry it,

Imagine every eye beh. Ius their blame ; The cause craves halte, and it will soon be For Lucrece thought he bluth'd to see her writ.

shame.

Ier maid is gone, and the prepares to wri'e, When, filly groom (Cod wot) it was defect
irsk hovering o'er the paper with her quill; Of spirit, life, and bold audacity ;
Conceit and grief an eager combat fight,

Such harmless creatures have a true respect
What wit sets down is blotted straight with will; To talk in deeds, while others faucily
his is too curious good, this blunt and ill :. Promile more speed, bat do it leisurely :
Much like a prels of people at a door,

Even so this pattern of the worn-out age Throng her inventions, which shall go before. Pawn'd honeft looks, bat laid no words to

gage. t lar she thus begius : Thou, worthy lord f that unworthy wife, that greeteth thee; His kineled duty kindled her misirunt, kealth to thy perfon, next vouchsafe t'afford That two red fires in both their faces blaz'd. fever, love, thy Lucrece thou wilt see)

She thought he bluth'd as knowing Tarquin's (me present speed to come, and visit me.

1111, So I commend me from our house in grief; And blushing with him, wiftly on him gaz'd; My woes are tedious, tho'my words are brief.

Hor earnest eye did make him more amaz'd :

The riore she saw the blood his cheeks refere folds she up the tenor of her woe,

plenith, cr certain forrow writ uncertainly :

The more she thought he spy'd in her fume Ý this short schedule Cola ine may know

blemih, er grief but not her grief's true quality; le dares not thereof make discovery,

But long she thinks till he return again, Left he should hold it her own gross abuse, And yet the duteous vaflal scarce is gone; E'er the with blood had stain'd her firain's

The weary time she cannot entertain, excuse.

For now 'iis ftale to figh, to wecp, and groan;

So woe hath wearied woe, moan tired moan, fides, the life and feeling of her palliin

That the her plaints a little while doth Nay, e hords, to spend when he is by to hear her ;

Pausing for means to mourn some newer way. hen sighs, and

groans,

and tears may grace the futhion

At laft she calls to mind where hangs a piece her disgrace, the better so to clear her

Of ikilful painting made for Priam's Troy ; um that suspicion, which the world might bear Before the which is drawn the power of Greece, her :

For Helen's rape the ciry to destroy, To fhun this blot she would not blot the letter

Threarning cloud-kifing Ilion with annoy; With words, till action might become thein Which the conceited pain:er drew so proud, better.

As heaven (it seem’d) to kiss the turrets bow'd. see fad fights moves more, than hear them

A thousand lamentable objects there, told ;

In scorn of nature, art gave lifeless life : r then the cye interprets to the car

Many a dire drop seem'd a weeping tear ic heavy motion, that it doth behold :

Shed for the Naughter'd husband by the wife. hen every part a part of woe doth bear,

The red blood rcek'd to show the painter's strife, is but a part of sorrow that we hear.

And dying eyes gleam'd forth their ashy lights, Deep sounds make lefler noise, than thallow

Like dying coals burnt out in tedivus nights. furds; And forrow cbbs being blown with wind of | There might you see the labouring pioneer words.

Begrim'd with sweat, and smeared all with durt;

And from the towers of Troy there would appear or letter now is seal'd, and on it writ,

The very eyes of men thro' loop-holes thrust, · Ardea to my lord with more than haste;

Gazing upon the Grecks with little luft. je post attends, and the delivers it,

Such sweet obfervance in this work was had, sarging the four-fac'd groom to hie as fast,

That one might see those far-off eyes look sad. slagging fouls before the northern blat. Specd more than speed, but dull and duw The

In great commanders, grace and majesty, deerns ;

You might behold triumphing in their faces : Extremity fill urgeth such extremes,

In youth quick-bearing and dexterity:

And here and there the painter interlaces

Retire again, till meeting greater riski Pale cowards marching on with trembling paces ; They join, and thoot their fome a: Sisu Which heartless peasants did so well resemble

banks. That one would swear he saw them quake and tremble.

To this well-painted piece is Lucrece come

To find a face where all distress is fteli'd. In Ajax, and Ulysses, O! what are

Many she sees, where cares have carved for?, Of yhyfiognomy night one behold!

