梓囚徒貧圭�鮗� ○ 賜 ★ 辛酔堀貧和鍬匈��梓囚徒貧議 Enter 囚辛指欺云慕朕村匈��梓囚徒貧圭�鮗� ● 辛指欺云匈競何��
!!!!隆堋響頼��紗秘慕禰厮宴和肝写偬堋響��
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�察�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
Enchanted Tarquin answers with surmise��
In silent wonder of still´gazing eyes。
This earthly saint�察�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
And reverend 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�察�having all�察�all could not satisfy��
But�察�poorly rich�察�so wanteth in his store
That cloyed with much he pineth still for more。
But she�察�that never coped with stranger eyes��
Could pick no meaning from their parling looks��
Nor read the subtle´shining secrecies
Writ in the glassy margents of such books。
She touched no unknown baits�察�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。
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�察�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�察�and wore out the night。
Now leaden slumber with life's strength doth fight��
And every one 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��
And when great treasure is the meed proposed��
Though death be adjunct�察�there's no death supposed。
Those that much covet are with gain' so fond
That what they have not�察�that which they possess��
They scatter and unloose it from their bond��
And so�察�by hoping more�察�they have but less��
Or�察�gaining more�察�the profit of excess
Is but to surfeit�察�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�察�wealth and case�察�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�察�and oft that wealth doth cost
The death of all�察�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�察�torments us with defect
Of that we have�察�so then we do neglect
The thing we have�察�and�察�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 must forsake��
Then where is truth�察�if there be no self´trust��
When shall he think to find a stranger just
When he himself himself confounds�察�betrays
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
The silly lambs。 Pure thoughts are dead and still��
While lust and murder wakes to stain and kill。
And now this lustful lord�察�leaped from his bed��
Throwing his mantle rudely o'er his arm��
Is madly tossed between desire and dread��
Th' one sweetly flatters�察�th' other feareth harm��
But honest fear�察�bewitched with lust's foul charm��
Doth too too oft betake him to retire��
Beaten away by brain´sick 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 lode´star 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�察�looking scornfully�察�he doth despise
His naked armour of still´slaughtered lust��
And justly thus controls his thoughts unjust��
'Fair torch�察�burn out thy light�察�and lend it not
To darken her whose light excelleth thine��
And die�察�unhallowed thoughts�察�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�察�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�察�so base��
That it will live engraven in my face。
'Yea�察�though I die�察�th