Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Hardy M. Cook
Not Peer Reviewed

Lucrece (Quarto, 1594)


VVhich speechlesse woe of his poore she attendeth,
1675And his vntimelie frenzie thus awaketh,
Deare Lord, thy sorrow to my sorrow lendeth
Another power, no floud by raining slaketh,
My woe too sencible thy passion maketh
More feeling painfull, let it than suffice
1680To drowne on woe, one paire of weeping eyes.

And for my sake when I might charme thee so,
For shee that was thy LVCRECE, now attend me,
Be sodainelie reuenged on my Foe.
Thine, mine, his own, suppose thou dost defend me
1685From what is past, the helpe that thou shalt lend me
Comes all too late, yet let the Traytor die,
"For sparing Iustice feeds iniquitie.

But ere I name him, you faire Lords, quoth shee,
(Speaking to those that came with COLATINE)
1690Shall plight your Honourable faiths to me,
VVith swift pursuit to venge this wrong of mine,
For 'tis a meritorious faire designe,
To chase iniustice with reuengefull armes,
Knights by their oaths should right poore Ladies