The Rape of Lucrece.
85
Instead of loves coy touch shall rudely teare thee:
That done, despightfully I mean to bear thee
Unto the base bed of some rascal groome,
To be thy partner in this shameful doome.
That done, despightfully I mean to bear thee
Unto the base bed of some rascal groome,
To be thy partner in this shameful doome.
This said, he sets his foot upon the light,
For light and lust are deadly enemies:
Shame folded up in blind concealing night,
When most unseen, then most doth tyrannize.
The Wolf hath seiz'd his prey, the poor Lamb cries,
Till with her own white fleece her voice controld,
Intombs her outcry in her lips sweet fold:
For light and lust are deadly enemies:
Shame folded up in blind concealing night,
When most unseen, then most doth tyrannize.
The Wolf hath seiz'd his prey, the poor Lamb cries,
Till with her own white fleece her voice controld,
Intombs her outcry in her lips sweet fold:
For with the nightly linnen that she wears,
He pens her piteous clamors in her head,
Cooling his hot face in the chastest tears,
That ever modest eyes with sorrow shed.
O that foule lust should staine so pure a bed:
The spots whereof could weeping purifie;
Her teares should drop on them perpetually.
He pens her piteous clamors in her head,
Cooling his hot face in the chastest tears,
That ever modest eyes with sorrow shed.
O that foule lust should staine so pure a bed:
The spots whereof could weeping purifie;
Her teares should drop on them perpetually.
But she hath lost a dearer thing than life,
And he hath won what he would lose again:
This forced league doth force a further strife,
This momentary joy breeds moneths of pain,
This hot desire converts to cold disdain:
Pure Chastity is rifled of her store,
And lust, the thief, far poorer than before.
And he hath won what he would lose again:
This forced league doth force a further strife,
This momentary joy breeds moneths of pain,
This hot desire converts to cold disdain:
Pure Chastity is rifled of her store,
And lust, the thief, far poorer than before.
Look
