"Let him have time to tear his curled hair, 981
Let him have time against himself to rave,
Let him have time of Time's help to despair,
Let him have time to live a loathed slave,
Let him have time a beggar's orts to crave, 985
And time to see one that by alms doth live
Disdain to him disdained scraps to give.

"Let him have time to see his friends his foes,
And merry fools to mock at him resort;
Let him have time to mark how slow time goes
In time of sorrow, and how swift and short 991
His time of folly and his time of sport;

And ever let his unrecalling crime

Have time to wail the abusing of his time.

1025

"In vain I rail at Opportunity,
At Time, at Tarquin, and uncheerful Night;
In vain I cavil with mine infamy,
In vain I spurn at my confirm'd despite :
This helpless smoke of words doth me no right.
The remedy indeed to do me good
Is to let forth my foul defiled blood.

"Poor hand, why quiver'st thou at this decree?

Honour thyself to rid me of this shame;
For if I die, my honour lives in thee;
But if I live, thou liv'st in my defame.

1030

Since thou couldst not defend thy loyal dame,

Basely with gold, but stolen from forth thy gate.

For

me, I am the mistress of my fate, And with my trespass never will dispense, 1070 Till life to death acquit my forc'd offence.

"I will not poison thee with my attaint,
Nor fold my fault in cleanly-coin'd excuses;
My sable ground of sin I will not paint,

To hide the truth of this false night's abuses. 1075 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."

takes one,

Will slay the other and be nurse to none.

"My body or my soul, which was the dearer, When the one pure, the other made divine? Whose love of either to myself was nearer, When both were kept for Heaven and Collatine?

Ay 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.

"Her house is sack'd, her quiet interrupted.
Her mansion batter'd by the enemy;
Her sacred temple spotted, spoil'd, corrupted,
Grossly engirt with daring infamy:
Then let it not be call'd impiety,

If in this blemish'd fort Imake some hole 11 Through which I may convey this troubled soul.

"Madam, ere I was up," repli'd the maid, "The more to blame my sluggard negligence. Yet with the fault I thus far can dispense;

Myself was stirring ere the break of day, 1280 And, ere I rose, was Tarquin gone away.

86 But, lady, if your maid may be so bold,
She would request to know your heaviness."
"O, peace!" quoth Lucrece: "if it should be
told,

The repetition cannot make it less;
For more it is than I can well express,

1285

Her maid is gone, and she prepares to write,
First hovering o'er the paper with her quill.
Conceit and grief an eager combat fight;
What wit sets down is blotted straight with will;
This is too curious-good, this blunt and ill: 1300
Much like a press of people at a door,
Throng her inventions, which shall go before.

At last she thus begins: "Thou worthy lord
Of that unworthy wife that greeteth thee,
Health to thy person! Next vouchsafe to af-
ford-

If ever, love, thy Lucrece thou wilt see -
Some present speed to come and visit me.

1305

So, I commend me from our house in grief; My woes are tedious, though my words are brief."

Her letter now is seal'd, and on it writ, "At Ardea to my lord with more than haste." The post attends, and she delivers it, Charging the sour-fac'd groom to hie as fast As lagging fowls before the northern blast. 1935 Speed more than speed but dull and slow she deems:

Extremity still urgeth such extremes.

1340

The homely villain curtsies to her low;
And, blushing on her, with a steadfast eye
Receives the scroll without or yea or no,
And forth with bashful innocence doth hie.
But they whose guilt within their bosoms lie
Imagine every eye beholds their blame;
For Lucrece thought he blush'd to see her
shame,

When, silly groom! God wot, it was defect 1345
Of spirit, life, and bold audacity.
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 1350
Pawn'd honest looks, but laid no words to

plenish,

The more she thought he spied in her some blemish.

1.300

But long she thinks till he return again,
And yet the duteous vassal scarce is gone.
The weary time she cannot entertain,
For now 't is stale to sigh, to weep, and groan.
So woe hath wearied woe, moan tired moan,
That she her plaints a little while doth stay,
Pausing for means to mourn some newer