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- text
- THE
RAPE
OF
LVCRECE.
irC
o
L A
T
I N
E,
thine
honor
laic in
nic,
From
me
by
ftrong
affault
it
is
bereft:
My
Honnic
loft,
and
I
a
Drone-Hke
Bee,
Haucno pcrfedionotmyfommcrlcft,
But
rob*d
and
ranfak't
by
iniurious
thcfr.
'
In
thy
weake
Hiue
a
wandring
wafpc
hath crept,
'
And
fuck'tihe
Honnic
which
thy
chaft
Bee kept.
Yet
am
Iguiltieofthy
Honors
wrackc,
Yet
for
thy
Honordidlentertainehim,
Comming
from
thee
I
could
not
put him backe:
For
k had
beene difhonor
to
difdainc
him,
Befidcs
ofwearinefle
hedldcoraplainehim,
And
talk't
of
Vcrtuc
(O
vnlook't
for euill,)
When
Vertuc
is
prophan'd
in
fuch
a
Dcuill,
Why fliould the wormc intrude the maiden bud ?
Or hatefull Kuckcowes hatch in Sparrows nefts >
OrTodcs infedtfaire founts with venomemud ?
Or tyrant folHe lurke in gende brcfts ?
OrKings be breakers of their ovvne behcftcs*
"But no perfection is fo abfolute,
That fomc impuritic doth not pollute.
G
II.
834—854
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