24162Now stole vppon the time the dead of night,

163When heauie sleeep had closd vp mortall eyes,

164No comfortable starre did lend his light,

165No noise but Owles, & wolues death-boding cries:

166Now serues the season that they may surprise

167 The sillie Lambes, pure thoughts are dead & still,

168 While Lust and Murder wakes to staine and kill.

25169And now this lustfull Lord leapt from his bed,

170Throwing his mantle rudely ore his arme,

171Is madly tost betweene desire and dred;

172Th'one sweetely flatters, th'other feareth harme,

173But honest feare, bewicht with lustes foule charme,

174 Doth too too oft betake him to retire,

175 Beaten away by brainesicke rude desire.

26176His Faulchon on a flint he softly smiteth,

177That from the could stone sparkes of fire doe flie,

178Whereat a waxen torch forthwith he lighteth,

179Which must be lodestarre to his lustfull eye.

180And to the flame thus speakes aduisedlie;

181 As from this cold flint I enforst this fire,

182 So LVCRECE must I force to my desire.