The Conspiracy (Pallantus and Eudora) · chunk 40 of 63
Killigrew, Henry · published 1638 · first performed or written 1635 [Jan 8(?)] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.86 · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
I command you hold, my power is yet good You are the villains, the first causers of This my misery, and you should lay hands Upon yourselves; how ridiculous is this Your rage? suppose I should give way to Your desires, what were you the safer, Or I the better? you would have one foe The less, and I one sin more that am already Loaden. Does not this judgement affright you Rather? I am not only guilty, your Hands were dipped in the same blood and performed Such things I often durst but wish: that you Were commanded will not excuse you, your Loyalty to me was but at best a Broken faith unto another; and when You observed it most, you were most perjured. What can you expect? you see when that I Was guarded by an host, needed not fear What the power of earth, or men could do Unto me, one man (as I may say) one Handful of that earth broke through them all, and With a single arm forced what a million Could not keep, and when there was no means left, Yet there was a miracle to conquer me. To you I turn now, no more my ternor, In return of this favour you have found, Show the like to these, and others, that shall Be guilty of that name, as friends to me, Though you are nothing yet, this deed Will make you powerful and you that have given them all May demand so small a share: now you have been So much my enemy change something To a friend. How vainly I take care for Lesser things neglecting my greatest charge. O my Timeus! my poor Eudora! Leave me not yet, my soul, thou canst not mount Until the load be taken from thy wing, Thou couldst inhabit here when it was Hell, Now it is Paradise,— O stay— and dwell— Though the fall be great it cannot shake me When I know 'tis just. The malefactor's Penitence, takes not the justice of his Doom a way, though he be changed that remains Unstained, he may die with pity, but not With innocence. They mind me not I'll endeavour To escape while they are thus stupefied with grief, I will not trust their obedience to a dead command. Leave your sad embraces, They'll bring no comfort to you, though you persisted in them till you were such as thus you hold. Death, like a coy mistress, makes no return of love for all that is bestowed, you may waste yourselves but not your sorrows here. This ground will afford a perpetual supply of moisture; which your eyes, like two Suns, may draw up and pour down for ever. Let's to the Prince, and to him Offer up our lives and griefs together, Th' one's the only medicine for the other. The traitor's scaped.
nodes 1209–1261 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 40 of 63 in this edition
Length
482 words · 590 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.856 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I command you hold, my power is yet good You are the villaines, the first causers of This my misery, and you should lay hands Upon your selves; how ridiculous is this Your rage? suppose I should give way to Your desires, what were you the safer, Or I the better? you would have one foe The lesse, and I one sinne more that am already Loaden. Does not this iudgement affright you Rather? I am not onely guilty, your Hands were dipt in the same blood and perform'd Such things I often durst but wish: that you Were commanded will not excuse you, your Loyalty to me was but at best a Broken faith unto another; and when You observ'd it most, you were most periurd. What can you expect? you see when that I Was guarded by an hoast, needed not feare What the power of earth, or men could doe Unto me, one man (as I may say) one Handfull of that earth broke through them all, and With a single arme forc'd what a million Could not keepe, and when there was no meanes left, Yet there was a miracle to conquer me. To you I turne now, no more my ternor, In returne of this favour you have found, Shew the like to these, and others, that shall Be guilty of that name, as friends to me, Though you are nothing yet, this deed Will make you powerfull and you that have given them all May demand so small a share: now you have been So much my enemy change something To a friend. How vainely I take care for Lesser things neglecting my greatest charge. O my Timeus! my poore Eudora! Leave me not yet, my soule, thou canst not mount Untill the load be taken from thy wing, Thou couldst inhabit here when it was Hell, Now it is Paradice, — O stay — and dwell — Though the fall be great it cannot shake me When I know 'tis iust. The malefactors Penitence, takes not the iustice of his Doome a way, though he be chang'd that remaines Unstaind, he may die with pity, but not With innocence. They mind me not Ile endevour To escape while they are thus stupified with griefe, I will not trust their obedience to a dead command. Leave your sad imbraces, They'le bring no comfort to you, though you persisted in them till you were such as thus you hold. Death, like a coy mistris, makes no returne of love for all that is bestowed, you may wast your selves but not your sorrowes here. This ground will afford a perpetuall supply of moysture; which your eyes, like two Sunnes, may draw up and powre downe for ever. Let's to the Prince, and to him Offer up our lives and griefes together, Th'ones the onely medicine for the other. The Traytor's scapt.