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- # THE RAPE OF LVCRECE
O opportunity thy guilt is great,
Tis thou that execut'st the raytors treason:
Thou fcts the wolfe where he the lambe may get,
V Who euer plots the finne thou poin'st the season.
Tis thou that spurn'st at right, at law, at reason,
And in thy thadie Cell where none may spie him,
Sits fin to ceaze the foules that wander by him.
Thou maket'st the ves'tall violate her oath,
Thou blowest'st the fire when temperance is thawd,
Thou smotherst'st honestie, thou murthrest'st troth,
Thou fowle abbettor, thou notorious bawd,
Thou planteest'st scandal, and displaceest'st lawd.
Thou rauisher, thou traytor, thou false theef,
Thy honie turnes to gall, thy joy to greefe.
Thy fecret pleasure turnes to open shame,
Thy priuate feasting to a publicke fast,
Thy smoothing titles to a ragged name,
Thy fugred tongue to bitter wormwood taft,
Thy violent vanities can neuer last.
How comes it then, vile opportunity
Being so bad, such numbers seeke for thee?
G 2
ll. 876—896
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