Goffe, Thomas · published 1633 · first performed or written 1617 [c.1613-c.1618] (Annals) tragedy · at University unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 454 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
MY Fury leaves me, now I'm at my last, And now methinks thou truly art a friend, Now with undaunted spirit prevent my grief, And let thy rapier drink blood greedily, As if it loved it, cause it is thy friend, Now rid me of my woe, thy friendly vow, Never did truly show itself till now: Why then dear friend I thus erect this arm, And will be strong to thee, as thou to me, we'll look upon our deaths with better face, Than others do on life; come Tyndarus, see, We scorn to live when all our friends are dead, Nor shall thy Fury make base famine be The executioner to my dearest friend, Whilst I can kill him, therefore spite of thee, we'll free ourselves past all calamity, Yes Pylades, we will beguile our time, And make him search through every nook a'th' world, If he in all his race can ever spy, Two that like us did live, like us did die: But we delay our death, now bravely come, And the last parting word shallbe strike home. O bravely struck dear friend yet once again. Yes at one thrust two friends must not be slain, O, how I love these wounds, heaven dropping showers, When the outrageous dog makes clouds of dust Upon the thirsty earth, come not more sweet, Than the blessed streams of blood, thy rapier rains. Hence weapon: for my loins now scorn all props, But my friend's arms, O, bear good legs a while, The weight of murder sits upon my soul, And bends my staggering joints unto the earth. Haste, haste, I faint, but O, yet let my strength Be Atlas to sustain the falling world; Breath, breath sweet vapours of two trusty hearts, And let our breaths ascend to heaven before, To make a room hard by the frozen pole, Where that our winged souls shall mount and sit, More glorious than the Concubines of love, Wreathed with a crown of rich enameled stars, Leaving all ages to deplore our death: That friendship's abstract perish with our breath: Fly thou best part of man, where Hecate Borne on the swarthy shoulders of the Even, Sits in a grove of oaks, till grey eyed morn, Bids her to throw off nights black Canopy. will't die before me? Stay, stay, I come. O grasp me then, our names like Gemini, Shall make new stars for to adorn the sky. Is thy breath gone? O, yes, 'tis almost past, Then both together, thus we'll breathe our last. WEnt they this way? my Lords, you move me much, Could I find him now, I would seat him new, In his right Kingdom, which doth weigh down me.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
MY Fury leaues me, now I'me at my last, And now me thinks thou truely art a friend, Now with vndaunted spirit preuent my griefe, And let thy rapier drinke blood greedily, As if it lou'd it, cause it is thy friend, Now rid me of my woe, thy friendly vow, Neuer did truely shew it selfe till now: Why then deare friend I thus erect this arme, And will be strong to thee, as thou to me, Wee'll looke vpon our deathes with better face, Then others doe on life; come Tyndarus, see, We scorne to liue when all our friends are dead, Nor shall thy Fury make base famine be The executioner to my dearest friend, Whilst I can kill him, therefore spight of thee, Wee'll free our selues past all calamity, Yes Pylades, we will beguile our time, And make him search through euery nooke a'th world, If he in all his race can euer spie, Two that like vs did liue, like vs did die: But we delay our death, now brauely come▪ And the last parting word shallbe strike home. O brauely rstook deare friend yet once again. Yes at one thrust two friends must not be slain, O, how I loue these wounds, heauen dropping showers, When the outragious dogge makes clouds of dust Vpon the thirsty earth, come not more sweet, Then the blest streames of blood, thy rapier raines. Hence weapon: for my loynes now scorne all props, But my friends armes, O, beare good leggs a while, The weight of murder sits vpon my soule, And bends my staggering ioynts vnto the earth. Haste, haste, I faint, but O, yet let my strength Be Atlas to sustaine the falling world; Breath, breath sweet vapours of two trusty hearts, And let our breaths ascend to heauen before, To make a roome hard by the frozen pole, Where that our winged soules shall mount and sit, More glorious then the Concubines of loue, Wreath'd with a crowne of rich enamel'd starres, Leauing all ages to deplore our death: That friendships abstract perish with our breath: Fly thou best part of man, where Hecate Borne on the swarthy shoulders of the Euen, Sits in agroue of oakes, till gray eye'd morne, Bids her to throw off nights blacke Canopie. Wil't die before me? Stay, stay, I come. O graspe me then, our names like Gemini, Shall make new starres for to adorne the skie. Is thy breath gone? O, yes, 'tis almost past, Then both together, thus wee'll breath our last. WEnt they this way? my Lords, you moue mee much, Could I find him now, I would seat him new, In his right Kingdome, which doth weigh downe mee.