The Sonnets and Other Poems (10 page)

Look
as
³⁷²
the fair and fiery-pointed sun,
Rushing from forth a cloud,
bereaves
³⁷³
our sight,
Even so, the curtain drawn, his eyes begun
To
wink
³⁷⁵
, being blinded with a greater light.
Whether it is that she reflects so
bright
³⁷⁶
      That dazzleth them, or else some shame supposed,
      But blind they are and keep themselves
enclosed
³⁷⁸
.

O, had they in that
darksome prison
³⁷⁹
died
Then had they seen the
period
³⁸⁰
of their ill:
Then Collatine again, by Lucrece’ side,
In his
clear
³⁸²
bed might have reposèd still.
But they must
ope
³⁸³
this blessèd
league
to kill,
      And holy-thoughted Lucrece to their sight
      Must sell her joy, her life, her world’s delight.

Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under,
Coz’ning
³⁸⁷
the pillow of a lawful kiss,
Who, therefore angry, seems to part
in sunder
³⁸⁸
,
Swelling
³⁸⁹
on either side
to want his
bliss,
Between whose hills her head entombèd is,
      Where like a
virtuous monument
³⁹¹
she lies,
      To be admired
of
³⁹²
lewd
unhallowed
eyes.

Without
³⁹³
the bed her other fair hand was
On the green coverlet, whose perfect white
Showed like an April daisy on the grass
With pearly sweat resembling dew of night.
Her eyes, like
marigolds, had sheathed their light
³⁹⁷
      And, canopied in darkness, sweetly lay
      Till they might open to adorn the day.

Her hair like golden threads played with her breath —
O modest wantons, wanton modesty! —
Showing life’s triumph in the
map
⁴⁰²
of death
And death’s dim look in
life’s mortality
⁴⁰³
.
Each
⁴⁰⁴
in her sleep themselves so beautify,
      As if between them
twain
⁴⁰⁵
there were no strife,
      But that life lived in death and death in life.

Her breasts, like ivory globes circled with blue,
A pair of
maiden
⁴⁰⁸
worlds unconquerèd,
Save of their lord no
bearing yoke
⁴⁰⁹
they knew,
And him by oath they truly honourèd.
These worlds in Tarquin new ambition bred,
      Who like a foul usurper went about
      From this fair throne to heave the owner out.

What could he see but mightily he noted?
What did he note but strongly he desired?
What he beheld, on that he firmly doted,
And in his
will
⁴¹⁷
his wilful eye he
tired
.
With more than admiration he admired
      Her
azure
⁴¹⁹
veins, her
alabaster
skin,
      Her coral lips, her snow-white dimpled chin.

As the
grim
⁴²¹
lion fawneth o’er his prey,
Sharp hunger by the conquest satisfied,
So o’er this sleeping soul doth Tarquin
stay
⁴²³
,
His rage of lust by gazing
qualified
⁴²⁴
,
Slaked
⁴²⁵
, not suppressed, for standing by her side,
      His eye, which
late
⁴²⁶
this mutiny restrains,
      Unto a greater
uproar
⁴²⁷
tempts his veins.

And they, like
straggling slaves
⁴²⁸
for
pillage
fighting,
Obdurate
⁴²⁹
vassals
fell
exploits
effecting
,
In bloody death and
ravishment
⁴³⁰
delighting,
Nor
⁴³¹
children’s tears nor mothers’ groans
respecting
,
Swell in their
pride
⁴³²
, the
onset
still expecting.
     
Anon
⁴³³
his beating heart,
alarum
striking,
      Gives the hot
charge
⁴³⁴
and bids them
do their liking
.

His drumming heart
cheers up
⁴³⁵
his burning eye,
His eye
commends
⁴³⁶
the leading to his hand,
His hand, as proud of such a dignity,
Smoking with pride, marched on to
make his stand
⁴³⁸
On her bare breast, the heart of all her land,
      Whose ranks of blue veins, as his hand did
scale
⁴⁴⁰
,
      Left their round turrets destitute and pale.

