Greville, Fulke · published 1633 · first performed or written 1600 [c.1598-c.1600] (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T5 Christian faith, sin and salvation · 500 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T5: god, christ, david, sin, holy, israel, lord, mercy, sins, faith.
Let this beare witnesse: No false prophets know, The time, or manner of their ouerthrow. Nay let thy life, in his power thou wouldst kill, Proue, God giues seldome good successe to ill. Behold! Euen Natures iust accusing spies Now make thy face blush forth thy guiltinesse; Remorse begets strange contrarieties: Confusions warre of good, and ill, I see, At once contending for the victorie. But Caine! hold fast these sparks, they be of truth. These smokes will passe, and light appeare againe; Shame past, is honor; Error is vertues booke, Where knowledge doth aboue temptation looke: What vgly musicke inward discords make? Thoughts layd asleepe of long doe now appeare; Euen halfe my power coniures me for his sake. What's this? Me hinkes I feele my shame grow deare. Hate of my selfe, and desolation breed, Where ioy, and pleasure I was wont to feed. Who lose their euils, lose their owne despaire; Out of which losse new hopes of honor rise, To show the world desire with better eyes. What can I hope? My fruit of better wit Is but to know I sayl'd for lacke of it. Shame is in that I leaue, and that I doe: The fault is only mine; and onely I, A sacrifice vnto you all, will die. Fauour thy selfe: Passions are desperate, And tempt with vncouth woe, as well as ioy. It euill is that glories to destroy; Her, and her counsells kill, and I agree; For she is foe alike to thee, and me. That is destroy my selfe; and I consent: For all any thoughts to thee were euill bent. Caine! credit not those visions of the ill. Faults are in flesh, as motes be in the Sunne, Where light doth shew each little thing amisse. Presumption, and despaire liue opposite, As times false glasses, wherein frailties see, Their faults too great, or else too little be. But iudge the man from whom these motions grow. Alaham ambitious is, light, violent; His end but to surprise his fathers state: Vnto which end, no lets there are but we; Who wonne, remou'd, or ruined must be. He first tried me with riuall iealousie, Shewing me hope, and honour in the start: Besides reuenge, by thy death offering me, Of our diuided powers an vnitie. But I stood firme. While he no whit dismay'd, Tempts thee more strongly, whom he hateth more; Resolu'd who euer kills, shall killed be: So much the faithlesse ioy in cruelty. " Mischiefe o'reflowes my thoughts; & like a sea, Deuoures the dewes, the raine, the snow, the springs, " And all their sweetnesse to his saltnesse brings. How should I ground a faith, that faithlesse know My selfe to be? Or why should he mistrust, On whom the worst that can befall is iust? Who liue distrusting, yet haue time to friend; But who mistrusting die, make haste to goe To that infernall Monarchie of feare, Where worse things come to passe, than doubted were.
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)
Let this beare witnesse: No false prophets know, The time, or manner of their ouerthrow. Nay let thy life, in his power thou wouldst kill, Proue, God giues seldome good successe to ill. Behold! Euen Natures iust accusing spies Now make thy face blush forth thy guiltinesse; Remorse begets strange contrarieties: Confusions warre of good, and ill, I see, At once contending for the victorie. But Caine! hold fast these sparks, they be of truth. These smokes will passe, and light appeare againe; Shame past, is honor; Error is vertues booke, Where knowledge doth aboue temptation looke: What vgly musicke inward discords make? Thoughts layd asleepe of long doe now appeare; Euen halfe my power coniures me for his sake. What's this? Me hinkes I feele my shame grow deare. Hate of my selfe, and desolation breed, Where ioy, and pleasure I was wont to feed. Who lose their euils, lose their owne despaire; Out of which losse new hopes of honor rise, To show the world desire with better eyes. What can I hope? My fruit of better wit Is but to know I sayl'd for lacke of it. Shame is in that I leaue, and that I doe: The fault is only mine; and onely I, A sacrifice vnto you all, will die. Fauour thy selfe: Passions are desperate, And tempt with vncouth woe, as well as ioy. It euill is that glories to destroy; Her, and her counsells kill, and I agree; For she is foe alike to thee, and me. That is destroy my selfe; and I consent: For all any thoughts to thee were euill bent. Caine! credit not those visions of the ill. Faults are in flesh, as motes be in the Sunne, Where light doth shew each little thing amisse. Presumption, and despaire liue opposite, As times false glasses, wherein frailties see, Their faults too great, or else too little be. But iudge the man from whom these motions grow. Alaham ambitious is, light, violent; His end but to surprise his fathers state: Vnto which end, no lets there are but we; Who wonne, remou'd, or ruined must be. He first tried me with riuall iealousie, Shewing me hope, and honour in the start: Besides reuenge, by thy death offering me, Of our diuided powers an vnitie. But I stood firme. While he no whit dismay'd, Tempts thee more strongly, whom he hateth more; Resolu'd who euer kills, shall killed be: So much the faithlesse ioy in cruelty. " Mischiefe o'reflowes my thoughts; & like a sea, " Deuoures the dewes, the raine, the snow, the springs, " And all their sweetnesse to his saltnesse brings. How should I ground a faith, that faithlesse know My selfe to be? Or why should he mistrust, On whom the worst that can befall is iust? Who liue distrusting, yet haue time to friend; But who mistrusting die, make haste to goe To that infernall Monarchie of feare, Where worse things come to passe, than doubted were.