Shakespeare, William / Fletcher, John · published 1634 · first performed or written 1613 [1613-1614] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T34 Thebes and royal catastrophe: siege, sla · 462 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T34: thebes, antigone, polynices, creon, eteocles, war, theban, gods, dear, country.
Th'impartial Gods, who from the mounted heavens View us their mortal Herd, behold who err, And in their time chastise: go and find out The bones of your dead Lords, and honour them With treble Ceremony, rather than a gap Should be in their dear rights, we would suppl'it. But those we will depute, which shall invest You in your dignities, and even each thing Our haste does leave imperfect; So adieu And heavens good eyes look on you. what are those? Men of great quality, as may be judgd By their appointment; Some of Thebes have told's They are Sisters children, Nephews to the King. Byth' Helm of Mars, I saw them in the war, Like to a pair of Lions, smeared with prey, Make lanes in troops aghast. I fixed my note Constantly on them; for they were a mark Worth a god's view: what prisoner was't that told me When I inquired their names? We leave, they're called Arcite and Palamon, 'tis right, those, those They are not dead? Nor in a state of life, had they been taken When their last hurts were given, 'twas possible They might have been recovered; Yet they breathe And have the name of men. Then like men use 'em The very lees of such (millions of rates) Exceed the wine of others. all our surgeons Convent in their behoof, our richest balms Rather then niggard waist, their lives concern us, Much more than Thebes is worth, rather than have 'em Freed of this plight, and in their morning state (Sound and at liberty) I would 'em dead, But forty thousand fold, we had rather have 'em Prisoners to us, than death; Bear 'em speedily From our kind air, to them unkind, and minister What man to man may do for our sake more, Since I have known frights, fury, friends, beheastes, Loves, provocations, zeal, a mistress Task, Desire of liberty, a fever, madness, Hath set a mark which nature could not reach too Without some imposition, sickness in will Or wrestling strength in reason, for our Love And great Apollo's mercy, all our best, Their best skill tender. Lead into the City, Where having bound things scattered, we will post Florish. To Athens for our Army. Urns, and odours, bring away, Vapours, sighs, darken the day; Our dole more deadly looks than dying Balms, and gums, and heavy cheers, Sacred vials filled with tears, And clamours through the wild air flying. Come all sad, and solemn Shows, That are quick-eyed pleasures foes; We convent nought else but woes. This funeral path, brings to your households grave: joy cease on you again: peace sleep with him. And this to yours. Yours this way: Heavens lend A thousand differing ways, to one sure end.
seed 43: T30 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Th'imparciall Gods, who from the mounted heavens View us their mortall Heard, behold who erre, And in their time chastice: goe and finde out The bones of your dead Lords, and honour them With treble Ceremonie, rather then a gap Should be in their deere rights, we would suppl'it. But those we will depute, which shall invest You in your dignities, and even each thing Our hast does leave imperfect; So adiew And heavens good eyes looke on you. what are those? Men of great quality, as may be judgd By their appointment; Some of Thebs have told's They are Sisters children, Nephewes to the King. By'th Helme of Mars, I saw them in the war, Like to a paire of Lions, smeard with prey, Make lanes in troopes agast. I fixt my note Constantly on them; for they were a marke Worth a god's view: what prisoner was't that told me When I enquired their names? We leave, they'r called Arcite and Palamon, Tis ight, those, those They are not dead? Nor in a state of life, had they bin taken When their last hurts were given, twas possible They might have bin rcovered; Yet they breathe And haue the name of men. Then like men use 'em The very lees of such (millions of rates) Exceede the wine of others. all our Surgions Convent in their behoofe, our richest balmes Rather then niggard wast, their lives concerne us, Much more then Thebs is worth, rather then have 'em Fred of this plight, and in their morning state (Sound and at libcrty) I would 'em dead, But forty thousand fold, we had rather have 'em Prisoners to us, then death; Beare 'em speedily From ou kinde aire, to them unkinde, and minister What man o man may doe for our sake more, Since I have knowne frights, fury, friends, beheastes, Loves, provocations, zeale, a mistris Taske, Desire of liberty, a feavour, madues, Hath set a marke which nature could not reach too Without some imposition, sicknes in will Or wrastling strength in reason, for our Love And great Appollos mercy, all our best, Their best skill tender. Leade into the Citty, Where having bound things scatterd, we will post Florish. To Athens for our Army. Vrnes, and odours, bring away, Vapours, sighes, darken the day; Our dole more deadly lookes than dying Balmes, and Gmes, and heavy cheares, vials fill'd with teares, And clamers through the wild ayre flying. Come all sad, and solempne Showes, That are qui-eyd pleasures foes; We convent nought else but woes. This funeral path, brings to your housholds grave: Ioy ceaze on you againe: peace sleepe with him. And this to yours. Yours this way: Heavenslend A thousand differing waies, to one sure end.