Their virtue lost, wherein they late excell'd, And every beauty robb'd of his effect:

you:

But when Adonis lived, sun and sharp air
Lurk'd like two thieves, to rob him of his fair:

'And therefore would he put his bonnet on,
Under whose brim the gaudy sun would peep:
The wind would blow it off and, being gone,
Play with his locks: then would Adonis weep;
And straight, in pity of his tender
They both would strive who first should dry

his tears.

years, 1091

To see his face the lion walk'd along Behind some hedge, because he would not fear him;

To recreate himself when he hath sung,
The tiger would be tame and gently hear him;
If he had spoke, the wolf would leave his prey
And never fright the silly lamb that day.
"When he beheld his shadow in the brook,
The fishes spread on it their golden gills: 1100
When he was by, the birds such pleasure took,
That some would sing, some other in their bills
Would bring him mulberries and ripe-red cher-
Iries
Hefed them with his sight, they him with ber-
But this foul, grim, and urchin-snouted boar,
Whose downward eye still looketh for a grave,
Ne'er saw the beauteous livery that he wore:
Witness the entertainment that he gave:

ries;

If he did see his face, why then I know He thought to kiss him, and hath kill'd him so. "Tis true; 'tis true; thus was Adonis slain: 11II Heran upon the boar with his sharp spear, Who did not whet his teeth at him again, But by a kiss thought to persuade him there; And muzzling in his flank, the loving swine Sheathed unaware the tusk in his soft groin. Had I been tooth'd like him, I must confess, With kissing him I should have kill'd him first; But he is dead, and never did he bless My youth with his; the more am I accurst.' 1120 With this, she falleth in the place she stood, And stains her face with his congealed blood. She looks upon his lips, and they are pale: She takes him by the hand, and that is cold; She whispers in his ears a heavy tale, As if they heard the woeful words she told; She lifts the coffer-lids that close his eyes, Where, lo, two lamps, burnt out, in darkness

lies;

Two glasses, where herself herself beheld
A thousand times, and now no more reflect; 1130

Wonder of time,' quoth she, 'this is my spite, That, thou being dead, the day should yet be

light.

1139

Since thou art dead, lo, here I prophesy: Sorrow on love hereafter shall attend: It shall be waited on with jealousy, Find sweet beginning, but unsavory end, Ne'er settled equally, but high or low, That all love's pleasure shall not match his woe shall be fickle, false and full of fraud, Bud and be blasted in a breathing-while: The bottom poison, and the top o'erstraw'd With sweets that shall the truest sight beguile: The strongest body shall it make most weak, Strike the wise dumb and teach the fool to

speak.

'It shall be sparing and too full of riot, Teaching decrepit age to tread the measures; The staring ruffian shall it keep in quiet, Pluck down the rich, enrich the poor with treas1150

ures;

It shall be raging-mad and silly-mild,
Make the young old, the old become a child.
It shall suspect where is no cause of fear;
It shall not fear where it should most mistrust;

It shall be merciful and too severe,
And most deceiving when it seems most just;
Perverseitshall be where it shows most toward,
Put fear to valor, courage to the coward.
'It shall be cause of war and dire events,
And set dissension 'twixt the son and sire; 1160
Subject and servile to all discontents,
As dry combustious matter is to fire:

Sith in his prime Death doth my love destroy,
They that love best their loves shall not enjoy."
By this, the boy that by her side lay kill'd
Was melted like a vapor from her sight,
And in his blood that on the ground lay spill'd
A purple flower sprung up, checker'd with white,
Resembling well his pale cheeks and the blood
Which in round drops upon their whiteness
stood.

1170

For he the night before, in Tarquin's tent,
Unlock'd the treasure of his happy state;
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, 20
But king nor peer to such a peerless dame.

O happiness enjoy'd but of a few!
And, if possess'd, as soon decay'd and done
As is the morning's silver-melting dew
Against the golden splendor of the sun!
An expired date, cancell'd ere well begun:
Honor and beauty, in the owner's arms,
Are weakly fortress'd from a world of harms.

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?
Or why is Collatine the publisher

Of that rich jewel he should keep unknown
From thievish ears, because it is his own?

30

60

But beauty, in that white intituled,
From Venus doves doth challenge that fair field:
Then virtue claims from beauty beauty's red,
Which virtue gave the golden age to gild
Their silver cheeks, and call'd it then their shield;
Teaching them thus to use it in the fight,
When shame assailed, the red should fence
the white.

