Lower, William · published 1639 · first performed or written 1639 [c.1622-1639] (Annals) not in BritDrama unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
This may endanger thine if it hap right. I faint and die, hell light upon Allecto, And all the furies rend his soul in pieces; False perjured villain. I do smell a plot Laid for my life, his words betoken something. How's this! the noble Prince of Persia slain, And his bold murderer triumphing o'er His slaughtered body? come, my noble friend Shall not die unrevenged. If there be any Princely or royal blood within thy veins, Distain it not or shame by such a fact, To fight at such foul disadvantage with A wounded wearied man, yet in this state, Though faint with loss of blood, dismiss these men, And I will try my fortune out with thee, And if I fall, I'll say th' art noble too. No, if thou liv'st, my fortunes then must die: I aim, man, for the kingdom, and to gain The love of fair Phoenicia, thou art a bar That hinders both, therefore must be removed: This plot I did contrive, not with intent To work thy end alone, but Perseus too; Now it is finished, make an easy passage For life to issue forth me dear associates, There's one gap more, a floodgate large enough. Most impious wretch, think'st thou the gods above Will favour thy so damnable attempt? Thinkest thou to scape the justice of the heavens, And to hoodwink the gods? no, though thou hast Proceeded thus far in thy villainies: Though thou hast slain me by thy base treachery, My mind foretells thou shalt be soon cut off, And all thy hopes destroyed. Where is my Prince? Where is he? torment to my wounded heart? Weltering in his own blood. How? heavens defend, What impious hand hath done so foul an act? Speak Noble Prince, speak quickly. Worthy friends, You're fitly come here to revenge my death, There stands the villain, and his treacherous crew Who did procure it. We will sacrifice Their lives with speed, to pacify your spirit; But that's a poor requital for our loss: Villains, our swords must send you hence to hell, Go, and the furies give you entertainment. Dear Sir, how do you? speak to Consolario, Speak to your tutor, open these lovely eyes, And look with pity on the aged face Of him that dies for sorrow of your wounds. Dear son, speak comfort to thy father's heart, (For so you bid me style you to my death) I faint, yet let one word come from you month, To tell me that you heare my grievous moan. And I shall die in peace. Dear Consolario Thy cries have waked me from a pleasing sleep, I love thee still in death and after death. But I'll die first, so, so my heart strings break. Help, help, my Fathers fallen in a swoon. He's dead sweet Prince and passed recovery. I'll soon be with him, for I must not lose His loved society; have you revenged My death, upon Allecto and the rest?
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)
This may endanger thine if it hap right. I faint and dye, hell light upon Alecto, And all the suriesrend his soule in pieces; False perjar'd villaine. I doe smll a plot Layd for my life, his words betoken something. How's this the noble Prince of Persia slaine, And his bold murtherer triumphing o're His slaughtered body? come, my noble friend Shall not dye unreveng'd. If there be any Princely or royall bloud within thy veynes, Distaine it not or shame by such a fact, To fight at such foule disadvantage with A wounded wearied man, yt in this state, Though faint with losse of bloud, dismisse these men, And I will try my fortune out with thee, And if I fall, I'le say th' art noble too. No, if thou liv'st, my fortunes then must dye: I ayme, man, for the kingdome, and to gaine The love of faire Phaenicia, thou art a barre That hinders both, thereore must be remov'd: This plot I did contrive, not with intent To worke thy end alone, but Perseus too; Now it is finish'd, make an easie passage For life to issue forth me deare associates, There's one gap more, a floud-gate large enough. Most impious wretch, think'st thou the gods above Will favour thy so damnable attempt? Think'st thou to scape the justice of the heavens, And to hood-wink the gods? no, though thou hast Proceeded thus farre in thy villanies: Though thou hast slaine me by thy base treachery, My minde foretels thou shalt be soone cut off, And all thy hopes destroyd. Where is my Prince? Where is he? torment to my wounded heart? Weltring in his owne bloud. How? heavens defend, What impious hand hath done so fule an act? Speake Noble Prince, speake quickly. Worthy friends, You're fitly come here to revenge my death, There stands the villaine, and his treacherous crue Who did procure it. We will sacrifice Their lives with speed, to pacifie your spirit; But that's a poore requitall for our losse: Villaines, our swords must send you hence to hell, Goe, and the furies give you entertainment. Deare Sir, how doe you? speake to Consolario, Speake to your tutor, ope these lovely eyes, And look with pity on the aged face Of him that dyes for sorrow of your wounds. Deare sonne, speake comfort to thy fathers heart, (For so you bid me stile you to my death) I faint, yet let one word come from you month, To tell me that you hee my gvous moane. And I shall die in peace. Deare Consolarie Thy orie have wak'd me from a pleasing sleepe, I love thee still in death and after death. But I'le die first, so, so my heart strings breake. Helpe, helpe, my Fathers fallen in a wound. He's dead sweet Prince and pass'd recovery. I'le soone be with him, for I must not loose His lov'd society; have you reveng'd My death, upon Alecto and the rest?