Page:Shakespeare Collection of Poems.djvu/94

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82
The Rape of Lucrece.
To soften it with their continual motion:
For stones dissolv'd, to Water doe convert.
Or if no harder than a stone thou art,
Melt at my teares and be compassionate,
Soft pity enters at an iron gate.

In Tarquins likeness I did entertain thee,
Hast thou put on his Shape to do him shame?
To all the host of Heaven I complain me,
Thou wrongst his honor, woundst his princely name,
Thou art not what thou seem'st; and if the same,
Thou seem'st not what thou art, a God, a King?
For Kings like Gods should govern every thing.

How will thy shame be seeded in thine age,
When thus thy vices bud before thy spring?
If in thy hope thou dar'st do such outrage,
What dar'd thou not when once thou art a King?
O be remembred, no outragious thing
From vassal Actors can he wipt away
Then Kings misdeeds cannot be hid in clay.

This deed shall make thee only lov'd for feare,
But happy Monarchs still are fear'd for love:
With foul offenders thou perforce must beare,
When they in thee the like offences prove:
If but for fear of this, thy will remove.
For Princes are the glasse, the school, the booke,
Where Subjects eyes do learn, do read, do looke.

And