The Bloody Brother (Rollo, Duke of Normandy) · chunk 21 of 39
Fletcher, John / Field, Nathan / Massinger, Philip · published 1639 · first performed or written 1617 [revised 1627-1630] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
I am two late sir, 'twas dispatched before, And his head is hear. And my heart there; go bury him. Give him fair rites of funeral, decent honours. Wilt thou not take me monster? highest heaven Give him a punishment fit for his mischief. I fear thy prayer is heard, and he rewarded: Lady have patience, 'twas unhappy speed; Blame not the Duke, 'twas not his fault, but fates, He sent, you know to stay it, and commanded In care of you, the heavy object hence Soon as it came? have better thoughts of him. Where's this young Traitor? Noble citizens' here; Any here the wounds he gave your sovereign Lord. This Prince of force must be Beloved of heaven, whom heaven hath thus preserved. And if he be beloved of heaven, you know, He must be just, and all his actions so. Concluded like an Oracle, oh how great A grace of heaven is a wise zen? For heaven 'tis makes them wise, as 't makes me just, As it preserves me, as I now survive By his strong hand to keep you all alive; Your wives, your children, goods and lands kept yours, That had been else preys to his tyrannous power, That would have preyed on me, in bed me In sacred time of peace; my mother here, My sister, this just Lord, and all had felt The curtain gulf of this conspiracy, Of which my Tutor and my Chancellor, Two of the gravest and most counted honest In all my Dukedom) were the monstrous heads; Oh trust no honest men for their sakes ever My politic Citizens, but those that breathe The names of Cutthroats, usurers an Tyrants; Oh those believe 〈◊〉, for the foul mouthed world Can give no better terms to simple goodness: Even me it dares blaspheme, and thinks me tyrannous For saving my own life, sought by my brother: Yet those that sought his life before by poison (Though my own servants, hoping to please me) I'll lead to death for't, which your eyes shall see. Why, what a Prince is here? How just? How gentle? Well, now my dearest subjects; or much rather My nerves, my spirits, or my vital blood; Turn to your needful rest, and settled peace, Fix in this root of steel, from whence it sprung In heavens great help and blessing: but ere sleep Bind in his sweet oblivion your dull senses, The name and verme of heaven's King; advance For yours, in chief for my deliverance. Heaven and his King save our most pious sovereign. Thanks my good people: mother and kind sister, And you my noble kinsmen, things borne thus, Shall make you all command what ever I Enjoy in this my absolute Empery, Take in the body of my princely brother; For whose death, since his fate no other way, Would give my eldest birth his supreme right; We'll mourn the cruel influence it bears, And wash his sepulchre with kindly tears.
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)
I am two late sir, twas dispatch'd before And his head is heare. And my heart there; goe bury him. Give him faire rites of funerall, decent honour. Wilt thou not take me monster? heighest heaven Give him a punishment fit for his mischiefe. I feare thy prayer is heard, and he rewarded Lady have patience, twas unhappy speed; Blame not the Duke, twas not his fault, but fates, He sent, you know to stay it, and commanded In care of you, the heavie object hence Soone as it came? have better thoughts of him. Where's this young Traytor? Noble citizens here; Any here the wounds he gave your soveraigne Lord. This Prince of force must be Belov'd of heaven, whom heaven hath thus preserv'd. And if he be belov'd of heaven, you know, He must be just, and all his actions so. Concluded like an Oracle, oh how great A grace of heaven is a wise zen? For heaven tis makes them wise, as 't makes me just, As it preserves me, as I now survive By his strong hand to keepe you all alive; Your wives, your children, goods and lands kept yours, That had beene else preyes to his tyranous power, That would have prey'd on me, in bed asaulted me In sacred time of peace; my mother here, My sister, this just Lord, and all had felt The curtian gulph of this conspiracie, Of which my Tutor and my Chancellour, Two of the gravest and most counted honest In all my Dukedome) were the monstrous head; Oh trust no honest men for their sakes ever My politique Citizens, but those that breathe The names of Cut-throats, usurers an Tyrants; Oh those beleeve , for the oule mouth'd world Can give no better termes to imple goodnesse: Even m it dares blaspheme, and thinkes me tyrannou For saving my owne life, sought by my brother: Yet those that sought his life before by poyson (Though my owne servants, hoping to please me) Ile lead to death fort, which your eyes shall see. Why, what a Prince is here? How just? How gentle? Well, now my dearest subjects; or much rather My nerves, my spirits, or my vitall blood; Turne to your needfull rest, and setled peace, Fixe in this roote of steele, from whence it sprung In heavens great helpe and blessing: but ere sleepe Bind in his sweet oblivion your dull senses, The name and verme of heavens King; advance For yours, in hiefe for my deliverance. Heaven and his King save our most pious soveraigne. Thankes my good people: mother and kind sister, And you my noble kinsmen, thinges borne thus, Shall make you all command what ever I Enjoy in this my absolute Empery, Take in the body of my princely brother; For whose death, since his fate no other way, Would give my eldest birth his supreme right; We'le mourne the cruell influence it beares, And wash his sepulcher with kindly teares.