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“ 0," quoth Lucretius, “ I did give that life, “ Which she too early and too late 57 hath spill’d.”
Woe, woe,” quoth Collatine, “ she was my wife, “ I ow'd her, and 'tis mine that she hath kill'd.” My daughter and my wife with clamours fill'd
The dispers'd air, who, holding Lucrece' life, Answer'd their cries, my daughter and my wife.
Brutus, who pluck'd the knife from Lucrece' side,
As silly jeering idiots are with kings,
But now he throws that shallow habit by,
“ Let my unsounded self, suppos’d a fool,
Why, Collatine, is woe the cure for woe? “ Do wounds help wounds, or grief help grievous
deeds? “ Is it revenge to give thyself a blow, “ For his foul act by whom thy fair wife bleeds ?
57 late] i.e. recently.
“Such childish humour from weak minds proceeds:
Thy wretched wife mistook the matter so, “ To slay herself, that should have slaiu her foe.
Courageous Roman, do not steep thy heart “ In such relenting dew of lamentations, “ But kneel with me, and help to bear thy part, “ To rouse our Roman gods with invocations, “ That they will suffer these abominations, * (Since Rome herself in them doth stand disgrac'd)
[chas'd. By our strong arms from forth her fair streets
“ Now, by the Capitol that we adore, “ And by this chaste blood so unjustly stain'd, By heaven's fair sun, that breeds the fat earth's
store, “ By all our country rights in Rome maintain'd, “ And by chaste Lucrece' soul that late complain'd
“ Her wrongs to us, and by this bloody knife, “ We will revenge the death of this true wife.”
This said, he struck his hand upon his breast,
And that deep vow which Brutus made before,
68 allow] i.e. approve,
When they had sworn to this advised doom,
The Romans plausibly 59 did give consent
59 plausibly] i.e. with acclamations.