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- # THE RAPE OF LVCRECE.
O, quoth LvcreTIVS, I did giue that life
V Vhich shee to carely and too late hath spil'd.
V Voe woe, quoth CoLATINE, shee was my wife,
I owed her, and tis mine that shee hath kil'd.
My daughter and my wife with clamors fild
The dispert aire, who holding Lvcrece life,
Answer'd their cries, my daughter and my wife.
Brvtvs who pluck't the knife from Lvcrece fide,
Seeing such emulation in their woe,
Began to cloath his wit in state and pride,
Burying in Lvcrece wound his follies show,
He with the Romains was esteemed so
As feelie ieering idiots are with Kings,
For sportiue words, and vttring foolish things.
But now he throws that shallow habit by,
V Vherein deepe pollicie did him disguise,
And arm'd his long hid wits aduifedlie,
To checke the teares in CoLATINVs eies.
Thou wronged Lord of Rome, quoth he, arife,
> Let my vnsounded felfe suppos'd a foole,
Now set thy long experienc't wit to schoole.
II. 1800—1820
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