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LUCRECE.

(WRITTEN ABOUT 1593-4.)

66

INTRODUCTION.

Lucrece was entered in the Stationers' register May 9, 1594, and was published the same year. Like the Venus and Adonis, it is dedicated to the Earl of Southampton, having been perhaps the graver labor" promised in the dedication of that poem. The two poems resemble each other in several respects, especially in the detailed description style, which draws out at length the particulars of a scene, an incident, or an emotion. The poem of later date, however, exhibits far less immaturity than does the "first heire" of Shakespeare's invention. Part of this may be due to the fact that the subject is deeper and more passionate instead of the enamored Venus we have here the pure and noble Lucretia; instead of the boy Adonis, the powerful figure of the evil Tarquin. Lucrece was highly admired by Shakespeare's contemporaries, and was several times republished, though less often than the Venus. The story of Lucretia is told by Livy and Ovid, and was versified by Gower, and again related in Paynter's Palace of Pleasure, 1567.

TO THE

RIGHT HONORABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY,

EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, AND BARON OF TICHFIELD.

THE love I dedicate to your lordship is without end; whereof this pamphlet, without beginning, is but a superfluous moiety. The warrant I have of your honorable disposition, not the worth of my untutored lines, makes it assured of acceptance. What I have done is yours; what I have to do is yours; being part in all I have, devoted yours. Were my worth greater, my duty would show greater meantime, as it is, it is bound to your lordship, to whom I wish long life, still lengthened with all happiness.

Your lordship's in all duty,

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

THE ARGUMENT.

LUCIUS TARQUINIUS, for his excessive pride surnamed Superbus, after he had caused his own father-in-law Servius Tullius to be cruelly murdered, and, contrary to the Roman laws and customs, not requiring or staying for the people's suffrages, had possessed himself of the kingdom, went, accompanied with his sons and other hoblemer of Rome, to besiege Ardea. During which siege the principal men of the army meeting one evening at the tent of Sextus Tarquinius, the king's son, in their discourses after supper every one commended the virtues of his own wife: among whom Collatinus extolled the incomparable chastity of his wife Lucretia. In that pleasant humor they all posted to Rome; and intending, by their secret and sudden arrival, to make trial of that which every one had before avouched, only Collatinus finds his wife, though it were late in the night, spinning amongst her maids: the other ladies were all found dancing and revelling, or in several disports. Whereupon the noblemen yielded Collatinus the victory, and his wife the fanc. At that time Sextus Tarquinius being inflamed with Lucrece' beauty, yet smothering his passions for the present, departed with the rest back to the camp: from whence he shortly after privily withdrew himself, and was, according to his estate, royally entertained and lodged by Lucrece at Collatium. The same night he treacherously stealeth into her chamber, violently ravished her, and early in the morning speedeth away. Lucrece, in this lamentable plight, hastily dispatcheth messengers, one to Rome for her father, another to the camp for Collatine. They came, the one accompanied with Junius Brutus, the other with Publius Valerius; and finding Lucrece attired in mourning habit, demanded the cause of her sorrow. She, first taking an oath of them for her revenge, revealed the actor, and whole manner of his dealing, and withal suddenly stabbed herself. Which done, with one consent they all vowed to root out the whole hated family of the Tarquins; and bearing the dead body to Rome, Brutus acquainted the people with the doer and manner of the vile deed, with a bitter invective against the tyranny of the king: wherewith the people were so moved, that with one consent and a general acclamation the Tarquins were all exiled, and the state government changed from kings to consuls.

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,

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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.

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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

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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 :

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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:

130

Despair to gain doth traffic oft for gaining; 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 pos

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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,

180

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 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

'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

'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?

If Collatinus dream of my intent, Will he not wake, and in a desperate rage Post hither, this vile purpose to prevent? 220 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;

229

And extreme fear can neither fight nor fly, 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.

'Shameful it is; ay, if the fact be known:
Hateful it is; there is no hate in loving: 240
I'll beg her love; but she is not her own :
The worst is but denial and reproving:
My will is strong, past reason's weak removing.
Who fears a sentence or an old man's saw
Shail by a painted cloth be kept in awe.

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 confound 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.
0, 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, Forced it to tremble with her loyal fear! 261 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.

Why hunt I then for color or excuses? All orators are dumb when beauty pleadeth; Poor wretches have remorse in poor abuses; Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth: 270

Affection is my captatu, and he leadeth ;
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
280
lies ? '
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 self-same seat sits Collatine : That eye which looks on her confounds his wits: 290

That eye which him beholds, as more divine. Unto a view so false will not incline;

300

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; But, as they open, they all rate his ill, Which drives the creeping thief to some regard: The threshold grates the door to have him heard;

Night-wandering weasels shriek to see him there;

They fright him, yet he still pursues his fear. As each unwilling portal yields him way, 309 Through little vents and crannies of the place The wind wars with his torch to make him

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As who should say 'This glove to wanton

tricks

320 Is not inured; return again in haste; Thou see'st our mistress' ornaments are chaste.'

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, Like little frosts that sometime threat the spring, 331

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, high 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,

340

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

That his foul thoughts might compass, his fair 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: 360

Thus treason works ere traitors be espied.
Who sees the lurking serpent steps aside;
But she, sound sleeping, fearing no such
thing,

Lies at the mercy of his mortal sting.
Into the chamber wickedly he stalks,
And gazeth on her yet unstained bed.
The curtains being close, about he walks,

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Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under,
Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss ;
Who, therefore angry, seems to part in
sunder,

389

Swelling on either side to want his bliss;
Between whose hills her head entombed is :
Where, like a virtuous monument, she lies,
To be admired of lewd unhallow'd eyes.
Without the bed her other fair hand was,
On the green coverlet; whose perfect white
Show'd like an April daisy on the grass,
With pearly sweat, resembling dew of night.
Her eyes, like marigolds, had sheathed their
light,

And canopied in darkness sweetly lay,
Till they might open to adorn the day.
Her hair, like golden threads, play'd with her
breath;

400

O modest wantons! wanton modesty !
Showing life's triumph in the map of death,
And death's dim look in life's mortality:
Each in her sleep themselves so beautify,
As if between them twain there were no
strife,

But that life lived in death, and death in life.

Her breasts, like ivory globes circled with blue,

A pair of maiden worlds unconquered,
Save of their lord no bearing yoke they knew.
And him by oath they truly honored. 410
These worlds in Tarquin new ambition bred;
Who, like a foul usurper, went about
From this fair throne to heave the owner

out.

What could he see but mightily he noted? What did he note but strongly he desired?

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