Valerius. Did he take fair Lucrece by the toe, man? Horatius. Toe, man? Valerius. Ay, man. Clown. Ha ha ha ha ha, man! Horatius. And further did he strive to go, man? Clown. Go, man? Horatius. Ay, man. Clown. Ha ha ha ha, man, fa derry derry down, ha fa derry dino! Valerius. Did he take fair Lucrece by the heel, man? Clown. Heel, man? Valerius. Ay, man. Clown. Ha ha ha ha, man! Horatius. And did he further strive to feel, man? Clown. Feel, man? Horatius. Ay, man. Clown. Ha ha ha ha, man, ha fa derry, &c. Valerius. Did he take the lady by the shin, man? Clown. Shin, man? Valerius. Ay, man. Clown. Ha ha ha ha, man! Horatius. Further too would he have been, man? Clown. Been, man? Horatius. Ay, man. Clown. Ha ha ha ha, man, ha fa derry, &c. Valerius. Did he take the lady by the knee, man? Clown. Knee, man? Valerius. Ay, man. Clown. Ha ha ha ha, man! Horatius. Farther than that would he be, man? Clown. Be, man? Horatius. Ay, man. Clown. Ha ha ha ha, man, hey fa derry, &c. Valerius. Did he take the lady by the thigh, man? Clown. Thigh, man? Valerius. Ay, man. Clown. Ha ha ha ha, man! Horatius. And now he came it somewhat nigh, man. Clown. Nigh, man? Horatius. Ay, man. Clown. Ha ha ha ha, man, hey fa derry, &c. Valerius. But did he do the tother thing, man? Clown. Thing, man? Valerius. Ay, man. Clown. Ha ha ha ha, man! Horatius. And at the same had he a fling, man? Clown. Fling, man? Horatius. Ay, man. Clown. Ha ha ha ha, man, hey fa derry, &c. [_Exeunt_. ACT THE FIFTH. SCENE I.--_A Room in the House of_ Collatine. _A table and a chair covered with black. Enter_ Lucrece _and her_ Maid. Lucrece. Mirable. Maid. Madam. Lucrece. Is not my father, old Lucretius, come yet? Maid. Not yet. Lucrece. Nor any from the camp? Maid. Neither, madam. Lucrece. Go, begone, And leave me to the truest grief of heart That ever entered any matron’s breast: Oh! Maid. Why weep you, lady? alas! why do you stain Your modest cheeks with these offensive tears? Lucrece. Nothing, nay, nothing. O you powerful gods, That should have angels guardants on your throne, To protect innocence and chastity! oh, why Suffer you such inhuman massacre On harmless virtue? wherefore take you charge On sinless souls, to see them wounded thus With rape or violence? or give white innocence Armour of proof ’gainst sin, or by oppression Kill virtue quite, and guerdon base transgression. Is it my fate above all other women, Or is my sin more heinous than the rest, That amongst thousands, millions, infinites, I, only I, should to this shame be born, To be a stain to women, nature’s scorn? Oh!