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- # THE RAPE OF LYCRECE.
O what excuse can my invention make
V Vhen thou shalt charge me with so blacke a deed?
V Vil not my tongue be mute, my fraile joints shake?
Mine eics forgo their light, my false hart bleede?
The guilt beeing great, the feare doth still exceed;
And extreme feare can neither fight nor flie,
But cowardlike with trembling terror die.
Had **COLATINUS** kild my sonne or fire,
Or laine in ambush to betray my life,
Or were he not my deare friend, this desire
Might haue excuse to worke vppon his wife:
As in revenge or quittall of such strife.
But as he is my kinsman, my deare friend,
The shame and fault finds no excuse nor end.
Shamefull it is: I, if the fact be known,
Hatefull it is: there is no hate in louing,
Ile beg her loue: but she is not her owne:
The worst is but denial and reproouing.
My will is strong past reasons weake remoouing:
V Vho feares a sentence or an old mans saw,
Shall by a painted cloth be kept in awe.
Thus
II. 225—245
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