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, And girdle with embracing flames the waist 10 Haply that name of 'chaste' unhappily set 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, O happiness enjoy'd but of a few! 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, 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,— This earthly saint, adored by this devil, Birds never limed no secret bushes fear : 91 Far from the purpose of his coming hither, Upon the world dim darkness doth display, For then is Tarquin brought unto his bed, 120 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 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 Such hazard now must doting Tarquin make, Now stole upon the time the dead of night, 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, 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! Shall curse my bones, and hold it for no sin 'What win I, if I gain the thing I seek? For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy? 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, 'Shameful it is; ay, if the fact be known: Thus, graceless, holds he disputation Quoth he, 'She took me kindly by the hand, 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 ; Desire my pilot is, beauty my prize; 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 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; 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, 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, But in the midst of his unfruitful prayer, 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, My will is back'd with resolution: 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. Lies at the mercy of his mortal sting. Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under, 389 Swelling on either side to want his bliss; And canopied in darkness sweetly lay, 400 O modest wantons! wanton modesty ! But that life lived in death, and death in life. Her breasts, like ivory globes circled with blue, A pair of maiden worlds unconquered, out. What could he see but mightily he noted? What did he note but strongly he desired? |