William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (122 page)
Read William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition Online
Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
13.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
The Rape of Lucrece
From the besieged Ardea all in post,
Borne by the trustless wings of false desire,
Lust-breathèd Tarquin leaves the Roman host
And to Collatium bears the lightless fire
Which, in pale embers hid, lurks to aspire
Borne by the trustless wings of false desire,
Lust-breathèd 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.
Haply that name of chaste unhapp’ly set
This bateless edge on his keen appetite,
When Collatine unwisely did not let
To praise the clear unmatched red and white
Which triumphed in that sky of his delight,
This bateless edge on his keen appetite,
When Collatine unwisely did not let
To praise the clear unmatched red and white
Which triumphed 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
Unlocked the treasure of his happy state,
What priceless wealth the heavens had him lent
In the possession of his beauteous mate,
Reck’ning his fortune at such high-proud rate
Unlocked the treasure of his happy state,
What priceless wealth the heavens had him lent
In the possession of his beauteous mate,
Reck’ning his fortune at such high-proud rate
That kings might be espoused to more fame,
But king nor peer to such a peerless dame.
O happiness enjoyed but of a few,
And, if possessed, as soon decayed and done
As is the morning’s silver melting dew
Against the golden splendour of the sun,
An expired date cancelled ere well begun!
And, if possessed, as soon decayed and done
As is the morning’s silver melting dew
Against the golden splendour of the sun,
An expired date cancelled ere well begun!
Honour and beauty in the owner’s arms
Are weakly fortressed from a world of harms.
Beauty itself doth of itself persuade
The eyes of men without an orator.
What needeth then apology be made
To set forth that which is so singular?
Or why is Collatine the publisher
The eyes of men without an orator.
What needeth then apology be made
To set forth that which is so singular?
Or why is Collatine the publisher
Of that rich jewel he should keep unknown
From thievish ears, because it is his own?
Perchance his boast of Lucrece’ sov’reignty
Suggested this proud issue of a king,
For by our ears our hearts oft tainted be.
Perchance that envy of so rich a thing,
Braving compare, disdainfully did sting
Suggested this proud issue of a king,
For by our ears our hearts oft tainted be.
Perchance that envy of so rich a thing,
Braving compare, disdainfully did sting
His high-pitched thoughts, that meaner men should vaunt
That golden hap which their superiors want.
But some untimely thought did instigate
His all-too-timeless speed, if none of those.
His honour, his affairs, his friends, his state
Neglected all, with swift intent he goes
To quench the coal which in his liver glows.
His all-too-timeless speed, if none of those.
His honour, 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, wrapped in repentant cold,
Thy hasty spring still blasts and ne’er grows old!
When at Collatium this false lord arrived,
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 bragged, beauty would blush for shame;
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 bragged, beauty would blush for shame;
When beauty boasted blushes, in despite
Virtue would stain that or with silver white.
But beauty, in that white entitulèd
From Venus’ doves, doth challenge that fair field.
Then virtue claims from beauty beauty’s red,
Which virtue gave the golden age to gild
Their silver cheeks, and called it then their shield,
From Venus’ doves, doth challenge that fair field.
Then virtue claims from beauty beauty’s red,
Which virtue gave the golden age to gild
Their silver cheeks, and called it then their shield,
Teaching them thus to use it in the fight:
When shame assailed, 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 colour was the other queen,
Proving from world’s minority their right.
Yet their ambition makes them still to fight,
Argued by beauty’s red and virtue’s white.
Of either’s colour 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.
This silent war of lilies and of roses
Which Tarquin viewed in her fair face’s field
In their pure ranks his traitor eye encloses,
Where, lest between them both it should be killed,
The coward captive vanquished doth yield
Which Tarquin viewed in her fair face’s field
In their pure ranks his traitor eye encloses,
Where, lest between them both it should be killed,
The coward captive vanquished doth yield
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
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 unstained thoughts do seldom dream on evil.
Birds never limed no secret bushes fear,
So guiltless she securely gives good cheer
Little suspecteth the false worshipper,
For unstained thoughts do seldom dream on evil.
Birds never limed no secret bushes fear,
So guiltless she securely gives good cheer
And reverent welcome to her princely guest,
Whose inward ill no outward harm expressed,
For that he coloured with his high estate,
Hiding base sin in pleats of majesty,
That nothing in him seemed inordinate
Save sometime too much wonder of his eye,
Which, having all, all could not satisfy,
Hiding base sin in pleats of majesty,
That nothing in him seemed inordinate
Save sometime too much wonder of his eye,
Which, having all, all could not satisfy,
But poorly rich so wanteth in his store
That, cloyed with much, he pineth still for more.
But she that never coped with stranger eyes
Could pick no meaning from their parling looks,
Nor read the subtle shining secrecies
Writ in the glassy margins of such books.
She touched no unknown baits nor feared no hooks,
Could pick no meaning from their parling looks,
Nor read the subtle shining secrecies
Writ in the glassy margins of such books.
She touched no unknown baits nor feared no hooks,
Nor could she moralize his wanton sight
More than his eyes were opened to the light.