But none where all distress and dolour dweli'd, 'The face of either cypher'd either's heart; Till the despairing Hecuba beheld, Their face, their manners most expresy told. Staring on Priam's wounds with ber old 7% In Ajax' eyes blunt rage and rigor roll'd.

Which bleeding under Pirrhus' proud foxis But the mild glance that fly Ulysses lent, Shew'd deep regard, and failing government. In her the painter had anatomiz'd

Time's ruin, beauty's wreck, and grim carere There pleading night you see grave Nestor sand, Her cheeks with chaps and wrinkles auto As 'e were encouraging the Greeks to fight,

guis'd; Maki: g such fiber action with his hand,

Of what the was, no semblance did rendain; That it beguil'd attention, charin'd the light : Her blue blood chang'd to black in every voz. in speech it seem'd, his beard all silver white, Wanting the spring, that those Mrunk pipes bá Wagg'd up and down, and from his lips did fly

fed, Thin winding breath, which purl'd up to the Shew'd life imprison'd in a body dead. íky.

On this sad shadow Lucrece spends her cres, About him were a press of gaping faces,

And thapes her fortow to the beldam's woes; Which seem’d to swallow up his sound advice; Who nothing wants to answer her bue crios, All j intly listning, but with several graces, And bitter words to ban her ctuc focs. As if some mermaid did their ears entice ;

The painter was no god to lend her those; Some high, some low, the painter was so nice. And therefore Lucrece swears be se The scalps of many almost hid behind,

wrong, To jump up higher seem'd to mock the mind. To give her so much grief, and not a toege Here one man's hand lean'd on another's head, Poor Instrument (quoth the) without a food! His nole bcing Nadow'd by his neighbour's car; I'll tune thy woes with my lamenting tooge, Here one being throng'd bears back all blown and And drop sweet balm in Priam's painted red;

And rail on Pyrrhus, that hath done him ve Another mother'd, seems to pelt and swear ; And with my tears quench Troy, that bor And in their rage, (such signs of rage they bear), long; As but for lots of Neitor's goiden words,

And with my knife fcracht out the angry It leem'u they would debate with angry swords. Of all the Greeks, that are thine coemies. Vor much imaginary work was there ;

Shew me the frumpct, that began this ttir, Conceit deceitful, so compa& fo kind,

That with my pails her beauty I may tear. That for Achilles’in age flood his fpear,

Thy heat of luft, fond Paris did incur Grip'd in an armed hand, himself behind

This load of wrath, that burning Troy did bem Was left unseen, lave to the eye of mind;

Thy cye kindled the fire that bui neth here: A hand, a foot, a iace, a leg, a head,

And here in Troy, for trespais of think ere, Stood for the whole so be imagined.

The fire, the son, the dame, and daugkeer And from the walls of Irong-besieged Troy, Why should the private pleasure of some x When their brave hope, bold Hector march'd to Become the public plague of many moe? field,

Let sin alone committed, light alone Stood many Trojan morhers, sharing joy

Upon his head, that hath trarsgrelle i fo.
To fue their youthful funs bright weapons wield; | Let guiltless fouls be freed frem guilty woe.
And to their hope they such odd adion yield, For one's offence why should so many lalo

That thro' their light joy seemed to appear, To plague a private fin in general?
(Like bright things ftain'd) a kind of heavy
fear.

Lo! here weeps Hecuba, here Priam dies!

Here manly Hector faints, here Troias 1 And from the strond of Dardan, where they Here friend by friend in bloody channei azt! fought,

And friend to friend gives unadvila To Simois' recdy banks, the red blood ran; And one man's luft these many lives cures Whose waves to imitate the bartel fought

Had dotting Priam check'd his son's dear With Iwelling ridges; and their ranks began

Troy had been bright with fame, and it To break upon the galled fore, and than

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e feelingly she weeps Troys painted woes : With inward vice ; 'as Priam him did cherish, forrow, like a heavy hanging bell,

So did I Tarquin, fo my 'Troy did perish. ce set on ringing, with his own weight goes ; n little strength rings out the doleful knell. Look, look how listning Priam wets his eyes Lucrece set a work, lad tales doth telt

To see those borrow'd tears, that Sinon sheds ! o pencil'd pensiveness, and colour'd sorrow; Priam, why art thou old, and yet not wise ? he lends them words, and the their looks doth For every tear he falls, a Trojan bleeds : borrow.

