LUCRECE. Pity, that moveth every gentle heart To rue their griefs, that be distress'd in pain, Enforceth me to wail my niece's smart, Whose tender breast no long time may sustain The restless toil, that her unquiet mind Hath caus'd her feeble body to endure; But why it is (alack!) I must not find, Nor know the man, by whom I might procure Her remedy, as I of duty ought, As to the law of kinship doth belong. With careful heart the secret means I sought, Though small effect is of my travail sprung: Full often as I durst I have assay'd With humble words the princess to require To name the man which she hath so denay'd,[62] That it abash'd me further to desire, Or ask from whence those cloudy thoughts proceed, Whose stony force, that smoky sighs forth send, Is lively witness how that careful dread And hot desire within her do contend: Yet she denies what she confess'd of yore, And then conjoin'd me to conceal the same; She loved once, she saith, but never more, Nor ever will her fancy thereto frame. Though daily I observed in my breast What sharp conflicts disquiet her so sore, That heavy sleep cannot procure her rest, But fearful dreams present her evermore Most hideous sights her quiet to molest; That starting oft therewith, she doth awake, To muse upon those fancies which torment Her thoughtful heart with horror, that doth make Her cold chill sweat break forth incontinent From her weak limbs. And while the quiet night Gives others rest, she, turning to and fro, Doth wish for day: but when the day brings light, She keeps her bed, there to record her woe. As soon as when she riseth, flowing tears Stream down her cheeks, immixed with deadly groans, Whereby her inward sorrow so appears, That as salt tears the cruel cause bemoans. In case she be constrained to abide In prease[63] of company, she scarcely may Her trembling voice restrain it be not spy'd, From careful plaints her sorrows to bewray. By which restraint the force doth so increase, When time and place give liberty to plain, That as small streams from running never cease, Till they return into the seas again; So her laments, we fear, will not amend, Before they bring her princely life to end. To others' talk when as she should attend, Her heaped cares her senses so oppress, That what they speak, or whereto their words tend, She knows not, as her answers do express. Her chief delight is still to be alone, Her pensive thoughts within themselves debate: But whereupon this restless life is grown, Since I know not, nor how the same t'abate; I can no more but wish it as I may, That he which knows it, would the same allay, For which the Muses with my song shall pray. ACT III., SCENE 3. _After the song, which was by report very sweetly repeated by the Chorus_, LUCRECE _departeth into_ GISMUNDA'S _chamber, and_ GUISCARD _cometh out of the palace with_ JULIO _and_ RENUCHIO, _gentlemen, to whom he turneth, and saith_: