Internet Shakespeare Editions

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Not Peer Reviewed

Lucrece (Quarto, 1594)


Reuealing day through euery crannie spies,
And seems to point her out where she sits weeping,
To whom shee sobbing speakes, ô eye of eyes,
Why pry'st thou throgh my window? leaue thy pee-(ping,
1090Mock with thy tickling beams, eies that are sleeping;
Brand not my forehead with thy percing light,
For day hath nought to do what's done by night.

Thus cauils shee with euerie thing shee sees,
True griefe is fond and testie as a childe,
1095Who wayward once, his mood with naught agrees,
Old woes, not infant sorrowes beare them milde,
Continuance tames the one, the other wilde,
Like an vnpractiz'd swimmer plunging still,
With too much labour drowns for want of skill.

1100So shee deepe drenched in a Sea of care,
Holds disputation with ech thing shee vewes,
And to her selfe all sorrow doth compare,
No obiect but her passions strength renewes:
And as one shiftes another straight insewes,
1105 Somtime her griefe is dumbe and hath no words,
Sometime tis mad and too much talke affords.
H 3