The Bloody Brother (Rollo, Duke of Normandy) · chunk 37 of 39
Fletcher, John / Field, Nathan / Massinger, Philip · published 1640 · first performed or written 1617 [revised 1627-1630] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.87 · 479 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
pray look upon me, turn not from me, alas I do confess I'm made of mischief, Begot with all men's miseries upon me, But see my sorrow's mind, and do not thou learn, Whose only sweetest sacrifice is softness, Whose true condition tenderness of nature. My anger melts, o I shall lose my justice. Do not thou learn to kill with cruelty, (Those blessed eyes) as I have done with malice, When thou hast wounded me to death with scorn, As I deserve it Lady for my true love When thou hadst loaden me with earth for ever. Take heed my sorrows, and the stings I suffer, Take heed my nightly dreams of death and horror Pursue thee not, no time shall tell thy griefs then, Nor shall an hour of joy add to thy beauties; Look not upon me as I killed thy father, As I was smeared in blood do thou not hate me, But thus in whiteness of my washed repentance In my heart's tears and truth of love to Edith, In my fair life hereafter. He will fool me. O with thine Angel eyes behold and bless me, Of heaven we call for mercy, and obtain it, To justice for our right on earth, and have it, Of thee I beg for love, save me, and give it. Now heaven thy help, or I am gone for ever, His tongue has turned me into melting pity. Keep the door safe, and upon pain of death Let no man enter till I give the word. We shall Sir. Here he is in all his pleasure. I have my wish. How now, why dost thou stare so? A help I hope. What dost thou here? who sent thee? My brother, and the base malicious office Thou mad'st me do to Aubrey: pray. Pray? Pray, Pray, if thou canst pray, I shall kill thy soul else, Pray suddenly. Thou canst not be so traitorous. It is a justice: stay Lady, For I perceive your end; a woman's hand Must not rob me of vengeance. 'tis my glory. 'tis mine, stay & share with me: By the Gods Rollo There is no way to save thy life. No? No, It is so monstrous no repentance cures it. Why then thou shalt kill her first, and what this blood Will cast upon thy cursed head. Poor guard Sir. Spare not brave Captain. Fear or the devil ha' thee. Such fear Sir as you gave your honoured mother, When your most virtuous brother shieldlike held her, Such I'll give you; put her away. I will not, I will not die so tamely. Murderous villain, Wilt thou draw seas of blood upon thee? Fear not, Kill him good Captain anyway dispatch him, My body's honoured with that sword that through me Sends his black soul to hell, o but for one hand.
Fletcher, John / Field, Nathan / Massinger, Philip
Publication year (edition)
1640
First performance / composition (Annals)
1617 [revised 1627-1630]
First performance (BritDrama)
1617 [1617-1620]
Company (BritDrama)
King's Men
Genre (British Drama)
tragedy
Play type
Adult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 1115 · TCP A00959 · DEEP 936
Edition role
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 2421–2488 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 37 of 39 in this edition
Length
479 words · 617 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.867 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Pree thee look upon me, turne not from me, Ahlas I doe confesse I'me made of mischiefe, Begot with all mens miseries upon me, But see my sorrowes minde, and doe not thou learne, Whose only sweetest sacrifice is softnesse, Whose true condition tendernesse of nature. My anger melts, ô I shall loose my justice. Doe not thou learne to kill with cruelty, (Those blessed eyes) as I have done with mallice, When thou hast wounded me to death with scorne, As I deserve it Lady for my true love When thou hadst loden me with earth for ever. Take heed my sorrowes, and the stings I suffer, Take heed my nightly dreames of death and horrour Pursue thee not, no time shall tell thy griefes then, Nor shall an houre of joy adde to thy beauties; Look not upon me as I kill'd thy father, As I was smear'd in bloud doe thou not hate me, But thus in whitenesse of my wash'd repentance In my hearts teares and truth of love to Edith, In my faire life hereafter. He will foole me. O with thine Angell eyes behold and blesse me, Of heaven we call for mercy, and obtaine it, To justice for our right on earth, and have it, Of thee I beg for love, save me, and give it. Now heaven thy help, or I am gone for ever, His tongue has turn'd me into melting pitty. Keep the doore safe, and upon paine of death Let no man enter till I give the word. We shall Sir. Here he is in all his pleasure. I have my wish. How now, why dost thou stare so? A help I hope. What dost thou here? who sent thee? My brother, and the base malitious office Thou mad'st me doe to Aubrey: pray. Pray? Pray, Pray, if thou canst pray, I shall kill thy soule else, Pray suddenly. Thou canst not be so traiterous. It is a justice: stay Lady, For I perceive your end; a womans hand Must not rob me of vengeance. Tis my glory. Tis mine, stay & share with me: By the Gods Rollo There is no way to save thy life. No? No, It is so monstrous no repentance cres it. Why then thou shalt kill her first, and what this bloud Will cast upon thy cursed head. Poore guard Sir. Spare not brave Captaine. Feare or the divell ha thee. Such feare Sir as you gave your honour'd mother, When your most vertuous brother sheild-like held her, Such Ile give you; put her away. I will not, I will not dye so tamely. Murdrous villaine, Wilt thou draw seas of bloud upon thee? Feare not, Kill him good Captaine anyway dispatch him, My body onour'd with that sword that through me Sends his bk soule to hell, ô but for one hand.