Gascoigne, George / Kinwelmershe, Francis / Yelverton, ChristopherEuripides / Dolce, Lodovico · published 1575 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T51 Parents and children: blessing, birthrig · 510 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T51: esau, iacob, father, son, isaac, god, love, birthright, parents, thing.
There is no love may be compared to that, The tender mother bears unto her child: For even somuch the more it doth increase, As their grief grows, or contentations cease. I know not mother, if I praise deserve, (That you to please, whom I aught not displease) Have trained myself among my trustless foes: But Nature draws (whether he will or nill) Each man to love his native country soil: And who should say, that otherwise it were, His tongue should never with his heart agree. This hath me drawn beside my bounden due, To set full light this luckless life of mine: For of my brother, what may I else hope, But trains of treason, force and falsehood both? Yet neither peril present, nor to come, Can hold me from my due obedience: I grant I can not griefless, well behold My father's palace, the holy altars, Ne lovely lodge wherein I fostered was: From whence driven out, and chaste unworthily, I have to long abode in foreign coasts: And as the growing green and pleasant plant, Doth bear fresh branches one above another, Even so amid the huge heap of my woes, Doth grow one grudge more grievous than the rest, To see my dear and doleful mother, clad In mourning tire, to tire her mourning mind, Wretched alonely for my wretchedness, So likes that enemy my brother best: Soon shall you see that in this wandering world, No enmity is equal unto that That dark disdain (the cause of every evil) Doth breed full oft in consanguinity. But Ioue, he knows what dole I do endure, For you and for my father's wretched woe, And eke how deeply I desire to know What weary life my loving sisters lead, And what annoy mine absence them hath given. Alas, alas, how wreakful wrath of Gods Doth still afflict Oedipus progeny: The first cause was thy father's wicked bed, And then (o why do I my plagues recount?) My burden borne, and your unhappy birth: But needs we must with patient hearts abide, What so from high the heavens do provide. With thee my child, fain would I question yet Of certain things me would I that my words Might thee annoy, ne yet renew thy grief. say on, dear mother, say what so you please: What pleaseth you, shall never me disease. And seems it not a heavy hap my son, To be deprived of thy country coasts? So heavy hap as tongue can not express. And what may most molest the mind of man This is exiled from his native soil? The liberty he with his country lost, And that he lacketh freedom for to speak, What seemeth best, without control or check. Why so? each servant lacketh liberty To speak his mind, without his masters leave. In exile, every man, or bond or free, Of noble race, or meaner parentage, Is not in this unlike unto the slave, That must of force obey to each man's will, And praise the peevishness of each man's pride.
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)
"There is no loue may be comparde to that, "The tender mother beares vnto hir chyld: "For euen ſomuche the more it dothe encreaſe, "As their griefe growes, or contentations ceaſe. I knowe not mother, if I prayſe deſerue, (That you to pleaſe, whome I ought not diſpleaſe) Haue traynde my ſelfe among my truſtleſſe foes: But Nature drawes (whether he will or nill) Eche man to loue his natiue countrey ſoyle: And who ſhoulde ſay, that otherwiſe it were, His toung ſhould neuer with his hearte agrée. This hath me drawne beſyde my bounden due, To ſet full light this luckleſſe lyfe of myne: For of my brother, what may I elſe hope, But traynes of treaſon, force and falſhoode bothe? Yet neyther perill preſent, nor to come, Can holde me from my due obedience: I graunte I can not griefleſſe, wel beholde My fathers pallace, the holie aultars, Ne louely lodge wherin I foſtred was: From whence driuen out, and chaſte vnworthily, I haue to long aboade in forreyn coaſtes: And as the growing gréene and pleaſant plante, Dothe beare freſhe braunches one aboue another, Euen ſo amidde the huge heape of my woes, Doth growe one grudge more gréeuous than the reſt, To ſée my deare and dolefull mother, cladde In mourning tyre, to tyre hir mourning minde, Wretched alonely for my wretchedneſſe, So lykes that enimie my brother beſt: Soone ſhall you ſée that in this wandring worlde, No enmitie is equall vnto that That dark diſdayne (the cauſe of euery euill) Dooth bréede full ofte in conſanguinitie. But Ioue, he knowes what dole I doe endure, For you and for my fathers wretched woe, And eke how déepely I deſire to knowe What wearie lyfe my louing ſiſters leade, And what anoye myne abſence them hath giuen. Alas, alas, howe wrekefull wrath of Gods Doth ſtill afflicte Oedipus progenie: The fyrſte cauſe was thy fathers wicked bedde, And then (oh why doe I my plagues recompte?) My burden borne, and your vnhappie birth: "But néedes we muſt with pacient heartes abyde, "What ſo from high the heauens doe prouide. With thée my chylde, fayne would I queſtion yet Of certaine things me woulde I that my wordes Might thée anoye, ne yet renewe thy griefe. Saye on, deare mother, ſay what ſo you pleaſe: What pleaſeth you, ſhall neuer mée diſeaſe. And ſéemes it not a heauie happe my ſonne, To be depriued of thy countrey coaſtes? So heauie happe as toung can not expreſſe. And what may moſte moleſt the mynde of man This is exiled from his natiue ſoyle? The libertie hée with his countrey loſte, "And that he lacketh fréedome for to ſpeake, "What ſéemeth beſt, without controll or checke. Why ſo? eche ſeruant lacketh libertie To ſpeake his minde, without his maiſters leaue. "In exile, euery man, or bonde or free, "Of noble race, or meaner parentage, "Is not in this vnlike vnto the ſlaue, "That muſte of force obey to eche mans will, "And prayſe the péeuiſhneſſe of eche mans pryde.