They,
must’ring
⁴⁴²
to the quiet
cabinet
Where their dear governess and lady lies,
Do tell her she is dreadfully
beset
⁴⁴⁴
And fright her with confusion of their cries.
She, much amazed, breaks ope her locked-up eyes,
      Who, peeping forth this tumult to behold,
      Are by his flaming torch dimmed and controlled.

Imagine her as one in dead of night
From forth dull sleep by dreadful fancy waking,
That thinks she hath beheld some
ghastly
⁴⁵¹
sprite
,
Whose
grim aspect
⁴⁵²
sets every joint a-shaking —
What terror ’tis! But she, in worser
taking
⁴⁵³
,
      From sleep disturbèd,
heedfully
⁴⁵⁴
doth view
      The sight which makes
supposèd
⁴⁵⁵
terror true.

Wrapped and confounded in a thousand fears,
Like to a new-killed bird she trembling lies:
She dares not look, yet
winking
⁴⁵⁸
there appears
Quick-shifting
⁴⁵⁹
antics
, ugly in her eyes:
Such
shadows
⁴⁶⁰
are the weak brain’s
forgeries
,
      Who, angry that the eyes fly from their lights,
      In darkness
daunts
⁴⁶²
them with more dreadful sights.

His hand that yet remains upon her breast —
Rude
ram
⁴⁶⁴
to batter such an ivory wall —
May feel her heart (poor
citizen
⁴⁶⁵
) distressed,
Wounding itself to death
⁴⁶⁶
, rise up and fall,
Beating her
bulk
⁴⁶⁷
that
his hand shakes
withal
.
      This moves in him more rage and lesser pity
      To make the
breach
⁴⁶⁹
and enter this sweet city.

First like a trumpet doth his tongue begin
To sound a
parley
⁴⁷¹
to his
heartless
foe,
Who o’er the white sheet peers her whiter chin,
The reason of this rash
alarm
⁴⁷³
to know,
Which he
by dumb demeanour
⁴⁷⁴
seeks to show.
      But she with vehement prayers
urgeth
⁴⁷⁵
still
      Under what
colour
⁴⁷⁶
he commits this ill.

Thus he replies, ‘The colour in thy face,
That even for anger makes the lily pale
And the red rose blush at her own disgrace,
Shall plead for me and tell my
loving tale
⁴⁸⁰
.
Under that colour am I come to scale
      Thy never-conquered fort: the fault is thine,
      For those thine eyes betray thee unto mine.

‘Thus I forestall thee, if thou mean to
chide
⁴⁸⁴
:
Thy beauty hath ensnared thee to this night,
Where thou with patience must my
will
⁴⁸⁶
abide
,
My will that marks thee for my earth’s delight,
Which
⁴⁸⁸
I to conquer sought with all my might,
      But as reproof and reason beat it dead,
      By thy bright beauty was it
newly bred
⁴⁹⁰
.

‘I see what
crosses
⁴⁹¹
my attempt will bring,
I know what thorns the growing rose defends,
I
think the honey
⁴⁹³
guarded with a sting:
All this beforehand
counsel
⁴⁹⁴
comprehends.
But will is deaf and hears no heedful friends,
     
Only he hath
⁴⁹⁶
an eye to gaze on beauty,
      And dotes on what he looks, gainst law or duty.

‘I have debated, even in my soul,
What wrong, what shame, what sorrow I shall breed
But nothing can affection’s course control
Or stop the headlong fury of his speed.
I know repentant tears
ensue
⁵⁰²
the deed,
      Reproach, disdain and deadly enmity,
      Yet strive I to embrace mine
infamy
⁵⁰⁴
.’

This said, he
shakes
⁵⁰⁵
aloft his
Roman blade
,
Which, like a
falcon
⁵⁰⁶
tow’ring in the skies,
Coucheth
⁵⁰⁷
the fowl below with his wings’ shade,
Whose
⁵⁰⁸
crooked beak threats if he
mount
he dies.
So under his
insulting
⁵⁰⁹
falchion
lies
      Harmless Lucretia, marking what he tells
      With trembling fear, as fowl hear falcons’
bells
⁵¹¹
.

