Properties
- end_line
- 6265
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T06:24:48.288Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 6151
- text
- Imagine euerie eye beholds their blame,
For Lycrece thought, he blusht to see her shame.
VWhen seelie Groome (God wot) it was defect
Offpirite, life, and bold audacitie,
Such harmfelse creatures haue a true respect
To talke in deeds, while others saucilie
Promise more speed, but do it leysurelie.
Euen so this patterne of the worne-out age,
Pawn'd honest looks, but laid no words to gage.
His kindled duetie kindled her mistrust,
That two red fires in both their faces blazed,
Shee thought he blusht, as knowing TARQYINS lust,
And blushing with him, wittlie on him gazed,
Her earnest eye did make him more amazed.
The more shee saw the bloud his cheeks replenish,
The more she thought he spied in her som blemish.
K
ll. 1338—1358
<!-- [Page 265](arke:01KG6QE9NW11KGR2ZB2BJQNDZ6) -->
# THE RAPE OF LVCRECE.
Put long shee thinkes till he returne againe,
And yet the dutious vaffall scarce is gone,
The wearie time shee cannot entertain,
For now tis stale to figh, to weepe, and grone,
So woe hath wearied woe, mone tired mone,
That shee her plaints a little while doth stay,
Pawfing for means to mourne fome newer way.
At laff shee cals to mind where hangs a peece
Of skilfull painting, made for PRIAMS Troy,
Before the which is drawn the power of Greece,
For HELENS rape, the Cittie to deftroy,
Threatning cloud-kiffing ILLION with annoy,
VWhich the conceipted Painter drew fo prowd,
As Heauen (it seemd) to kiffe the turrets bow'd.
A thoufand lamentable obiects there,
In fcorne of Nature, Art gaue liueleffe life,
Many a dry drop seem'd a weeping teare,
Shed for the flaughtred husband by the wife.
The red bloud reek'd to shew the Painters ftrife,
And dying eyes gleem'd forth their aghie lights,
Like dying coales burnt out in tedious nights.
There
II. 1359—1379
<!-- [Page 266](arke:01KG6QE9PKECVKPD4SJZ7NNTK1) -->
# THE RAPE OF LYCRECE.
There might you see the labouring Pyoner
Beglim'd with sweat, and smeared all with dust,
And from the towres of Troy, there would appeare
The verie eyes of men through loop-holes thrust,
Gazing vppon the Greekes with little lust,
Such sweet obseruance in this worke was had,
That one might see those farre of eyes looke sad.
In great commaunders, Grace, and Maiestie;
You might behold triumphing in their faces;
In you:h quick-bearing and dexteritie,
And here and there the Painter interlaces
Pale cowards marching on with trembling paces.
V Which hartlesse peataunts did so wel resemble,
That one would swear he saw them quake & treble.
In Aiax and VlysseS, ó what Art
Of Phifogonony might one behold!
The face of eyther cypher'd eythers heart,
Their face, their manners most expreflie told,
In Aiax eyes blunt rage and rigour rold,
But the mild glance that flie VlysseS lent,
Shewed deeper regard and smiling gouernment.
K 2
II. 1380—1400
<!-- [Page 267](arke:01KG6QE9WTSFN8X5DX1W2H1VQ7) -->
# THE RAPE OF LVCRECE.
There pleading might you see graue NESTOR stand,
As twere encouraging the Greekes to fight,
Making such sober action with his hand,
That it beguild attention, charm'd the fight,
In speech it seemd his beard, all siluer white,
V Vag'd vp and downe, and from his lips did flie,
Thin winding breath which purl'd vp to the skie.
About him were a presse of gaping faces,
V V which seem'd to swallow vp his sound advice,
All ioyntlie listning, but with seuerall graces,
As if some Marmaide did their eares intice,
Some high, some low, the Painter was so nice.
The scalpes of manie, almost hid behind,
To iump vp higher seem'd to mock the mind.
Here one mans hand leand on another's head,
His nose being shadowed by his neighbours care,
Here one being throng'd, bears back all boln, & red,
Another smotherd, seemes to pelt and sweare,
And in their rage such signes of rage they bear,
As but for loose of NESTORs golden words,
It seem'd they would debate with angrie swords.
For
11. 1401—1421
- title
- Chunk 2