🎯 ¿Cansado de los anuncios?
Elimínalos ahora 🚀

Is almost choked by unresisted lust.

Away he steals, with open list’ning ear,

Full of foul hope and full of fond mistrust,

Both which as servitors to the unjust

So cross him with their opposite persuasion

That now he vows a league, and now invasion.

Within his thought her heavenly image sits,

And in the selfsame seat sits Collatine.

That eye which looks on her confounds his wits,

That eye which him beholds, as more divine,

Unto a view so false will not incline,

But with a pure appeal seeks to the heart,

Which once corrupted, takes the worser part,

And therein heartens up his servile powers

Who, flattered by their leader’s jocund show,

Stuff up his lust as minutes fill up hours,

And as their captain, so their pride doth grow,

Paying more slavish tribute than they owe.

By reprobate desire thus madly led

The Roman lord marcheth to Lucrece’ bed.

The locks between her chamber and his will,

Each one by him enforced, retires his ward;

But as they open they all rate his ill,

Which drives the creeping thief to some regard.

The threshold grates the door to have him heard,

Night-wand’ring weasels shriek to see him there.

They fright him, yet he still pursues his fear.

👉 Descargar el audiolibro GRATIS en Amazon
Reportar problema / Sugerencias