This heraldry in Lucrece' face was seen,
Argued by beauty's red and virtue's white:
Of either's color was the other queen,
Proving from world's minority their right:
Yet their ambition makes them still to fight;
The sovereignty of either being so great,
That oft they interchange each other's seat. 70
Their silent war of lilies and of roses,
Which Tarquin view'd in her fair face's field,

In their pure ranks his traitor eye encloses:
Where, lest between them both it should be kill'd,
The coward captive vanquished doth yield
To those two armies that would let him go,
Rather than triumph in so false a foe.
Nowthinks he that her husband's shallowtongue,
The niggard prodigal that praised her so,—
In that high task hath done her beauty wrong,80
Which far exceeds his barren skill to show:
Therefore that praise which Collatine doth owe
Enchanted Tarquin answers with surmise,
In silent wonder of still-gazing eyes.

This earthly saint, adored by this devil,
Little suspecteth the false worshipper;
For unstain'd thoughts do seldom dream on evil;
Birds never limed no secret bushes fear:
So guiltless she securely gives good cheer

And reverend welcome to her princely guest,90
Whose inward ill no outward harm express'd:
For that he color'd with his high estate,
Hiding base sin in plaits of majesty:
That nothing in him seem'd inordinate,
Save sometime too much wonder of his eye,
Which, having all, all could not satisfy:

But, poorly rich, so wanteth in his store, That,cloy'd with much, he pineth still for more. But she, that never coped 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: She touch'd no unknown baits, nor fear'd no hooks;

ΙΟΙ

Nor could she moralize his wanton sight, More than his eyes were open'd to the light. 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 With bruised arms and wreaths of victory: Herjoy with heaved-up hand she doth express, And, wordless, so greets heaven for his success. 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: Till sable Night, mother of Dread and Fear, Upon the world dim darkness doth display, And in her vaulty prison stows the Day. For then is Tarquin brought unto his bed, 120 Intending weariness with heavy spright; For, after supper, long he questioned With modest Lucrece, and wore out the night: 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.

As one of which doth Tarquin lie revolving
The sundry dangers of his will's obtaining,
Yet ever to obtain his will resolving,
Though weak-built hopes persuade him to ab-
staining:
Despair to gain doth traffic oft for gaining;

130

And when great treasure is the meed proposed, Though death be adjunct, there's no death supposed.

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. 140

The aim of all is but to nurse the life
With honor, 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;
As life for honor in fell battle's rage;

Honor for wealth; and oft that wealth doth cost

The death of all, and all together lost.

So that in venturing 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
Of that we have: so then we do neglect

150

The thing we have; and, all for want of wit, Make something nothing by augmenting it.

Such hazard now must doting Tarquin make,
Pawning his honor to obtain his lust;

And for himself himself he must forsake:
Then where is truth, if there be no self-trust?
When shall he think to find a stranger just, 159
When he himself himself confounds, betrays
To slanderous tongues and wretched hateful
days?

Now stole upon the time the dead of night,
When heavy sleep had closed up mortal eyes:
No comfortable star did lend his light, cries;
No noise but owls' and wolves' death-boding
Now serves the season that they may surprise
The silly lambs: pure thoughts are dead and
still,

While lust and murder wake to stain and kill.

And now this lustful lord leap'd from his bed,
Throwing his mantle rudely o'er his arm; 170
Is madly toss'd between desire and dread;
Th' one sweetly flatters, th' other feareth harm:
But honest fear, bewitch'd with lust's foul charm,
Doth too too oft betake him to retire,
Beaten away by brain-sick rude desire.

His falchion on a flint he softly smiteth,
That from the cold stone sparks of fire do fly;
Whereat a waxen torch forthwith he lighteth,
Which must be lode-star to his lustful eye;
And to the flame thus speaks advisedly,

'As from this cold flint I enforced this fire,
So Lucrece must I force to my desire.'
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:
Then looking scornfully, he doth despise

180

His naked armor of still-slaughter'd lust, And justly thus controls his thoughts unjust: 'Fair torch, burn out thy light, and lend it not To darken her whose light excelleth thine: 191 And die, unhallow'd thoughts, before you blot With your uncleanness that which is divine; Offer pure incense to so pure a shrine: Let fair humanity abhor the deed

That spots and stains love's modest snow-white weed.

200

'O shame to knighthood and to shining arms!
O foul dishonor to my household's grave!
O impious act, including all foul harms!
A martial man to be soft fancy's slave!
True valor still a true respect should have;
Then my digression is so vile, so base,
That it will live engraven in my face.

