Page 2276 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

Are weakly fortress’d from a world of harms.

Beauty itself doth of itself persuade
The eyes of men without an orator; [30]
What needeth then apologies be made,
To set forth that which is so singular?

Or why is Collatine the publisher
Of that rich jewel he should keep unknown
From thievish ears, because it is his own? [35]

Perchance his boast of Lucrece’ sov’reignty
Suggested this proud issue of a king;

For by our ears our hearts oft tainted be.
Perchance that envy of so rich a thing,
Braving compare, disdainfully did sting [40]

His high-pitch’d thoughts, that meaner men should vaunt
That golden hap which their superiors want.

But some untimely thought did instigate
His all-too-timeless speed, if none of those;
His honour, his affairs, his friends, his state, [45]

Neglected all, with swift intent he goes
To quench the coal which in his liver glows.
O rash false heat, wrapp’d in repentant cold,
Thy hasty spring still blasts and ne’er grows old!

When at Collatium this false lord arrived, [50]

Well was he welcom’d by the Roman dame,
Within whose face beauty and virtue strived
Which of them both should underprop her fame.
When virtue bragg’d, beauty would blush for shame;

When beauty boasted blushes, in despite [55]
Virtue would stain that o’er with silver white.

But beauty in that white entituled
From Venus’ doves, doth challenge that fair field;
Then virtue claims from beauty beauty’s red,