His eye drop tire, no wa:er thence proceeds. [pity,

Those round clear pearls of his that move thy throws her eyes about the pain ing round, Are balls of quenchless fire to burn thy city, I whom she finds forlorn she doth lament. Salt the fees a wretched image bound,

Such devils steal effects from lightless hell; t piteous looks to Phrygian shepherds lent; For Sinon in his fire doth quake with cold, face cho' full of cares, yet shew'd content. And in that cold hot-burning fire doch dwell; nward to froy with these blunt fwains he These contraries such unity do hold, goes,

Only to flatter Fools and make them bold : o mild, that patience seem'd to scorn his woes. Só Priam's trust talle Sinons tears doch flatter,

That he finds means to burn his Troy with him the painter labour'd with his skill, hide deceit, and give the harmless show, humble gait, calm books, eyes wailing still, Here all enrag'd such passion her assails, row unbent, that seem'd to welcome woe; That patience is quite beaten from her breast; eks, neither red, nor pale, but mingled so, She tears the lenseless Sinon with her nails, Chat blushing red no guilty inttar.ce gave, Comparing him to that unhappy guest, Nor aihy pale, tbe fair that false hearts have. Whofe decd hath made herfelf, heríelf detest.

At last she smilingly with this gives o'er, , like a constant and confi med devil,

Fool! fool! quoth she, his wounds will not be entertain'd a show so seeming just;

sore. I therein fo inícolic'i his fecret evil, te jealousy itself could not mittrust,

Thus ebbs and flows the current of her forrow, e creeping craft and perjury shou thruft And time do

weary time with her complaining to so bright a day ruch black-fac'd storms, She looks for night, and then she longs for more Ir blos with hello born fin such saint-like forms.

row,

And both the thinks too long with her remaining; well-skill'd workman this mild image drew Short time seems long, in forrows tharp fullainperjur'd Sinon, whose inchanting Rory

ing credulous old Priam after ficw; (glory Tho' w. e be heavy, yet it feldom seeps, ose words like wild-fire burnt the shining And they that watch, fee time how slow it ich-built Mion, that the skies were sorry.

creeps. and little stars shot from their fixed places, Vhen their glafs fell wherein they view'd their Which all this time hath over-slipe her thought, faces.

That the with painred images hath frent,

Being from the feeling of her own grief brought, S pidure she advisedly perus'd,

By deep surmile of others detriment, Ichid the painter for his wondrous skill : Loting her wocs in thews of discontent. ing, fome shape in Sinon's was abus'd,

It caleth some, tho' none it ever cur’d, air a form lidg'd not a mind so ill.

To think their doluur others have endur'd. 1 ftill on him the g.z’d, and gazing fill, uch figns of tru h in his plain face the fpied, But now the mindful messenger comes, back, Chat the concludes, the picture was belied. Brings home his lord, and other company;

Who finds his Lucrece clad in mourning black, annot be (quoth the) that so much guile, And round about her tear.diftained eye

would have said, can lurk in such a look ; Biue circies fircam'd, like rainbows in the by. Tarquin's shape came in her mind the while, These watergalls in her dim element, I from her tongue, can lurk, fron cannot,

Foretell new storms to those already spent. annot be, the in that senfe forfook, took: End turn'd ie thus, It cannot be I find.

Which when her fad-heholding husband faw, Sut such a face thould bear a wicked mind. Amazedly in her sad face he stares :

Her eyes though sod in tears, louk red, and raw, c'en as subtle Sinon here is painted,

Her lively colour kill'd with deadly cares. Fober lad, fo weary and io mild,

He hath no power to ask her how she fares : - if with grief or travel he had fainted)

But stood like old acquaintance in a trance, me came Tarquin armed, so beguil'd

Met far from home, wondring each other's Eh outward horosty, but yet de fild

chance.

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