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# THE RAPE OF LVCRECE. VVhich speechless e woe of his poore she attendeth, And his vntimelie frenzie thus awaketh, Deare Lord, thy sorrow to my sorrow lendeth Another power, no cloud by raining flaketh, My woe too fencible thy passion maketh More feeling painfull, let it than suffice To drowne on woe, one paire of weeping eyes. And for my sake when I might charme thee so, For shee that was thy LVCRECE, now attend me, Be sodainelie reuenged on my Foe. Thine, mine, his own, suppose thou dost defend me From what is past, the helpe that thou shalt lend me Comes all too late, yet let the Traytor die, “For sparing Justice feeds iniquitie. But ere I name him, you faire Lords, quoth shee, (Speaking to those that came with COLATINE) Shall plight your Honourable faiths to me, VVith swift pursuit to venge this wrong of mine, For tis a meritorious faire designe, To chase injustice with revenge full armes, Knights by their oaths should right poore Ladies M (harmes). II. 1674—1694
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