‘Lucrece,’ quoth he, ‘this night I must enjoy thee.
If thou
deny
⁵¹³
, then force must work my way,
For in thy bed I purpose to
destroy
⁵¹⁴
thee.
That done, some worthless slave of thine I’ll slay,
To kill thine honour with thy life’s decay,
      And in thy dead arms do I mean to place him,
      Swearing I slew him seeing thee embrace him.

‘So thy surviving husband shall remain
The scornful
mark
⁵²⁰
of every open eye,
Thy kinsmen hang their heads at this disdain,
Thy issue
blurred
⁵²²
with
nameless
bastardy;
And thou, the author of their
obloquy
⁵²³
,
      Shalt have thy
trespass
⁵²⁴
cited up in rhymes
      And sung by children in succeeding times.

‘But if thou yield, I
rest
⁵²⁶
thy
secret friend
:
The fault unknown is as a thought unacted,
A little harm done to a great good end
For lawful policy remains enacted
⁵²⁹
.
The poisonous
simple
⁵³⁰
sometime is
compacted
      In a pure compound, being so applied
      His venom in effect is purified.

‘Then, for thy husband and thy children’s sake,
Tender my suit
⁵³⁴
, bequeath not to their lot
The shame that from them no
device
⁵³⁵
can take,
The blemish that will never be forgot,
Worse than a slavish
wipe
⁵³⁷
or
birth-hour’s blot
:
      For marks
descried
⁵³⁸
in men’s nativity
      Are nature’s faults, not their own infamy.’

Here with a
cockatrice
⁵⁴⁰
’ dead-killing eye
He
rouseth up himself
⁵⁴¹
and makes a pause,
While she, the picture of pure piety,
Like a white
hind
⁵⁴³
under the
gripe
’s sharp claws,
Pleads
⁵⁴⁴
in a wilderness where are no laws
      To the rough beast that knows no
gentle
⁵⁴⁵
right
      Nor
aught
⁵⁴⁶
obeys but his foul appetite.

But when a black-faced cloud the world doth threat,
In his dim mist th’aspiring mountains hiding,
From earth’s dark womb some gentle gust
doth get
⁵⁴⁹
,
Which blows these
pitchy
⁵⁵⁰
vapours from
their biding
,
Hind’ring
their present fall
⁵⁵¹
by this dividing,
      So his
unhallowed
⁵⁵²
haste her words delays,
      And moody
Pluto
⁵⁵³
winks
while Orpheus plays.

Yet, foul night-waking cat, he doth but
dally
⁵⁵⁴
,
While in his
holdfast
⁵⁵⁵
foot the weak mouse panteth.
Her sad behaviour feeds his
vulture folly
⁵⁵⁶
,
A swallowing
gulf
⁵⁵⁷
that even in plenty wanteth.
His ear her prayers
admits
⁵⁵⁸
, but his heart granteth
      No
penetrable
⁵⁵⁹
entrance to her
plaining
:
      Tears
harden
⁵⁶⁰
lust, though marble wear with raining.

Her pity-pleading eyes are sadly fixed
In the remorseless wrinkles of his face.
Her modest eloquence with sighs is mixed,
Which to her oratory adds more grace.
She
puts the
⁵⁶⁵
period
often from his place,
      And midst the sentence so her
accent
⁵⁶⁶
breaks
      That twice she doth begin ere once she speaks.

She
conjures him by
⁵⁶⁸
high almighty
Jove
,
By knighthood,
gentry
⁵⁶⁹
and sweet friendship’s oath,
By her
untimely
⁵⁷⁰
tears, her husband’s love,
By holy human law and common
troth
⁵⁷¹
,
By heaven and earth and all the power of both,
      That to his
borrowed
⁵⁷³
bed he make
retire
      And
stoop
⁵⁷⁴
to honour, not to foul desire.

Quoth she, ‘Reward not hospitality
With such black payment as thou hast
pretended
⁵⁷⁶
,
Mud
⁵⁷⁷
not the fountain that gave drink to thee,
Mar
⁵⁷⁸
not the
thing
that cannot be amended,
End thy ill
aim
⁵⁷⁹
before thy
shoot
be
ended
.
      He is no
woodman
⁵⁸⁰
that doth bend his bow
      To
strike
⁵⁸¹
a poor
unseasonable
doe.