'Yea, though I die, the scandal will survive,
And be an eye-sore in my golden coat;
Some loathsome dash the herald will contrive,
To cipher me how fondly I did dote;
That my posterity, shamed with the note,

Shall curse my bones, and hold it for no sin
To wish that I their father had not been. 210

'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?

For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy?
Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown,
Would with the sceptre straight be strucken
down?

220

'If Collatinus dream of my intent,
Will he not wake, and in a desperate rage
Post hither, this vile purpose to prevent?
This siege that hath engirt his marriage,
This blur to youth, this sorrow to the sage,
This dying virtue, this surviving shame,
Whose crime will bear an ever-during blame?

'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?
The guilt being great, the fear doth still exceed,
And extreme fear can neither fight not fly, 230
But coward-like with trembling terror die.
'Had Collatinus kill'd my son or sire,
Or lain in ambush to betray my life,
Or were he not my dear friend, this desire
Might have excuse to work upon his wife,
As in revenge or quittal of such strife:

But as he is my kinsman, my dear friend,
The shame and fault finds no excuse nor end.

Thus, graceless, holds he disputation
"Tween frozen conscience and hot-burning will,
And with good thoughts makes dispensation,
Urging the worser sense for vantage still;
Which in a moment doth confoun i and kill 250
All pure effects, and doth so far proceed,
That what is vile shows like a virtuous deed.

Quoth he, 'She took me kindly by the hand,
And gazed for tidings in my eager eyes,
Fearing some hard news from the warlike band,
Where her beloved Collatinus lies.
O, how her fear did make her color rise!
First red as roses that on lawn we lay,
Then white as lawn, the roses took away.

'And how her hand, in my hand being lock'd, 260
Forced it to tremble with her loyal fear!
Which struck her sad, and then it faster rock'd,
Until her husband's welfare she did hear;
Whereat she smiled with so sweet a cheer,

That had Narcissus seen her as she stood,
Self-love had never drown'd him in the flood.

And when his gaudy banner is display'd, The coward fights and will not be dismay'd.

"Then, childish fear, avaunt! debating, die! Respect and reason, wait on wrinkled age! My heart shall never countermand mine eye: Sad pause and deep regard beseem the sage; My part is youth, and beats these from the stage:

Desire my pilot is, beauty my prize;
Then who fears sinking where such treasure
lies?'
280

As corn o'ergrown by weeds, so heedful fear
Is almost choked by unresisted lust.
Away he steals with open listening ear,
Full of foul hope and full of fond mistrust,
Both which, as servitors to the unjust,

So cross him with their opposite persuasion,
That now he vows a league, and now invasion.

Within his thought her heavenly image sits,
And in the selfsame seat sits Collatine:
That eye which looks on her confounds his wits:
That eye which hin beholds, as more divine, 291
Unto a view so false will not incline:

But with a pure appeal seeks to the heart,
Which once corrupted takes the worser part;

And therein heartens up his servile powers,
Who, flatter'd by their leader's jocund show,
Stuff up his lust, as minutes fill up hours;
And as their captain, so their pride doth grow
Paying more slavish tribute than they owe.
By reprobate desire thus madly led,
The Roman lord marcheth to Lucrece' bed.
The locks between her chamber and his will,
Each one by him enforced, retires his ward;

300

But all these poor forbiddings could not stay him;
He in the worst sense construes their denial:
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.
'So, so,' quoth he, these lets attend the time, 330
Like little frosts that sometimes threat the spring,
To add a more rejoicing to the prime,
And give the sneaped birds more cause to sing
Pain pays the income of each precious thing:
Huge rocks, hign winds, strong pirates, shelves

and sands,

The merchant fears, ere rich at home he lands.'

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.
So from himself impiety hath wrought, 341

That for his prey to pray he doth begin,
As if the heavens should countenance his sin.

But in the midst of his unfruitful prayer,
Having solicited th' eternal power [fair,
That his foul thoughts might compass his fair
And they would stand auspicious to the hour,
Even there he starts: quoth he, I must deflower.
The powers to whom I pray abhor this fact,
How can they then assist me in the act? 350
'Then Love and Fortune be my gods, my guide!
My will is back'd with resolution:
Thoughts are but dreams till their effects be tried:
The blackest sin is clear'd with absolution;
Against love's fire fear's frost hath dissolution
The eye of heaven is out, and misty night
Covers the shame that follows sweet delight'
This said, his guilty hand pluck'd up the latch,
And with his knee the door he opens wide.
The dove sleeps fast that this night-owl will catch:
Thus treason works ere traitors be espied. 361
Who sees the lurking serpent steps aside;