As falcon to the lure, away she flies; And there, all smother'd up, in shade doth Where they resign their office and their light Whereat each tributary subject quakes ; Which with cold terror doth men's minds confound. This mutiny each part doth so surprise That from their dark beds once more leap her eyes; 1050 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 'My tongue cannot express my grief for one, And yet,' quoth she, behold two Adons dead! 1070 My sighs are blown away, my salt tears gone, Mine eyes are turn'd to fire, my 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 'To see his face the lion walk'd along To recreate himself when he hath sung, 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 cherries; He fed them with his sight, they him with berries. 'But this foul, grim, and urchin-snouted boar, Whose downward eye still looketh for a grave, so. 1110 first; She looks upon his lips, and they are pale; Two glasses, where herself herself beheld 'Wonder of time,' quoth she, 'this is my spite, That, thou being dead, the day should yet be light. 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, 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 white, Resembling well his pale cheeks and the blood 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, 'Poor flower,' quoth she, 'this was thy father's guiseSweet issue of a more sweet-smelling sire That all love's pleasure shall not match his For every little grief to wet his eyes: To grow unto himself was his desire, 'Here was thy father's bed, here in my breast; night: There shall not be one minute in an hour Wherein I will not kiss my sweet love's flow er.' Thus weary of the world, away she hies, 1189 And yokes her silver doves; by whose swift aid Their mistress mounted through the empty skies In her light chariot quickly is convey'd ; Holding their course to Paphos, where their queen Means to immure herself and not be seen. LUCRECE. (WRITTEN ABOUT 1593-4.) 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 noblemer 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 fame. 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. But some untimely thought did instigate When at Collatium this false lord arrived, 50 evil; Birds never limed no secret bushes fear: 91 For that he color'd with his high estate, more. But she, that never coped with stranger eyes, Could pick no meaning from their parling looks, 100 Nor read the subtle-shining secrecies Far from the purpose of his coming hither, And now this lustful lord leap'd from his bed, For then is Tarquin brought unto his bed, 120 Throwing his mantle rudely o'er his arm; 170 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. Is madly toss'd between desire and dread; Doth too too oft betake him to retire, His falchion on a flint he softly smiteth, 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 'Fair torch, burn out thy light, and lend it not Let fair humanity abhor the deed That spots and stains love's modest snowwhite weed. |