100
The Rape of Lucrece.
A badge of fame to slaunders livery,
A dying life to living infamy,
Poor helpless help the treasure stoln away,
To burn the guiltless Casket where it lay.
A dying life to living infamy,
Poor helpless help the treasure stoln away,
To burn the guiltless Casket where it lay.
Well, well, dear Colatine, thou shalt not know
The stained tast of violated troth:
I will not wrong thy true affection so,
To flatter thee with an infringed oath:
This bastard graffe shall never come to growth:
He shall not boast who did thy stock pollute,
That thou art doting Father of his fruit.
The stained tast of violated troth:
I will not wrong thy true affection so,
To flatter thee with an infringed oath:
This bastard graffe shall never come to growth:
He shall not boast who did thy stock pollute,
That thou art doting Father of his fruit.
Nor shall he smile at thee in secret thought,
Nor laugh with his companions at thy state;
But thou shalt know thy interest was not bought
Basely with gold, but stolne from forth thy gate:
For me I am the mistress of my fate,
And with my trespasse never will dispence,
Till life to death acquit my forst offence.
Nor laugh with his companions at thy state;
But thou shalt know thy interest was not bought
Basely with gold, but stolne from forth thy gate:
For me I am the mistress of my fate,
And with my trespasse never will dispence,
Till life to death acquit my forst offence.
I will not poison thee with my attaint,
Nor fold my fault in cleanly coyn'd excuses,
My sable ground of sin I will not paint,
To hide the truth of this false nights abuses:
My tongue shall utter all; mine eyes like sluces,
As from a mountain spring that feeds a dale
Shall gush pure streams to purge my impure tale.
Nor fold my fault in cleanly coyn'd excuses,
My sable ground of sin I will not paint,
To hide the truth of this false nights abuses:
My tongue shall utter all; mine eyes like sluces,
As from a mountain spring that feeds a dale
Shall gush pure streams to purge my impure tale.
By this lamenting Philomele had ended
The well-tun'd warble of her nightly sorrow,
The well-tun'd warble of her nightly sorrow,
And
