The Bloody Brother (Rollo, Duke of Normandy) · chunk 17 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 T1 Death, grief and revenge · 492 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Be murdered all, but save him. Murder, murder. Cannot I reach you yet? No fiend. Latorch Rescue, I am down. Up then, your sword cools Sir, Ply it i'th' flame and work your ends out. Ha, Have at you there Sir. Author of prodigies, What sights are these! O give me a weapon Aubrey. O part 'em, part'em. For heaven's sake no more. No more, resist his fury no rage can Add to his mischief done. Take spirit my Otto, Heaven will not see thee die thus. He is dead, And nothing lives but death of every goodness. O he hath slain his brother, curse him heaven. Curse and be cursed, it is the fruit of cursing. Latorch, take off here; bring too of that blood To bloody o'er my shirt, then raise the Court, And give it out how he attempted us In our bed naked; shall the name of brother Forbid us to enlarge our state or powers? Or place affects of blood above our reason, That tells us all things good against another, Are good i'th' same line against a brother. What affairs inform these outcries? See and grieve. Prince Otto slain! O execrable slaughter! What hand hath authored it? Your Scholars, Baldwin. Unjustly urged Lord Aubrey, as if I For being his schoolmaster must teach this doctrine. You are his Counsellor did you advise him To this foul parricide? If rule affect this licence, who would live To worse than die, in force of his obedience? heaven's cold and lingering spirit to punish sin, And humane blood so fiery to commit it? One so outgoes the other it will never Be turned to fit obedience. Burst it then With his full swing given, where it brooks no ground, Complaints of it are vain, and all that rests To be our refuge (since our powers are strengthless) Is to conform our wills to suffer freely What with our murmurs we can never master. Ladies be pleased with what heavens pleasure suffers, Erect your Princely countenances and spirits, And to redress the mischief now resistless, Sooth it in show, rather than curse or cross it, Wish all amends and vow to it your best, But till you may perform it let it rest. Those temporisings are both dull and servile To breathe the free air of a manly soul Which shall in me expire in execrations Before for any life I soothe a murderer. Power lives before him till his own be dry Of all lives services and humane comforts, None left that looks at heaven's left half so base To do these black and hellish actions grace. Hast Latorch, And raise the City as the Court is raised, Complaining the abhorred conspiracy In plot against my life. I shall my Lord. You there that mourn upon the justly slain Rise and leave it if you love your lives, And hear from me, what (kept by you) may save you.
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)
Be murdred all, but save him. Murder, murder. Cannot I reach you yet? No fiend. Latorch Rescue, I am downe. Vp then, your sword cooles Sir, Ply it i'th flame and work your ends out. Ha, Have at you there Sir. Author of prodigies, What sights are these! O give me a weapon Aubrey. O part em, part'em. For heavens sake no more. No more, resist his fury no rage can Adde to his mischiefe done. Take spirit my Otto, Heaven will not see thee dye thus. He is dead, And nothing lives but death of every goodnesse. O he hath slain his brother, curse him heaven. Curse and be curst, it is the fruit of cursing. Latorch, take off here; bring too of that bloud To bloudy ore my shirt, then raise the Court, And give it out how he attempted us In our bed naked; shall the name of brother Forbid us to enlarge our state or powers? Or place affects of bloud above our reason, That tells us all things good against another, Are good 'ith same line against a brother. What affaires informe these outcries? See and grieve. Prince Otto slaine! O execrable slaughter! What hand hath author'd it? Your Schollers, Baldwin. Vnjustly urg'd Lord Aubrey, as if I For being his schoolemaster must teach this doctrine. You are his Counsellour did you advise him To this foule parricide? If rule affect this license, who would live To worse then dye, in force of his obedience? Heavens cold and lingring spirit to punish sinne, And humane bloud so fiery to commit it? One so outgoes the other it will never Be turn'd to fit obedience. Burst it then With his full swing given, where it brooks no ground, Complaints of it are vaine, and all that rests To be our refuge (since our powers are strengthlesse) Is to conforme our wills to suffer freely What with our murmures we can never master. Ladies be pleas'd with what heavens pleasure suffers, Erect your Princely countenances and spirits, And to redresse the mischiefe now resistlesse, Sooth it in shew, rather then curse or crosse it, Wish all amends and vow to it your best, But till you may performe it let it rest. Those temporizings are both dull and servile To breath the free ayre of a manly soule Which shall in me expire in execrations Before for any life I sooth a murderer. Power lives before him till his own be drye Of all lives services and humane comforts, None left that looks at heaven 'sleft halfe so base To doe these black and hellish actions grace. Hast Latorch, And raise the City as the Court is rais'd, Complaining the abhorr'd conspiracy In plot against my life. I shall my Lord. You there that mourne upon the justly slayne Rise and leave it if you love your lives, And heare from me, what (kept by you) may save you.