Trifles, unwitnessed with eye or ear, Thy coward heart with false bethinking grieves.'

Even at this word she hears a merry horn, Whereat she leaps that was but late forlorn. As falcon to the lure, away she flies; The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light; And in her haste unfortunately spies 1029 The foul boar's conquest on her fair delight; Which seen, her eyes, as murder'd with the view, [drew;

Like stars ashamed of day, themselves withOr, as the snail, whose tender horns being hit, Shrinks backward in his shelly cave with pain,

And there, all smother'd up, in shade doth sit,

Long after fearing to creep forth again;

So, at his bloody view, her eyes are fled Into the deep dark cabins of her head: Where they resign their office and their light To the aisposing of her troubled brain; 1040 Who bids them still consort with ugly night, And never wound the heart with looks again; Who, like a king perplexed in his throne, By their suggestion gives a deadly groan, Whereat each tributary subject quakes; As when the wind, imprison'd in the ground, Struggling for passage, earth's foundation shakes,

Which with cold terror doth men's minds confound.

This mutiny each part doth so surprise That from their dark beds once more leap 1050

her eyes;

And, being open'd, threw unwilling light Upon the wide wound that the boar had trench'd

In his soft flank whose wonted lily white With purple tears, that his wound wept, was drench'd:

No flower was nigh, no grass, herb, leaf, or weed,

But stole his blood and seem'd with him to bleed.

This solemn sympathy poor Venus noteth ; Over one shoulder doth she hang her head; Dumbly she passions, franticly she doteth; She thinks he could not die, he is not dead : Her voice is stopt, her joints forget to bow Her eyes are mad that they have wept till

now.

Upon his hurt she looks so steadfastly, That her sight dazzling makes the wound seem three :

And then she reprehends her mangling eye, That makes more gashes where no breach should be:

His face seems twain, each several limb is doubled;

For oft the eye mistakes, the brain being troubled.

My sighs are blown away, my salt tears gone, Mine eyes are turn'd to fire, iny heart to lead: Heavy heart's lead, melt at mine eyes' rel fire!

So shall I die by drops of hot desire.

'Alas, poor world, what treasure hast thou lost!

What face remains alive that's worth the viewing?

Whose tongue is music now? what canst thou boast

Of things long since, or any thing ensuing ? The flowers are sweet, their colors fresh and trim;

But true-sweet beauty lived and died with him. 1080

''Tis true, 'tis true; thus was Adonis slain : He ran 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 nuzzling 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;

1119

But he is dead, and never did he bless
My youth with his; the more am I accurst.'
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;
Their virtue lost, wherein they late excell'd,
And every beauty robb'd of his effect:

'Wonder of time,' quoth she, this is my spite,

That, thou being dead, the day should yet be light.

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 1140

woe.

Perverse it shall 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, chequer'd with
white,

Resembling well his pale cheeks and the blood

Which in round drops upon their whiteness stood.

She bows her head, the new-sprung flower to smell,

1171

Comparing it to her Adonis' breath,
And says, within her bosom it shall dwell,
Since he himself is reft from her by death:
She crops the stalk, and in the breach ap-

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

10

Haply that name of 'chaste' unhappily set
This bateless edge on his keen appetite;
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.

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,

19

That kings might be espoused to more fame,
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.

That golden hap which their superiors want. But some untimely thought did instigate His all-too-timeless speed, if none of those : His honor, his affairs, his friends, his state, Neglected all, with swift intent he goes To quench the coal which in his liver glows.

O`rash false heat, wrapp'd in repentant cold, Thy hasty spring still blasts, and ne'er grows old!

When at Collatium this false lord arrived, 50 Well was he welcomed by the Roman dame, Within whose face beauty and virtue strived Which of them both should underprop her fame :

When virtue bragg'd, beauty would blush for shame ;

When beauty boasted blushes, in despite Virtue would stain that o'er with silver white.

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 60 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.

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.
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

71

To those two armies that would let him go, Rather than triumph in so false a foe.

Now thinks he that her husband's shallow tongue,

The niggard prodigal that praised her so,-
In that high task hath done her beauty wrong,
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,
Whose inward ill no outward harm ex-
press'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 something too much wonder of his eye,
Which, having all, all could not satisfy;

91

But, poorly rich, so wanteth in his store, That, cloy'd with much, he pineth still for

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,

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,
When he himself himself confounds, betrays
To slanderous tongues and wretched hateful
days?
161

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 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,

180

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 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 snowwhite weed.

200

6 '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 bin. 210