Page 2293 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

«My husband is thy friend; for his sake spare me.
Thyself art mighty; for thine own sake leave me.
Myself a weakling; do not then ensnare me.
Thou look’st not like deceit; do not deceive me. [585]

My sighs like whirlwinds labour hence to heave thee;
If ever man were mov’d with woman’s moans,
Be moved with my tears, my sighs, my groans.

«All which together, like a troubled ocean,

Beat at thy rocky and wrack-threat’ning heart, [590]
To soften it with their continual motion;
For stones dissolv’d to water do convert.
O if no harder than a stone thou art,
Melt at my tears and be compassionate!

Soft pity enters at an iron gate. [595]

«In Tarquin’s likeness I did entertain thee:
Hast thou put on his shape to do him shame?
To all the host of heaven I complain me,
Thou wrong’st his honour, wound’st his princely name;

Thou art not what thou seem’st, and if the same, [600]
Thou seem’st not what thou art, a god, a king:
For kings like gods should govern everything.

«How will thy shame be seeded in thine age,

When thus thy vices bud before thy spring?
If in thy hope thou dar’st do such outrage, [605]
What dar’st thou not when once thou art a king?
O be remember’d, no outrageous thing

From vassal actors can be wip’d away:
Then kings’ misdeeds cannot be hid in clay.

«This deed will make thee only lov’d for fear; [610]
But happy monarchs still are fear’d for love.
With foul offenders thou perforce must bear,

When they in thee the like offences prove.
If but for fear of this, thy will remove,