After that, I'll kill some worthless slave of yours to ruin your reputation along with your life; I'll put him in your dead arms and swear I killed him after I caught you with him. After that, I intend to take your body to the some low-level servant's bed, to make him share your sad fate.

FROM the besieged Ardea all in post, Borne by the trustless wings of false desire, Lust-breathed Tarquin leaves the Roman host, And to Collatium bears the lightless fire Which, in pale embers hid, lurks to aspire And girdle with embracing flames the waist Of Collatine's fair love, Lucrece the chaste. True valour still a true respect should have; Then my digression is so vile, so base, That it will live engraven in my face. What poor beggar would risk getting smacked with the king's scepter just for the chance to touch his crown?But in the midst of his unfruitful prayer, Having solicited th' eternal power That his foul thoughts might compass his fair fair, And they would stand auspicious to the hour, Even there he starts: quoth he, 'I must deflower: The powers to whom I pray abhor this fact, How can they then assist me in the act? I’m going to be sharing video newsletters such as this more frequently from now on as I used to teach in a pre-school and loved story time, and this reminds me of that. Virtue and beauty wrapped up together in one person are about as likely to last as a date that's canceled before it begins. Maybe he was so jealous of Collatine's valuable possession—Lucrece—that he'd do anything to compete, and the thought of it took over his mind.

And when she looked all the more beautiful because she was blushing, she'd get shy and become pale again, showing how modest she was. Tarquin was the latter, lying awake revolving in his head the dangers involved in getting what he wanted.Whether it was her herself reflecting the moonlight, or his sense of shame that dazzled him, his eyes were blind and he kept them closed.