He stories to her ears her husband’s fame
Won in the fields of fruitful Italy,
And decks with praises Collatine’s high name
Made glorious by his manly chivalry
With bruised arms and wreaths of victory.
Won in the fields of fruitful Italy,
And decks with praises Collatine’s high name
Made glorious by his manly chivalry
With bruised arms and wreaths of victory.
Her joy with heaved-up hand she doth express,
And wordless so greets heaven for his success.
Far from the purpose of his coming thither
He makes excuses for his being there.
No cloudy show of stormy blust’ring weather
Doth yet in his fair welkin once appear
Till sable night, mother of dread and fear,
He makes excuses for his being there.
No cloudy show of stormy blust’ring 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,
Intending weariness with heavy sprite;
For after supper long he questioned
With modest Lucrece, and wore out the night.
Now leaden slumber with life’s strength doth fight,
Intending weariness with heavy sprite;
For after supper long he questioned
With modest Lucrece, and wore out the night.
Now leaden slumber with life’s strength doth fight,
And everyone to rest himself betakes
Save thieves, and cares, and troubled minds that
wakes.
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 abstaining.
Despair to gain doth traffic oft for gaining,
The sundry dangers of his will’s obtaining,
Yet ever to obtain his will resolving,
Though weak-built hopes persuade him to abstaining.
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
That what they have not, that which they possess,
They scatter and unloose it from their bond,
And so by hoping more they have but less,
Or, gaining more, the profit of excess
That what they have not, that which they possess,
They scatter and unloose it from their bond,
And so by hoping more they have but less,
Or, gaining more, the profit of excess
Is but to surfeit and such griefs sustain
That they prove bankrupt in this poor-rich gain.
The aim of all is but to nurse the life
With honour, wealth, and ease in waning age,
And in this aim there is such thwarting strife
That one for all, or all for one, we gage,
As life for honour in fell battle’s rage,
With honour, wealth, and ease in waning age,
And in this aim there is such thwarting strife
That one for all, or all for one, we gage,
As life for honour in fell battle’s rage,
Honour for wealth; and oft that wealth doth cost
The death of all, and all together lost.
So that, in vent’ring ill, we leave to be
The things we are for that which we expect,
And this ambitious foul infirmity
In having much, torments us with defect
Of that we have; so then we do neglect
The things we are for that which we expect,
And this ambitious foul infirmity
In having much, torments us with defect
Of that we have; so then we do neglect
The thing we have, and all for want of wit
Make something nothing by augmenting
it.
Such hazard now must doting Tarquin make,
Pawning his honour 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
Pawning his honour 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 sland’rous tongues and wretched hateful days?
To sland’rous tongues and wretched hateful days?
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
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 wakes to stain and kill.
And now this lustful lord leapt from his bed,
Throwing his mantle rudely o‘er his arm,
Is madly tossed between desire and dread.
Th’one sweetly flatters, th’other feareth harm,
But honest fear, bewitched with lust’s foul charm,
Throwing his mantle rudely o‘er his arm,
Is madly tossed between desire and dread.
Th’one sweetly flatters, th’other feareth harm,
But honest fear, bewitched with lust’s foul charm,
Doth too-too oft betake him to retire,
Beaten away by brainsick 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 lodestar to his lustful eye,
And to the flame thus speaks advisedly:
That from the cold stone sparks of fire do fly,
Whereat a waxen torch forthwith he lighteth,
Which must be lodestar 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
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 armour of still-slaughtered 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;
And die, unhallowed thoughts, before you blot
With your uncleanness that which is divine.
Offer pure incense to so pure a shrine.
To darken her whose light excelleth thine;
And die, unhallowed 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 snow-white weed.
‘O shame to knighthood and to shining arms!
O foul dishonour to my household’s grave!
O impious act including all foul harms!
A martial man to be soft fancy’s slave!
True valour still a true respect should have;
O foul dishonour to my household’s grave!
O impious act including all foul harms!
A martial man to be soft fancy’s slave!
True valour 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 eyesore 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,
And be an eyesore 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 been.
‘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?
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 desp’rate rage
Post hither this vile purpose to prevent?—
This siege that hath engirt his marriage,
This blur to youth, this sorrow to the sage,
Will he not wake, and in a desp’rate rage
Post hither this vile purpose to prevent?—
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 forgo their light, my false heart bleed?
The guilt being great, the fear doth still exceed,
When thou shalt charge me with so black a deed?
Will not my tongue be mute, my frail joints shake,
Mine eyes forgo their light, my false heart bleed?
The guilt being great, the fear doth still exceed,
And extreme fear can neither fight nor fly,
But coward-like with trembling terror die.
‘Had Collatinus killed 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.
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.
Other books
Simply Voracious by Kate Pearce
Flesh: Part Twelve (The Flesh Series Book 12) by Corgan, Sky
Green Girl by Sara Seale
Cuentos de Canterbury by Geoffrey Chaucer
The Honorable Officer by Philippa Lodge
Band of Brothers by Stephen E. Ambrose
A Scandalous Marriage by Cathy Maxwell
JUSTICE REBORN (A Charlie Taylor Novel Book 1) by Ivan Bering
fortress of dragons.html by Fortress of Dragons
Through a Window by Jane Goodall