Page 2311 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

«Her house is sack’d, her quiet interrupted, [1170]
Her mansion batter’d by the enemy,
Her sacred temple spotted, spoil’d, corrupted,
Grossly engirt with daring infamy.

Then let it not be call’d impiety,
If in this blemish’d fort I make some hole, [1175]
Through which I may convey this troubled soul.

«Yet die I will not, till my Collatine

Have heard the cause of my untimely death,
That he may vow in that sad hour of mine
Revenge on him that made me stop my breath. [1180]
My stained blood to Tarquin I’ll bequeath,
Which by him tainted shall for him be spent,

And as his due writ in my testament.

«My honour I’ll bequeath unto the knife
That wounds my body so dishonoured. [1185]
’Tis honour to deprive dishonour’d life;
The one will live, the other being dead.

So of shame’s ashes shall my fame be bred,
For in my death I murder shameful scorn:
My shame so dead, mine honour is new born. [1190]

«Dear lord of that dear jewel I have lost,

What legacy shall I bequeath to thee?
My resolution, love, shall be thy boast,
By whose example thou reveng’d mayst be.
How Tarquin must be us’d, read it in me: [1195]

Myself thy friend will kill myself thy foe,
And for my sake serve thou false Tarquin so.

«This brief abridgement of my will I make:
My soul and body to the skies and ground;
My resolution, husband, do thou take; [1200]

Mine honour be the knife’s that makes my wound;
My shame be his that did my fame confound;