The Bloody Brother (Rollo, Duke of Normandy) · chunk 5 of 39
Fletcher, John / Field, Nathan / Massinger, Philip · published 1640 · first performed or written 1617 [revised 1627-1630] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T51 Parents and children: blessing, birthrig · 509 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.
Hear this and talk again, I'll break through all But I will reach thy heart. 'tis better guarded. Make way or I will force it, who are these My sons, my shames; turn all your swords on me, And make this wretched body but one wound, So this unnatural quarrel find a grave In the unhappy womb that brought you forth. Dare you remember that you had a Mother, Or look on these grey hairs, made so with tears For both your goods, and not with age, and yet Stand doubtful to obey hers? from me you had Life, nerves and faculties to use those weapons, And dare you raise them against her, to whom You owe the means of being what you are? All peace is meant to you. Why is this war then? As if your arms could be advanced, and I Not set upon the wracks, your blood is mine Your danger's mine, your goodness I should share in, And must be branded with those impious marks You stamp on your own foreheads, and on mine If you go on thus: for my good name therefore Though all respects of honour in yourselves Are in your fury choked, throw down your swords. Your duty should be swifter than my tongue, And join your hands while they are innocent, You have heat of blood and youth apt to ambition To plead an easy pardon for what's past; But all the ills beyond this hour committed, From Gods or men must hope for no excuse. Can you hear this unmoved? No Syllable Of this so pious charm, but should have power To frustrate all the juggling deceits With which the Devil blinds you. I begin to melt, I know not how. Mother, I'll leave you, And Sir, be thankful for the time you live Till we meet next, (which shall be soon and sudden) To her persuasion for you O yet stay, And rather than part thus, vouchsafe me hearing As enemies, how is my soul divided! My love to both is equal as my wishes, But are returned by neither, my grieved heart Hold yet a little longer, and then break: I kneel to both, and will speak so, but this Takes the authority of a Mother's power, And therefore like myself, Otto to thee, And yet observe son, how thy Mother's tears Out strip her forward words to make way for 'em, Thou art the younger Otto, yet be now The first example of obedience to me, And grow the elder in my love. The means to be so happy? This, yield up thy sword, And let thy piety give thy mother strength To take that from thee, which no enemy's force Could ere despoil thee of why dost thou tremble? And with a fearful eye fixed on thy brother, Observest his ready sword as bent against thee? I am thy armour and will be pierced through Ten thousand times before I will give way To any peril may arrive at thee, And therefore fear not.
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)
Heare this and talke againe, Ile break through all But I will reach thy heart. Tis better guarded. Make way or I will force it, who are these My sonnes, my shames; turne all your swords on mee, And make this wretched body but one wound, So this unnaturall quarrell finde a grave In the unhappy wombe that brought you forth. Dare you remember that you had a Mother, Or looke on these gray haires, made so with teares For both your goods, and not with age, and yet Stand doubtfull to obay hers? from me you had Life, nerves and faculties to use those weapons, And dare you raise them against her, to whome You owe the meanes of being what you are? All peace is meant to you. Why is this warre then? As if your armes could be advanc'd, and I Not set upon the wracks, your blood is mine Your danger's mine, your goodnesse I should share in, And must be branded with those impious markes You stamp on your owne foreheads, and on mine If you goe on thus: for my good name therefore Though all respects of honour in your selves Are in your fury choakt, throw downe your swords Your duty should be swifter then my tongue, And joyne your hands while they are innocent, You have heat of blood and youth apt to ambition To plead an easy pardon for what's past; But all the ills beyond this houre committed, From Gods or men must hope for no excuse. Can you heare this unmov'd? No Syllable Of this so pious charme, but should have power To frustrate all the juggling deceipts With which the Divell blindes you. I begin to melt, I know not how. Mother, Ile leave you, And Sir, be thankfull for the time you live Till wee meet next, (which shall be soone and suddaine) To her perswasion for you O yet stay, And rather then part thus, vouchsafe me hearing As enimies, how is my soule divided! My love to both is equall as my wishes, But are return'd by neither, my griev'd heart Hold yet a litle longer, and then break I kneele to both, and will speak so, but this Takes the authority of a Mothers power, And therefore like my selfe, Otto to thee, And yet observe sonne, how thy Mothers teares Out strip her forward words to make way for 'em, Thou art the younger Otto, yet be now The first example of obedience to me, And grow the elder in my love. The meanes to be so happy? This, yeeld up thy sword, And let thy pietie give thy mother strength To take that from thee, which no enimies force Could ere dispoile thee of why dost thou tremble? And with a fearefull eye fixt on thy brother, Observ'st his ready sword as bent against thee? I am thy armour and will be pierc't through Ten thousand times before I will give way To any perill may arrive at thee, And therefore feare not.