The Conspiracy (Pallantus and Eudora) · chunk 52 of 63
Killigrew, Henry · published 1638 · first performed or written 1635 [Jan 8(?)] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 477 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Thou hadst no cause for all that thou hast done, the faults were general, and concerned not thee, but thou wert ready, for all ill; as well as goodness. Yet, I had a cause (Pardon me that I say) and being that I saw not you before I did it, a just one. I lost a Sovereign, as near to me in blood, as love; and if this cause may seem remote, I had a father murdered, whose death, as it becomes you thus to mourn, so it did me for to revenge, myself was banished, loyalty was both our faults, and when they had heaped these sorrows on me, left me not one hope to lean on; they were not yet content with my despair, but sought my life, which was so poor, it could not be distinguished then from death; their injuries forced a new one in me, and blew the spark until the flame consumed 'em. But had I beheld you before their danger, it would have turned my soul within me, changed me from a Foe unto their party. I cannot now believe I had a Justice, that there could be anywhere you were injured in it, so much my love doth mount above my grief, that it makes me think I have only lost your father. Why weep you thus? Could that recall him, I'd bear you company, and break those stubborn gates, which from my childhood to this present hour hath kept them back, and spend my whole store here. But nothing can redeem him, let that common remedy which all apply, and helpeth all, give ease unto you, that nothing can redeem him. O learn a strength of me (that is the worst name for it) to bear a father's loss. Let the innocence of mine excuse my violence to yours, we are the wretchedst two alive, made so by ourselves, and can be only happy in ourselves. Oh, O. Look on this, it may bring you comfort, with making out of love with the subject of your grief. Ha? Falls not my deformities away? Pallantus? art thou Pallantus? This is the first time I dared to be so. And to all this villainy is signed Tymeus, couldst thou be thus cruel, thus basely cruel? unworthy brother. This hath made a mercy of all that hath befallen thee, thou dost deserve to have thy punishments outlive thee, to have engraven on thy Tomb, Here lies the treacherous, bloody, and to make thee monstrous, have thy age add to it, The young Timeus, that was subtle in his youth, what remains for me? that happiness the most wretched do enjoy, is taken from me, a worthy cause of grief. Now I can neither live, nor die, without a stain. Can you yet read a resemblance but of justice in my Actions.
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)
Thou hadst no cause for all that thou hast done, the faults were generall, and concernd not thee, but thou wert ready, for all ill; as well as goodnesse. Yet, I had a cause (Pardon me that I say) and being that I saw not you before I did it, a iust one. I lost a Soveraigne, as nere to me in blood, as love; and if this cause may seeme remote, I had a father murdered, whose death, as it becomes you thus to mourne, so it did mee for to revenge, my selfe was banisht, loyaltie was both our faults, and when they had heapt these sorrowes on me, left mee not one hope to leane on; they were not yet content with my despaire, but sought my life, which was so poore, it could not be distinguisht then from death; their injuries forcd a new one in mee, and blew the sparke untill the flame consumde 'um. But had I beheld you before their danger, it would have turnd my soule within mee, changd mee from a Foe unto their partie. I cannot now beleeve I had a Justice, that there could bee any where you were iniurd in it, so much my love doth mount above my griefe, that it makes mee thinke I have onely lost your father. Why weepe you thus? Could that recall him, I'de beare you company, and breake those stubborne gates, which from my childe-hood to this present houre hath kept them backe, and spend my whole store here. But nothing can redeeme him, let that common remedy which all apply, and helpeth all, give ease unto you, that nothing can redeeme him. O learne a strength of me (that is the worst name for it) to beare a fathers losse. Let the innocence of mine excuse my violence to yours, wee are the wretchedst two alive, made so by our selves, and can be onely happy in our selves. Oh, O. Look on this, it may bring you comfort, with making out of love with the subiect of your griefe. Ha? Falls not my deformityes away? Pallantus? art thou Pallantus? This is the first time I darde to be so. And to all this villany is signd Tymeus, couldst thou be thus cruell, thus basely cruell? unworthy brother. This hath made a mercy of all that hath befallen thee, thou dost deserve to have thy punishments out-live thee, to have engraven on thy Tombe, Heere lies the treacherous, bloody, and to make thee monstrous, have thy age adde to it, The young Timeus, that was subtile in his youth, what remaines for mee? that happinesse the most wretched doe enjoy, is taken from me, a worthy cause of griefe. Now I can neither live, nor die, without a staine. Can you yet read a resemblance but of Iustice in my Actions.