William Shakespeare,
The Rape of Lucrece
“ If they surcease to be that should survive! Shall rotten death make conquest of the stronger, And leave the falt’ring feeble souls alive? The old bees die, the young possess their hive. Then live, sweet Lucrece, live again and see Thy father die, and not thy father thee!” By this starts Collatine as from a dream, And bids Lucretius give his sorrow place; And then in key-cold Lucrece’ bleeding stream He falls, and bathes the pale fear in his face, And counterfeits to die with her a space; Till manly shame bids him possess his breath, And live to be revenged on her death. ”
