Richards, Nathaniel · published 1640 · first performed or written 1635 [1634-1636] (Annals) tragedy · King's Revels Company unassigned nearest T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm · 458 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
O my affrighted soul art thou there sweet Then am I safe; 'twas but a dream I see, A waking walking in my sleep wherein, methought I saw near to a riverside, Two lovely Turtles sit, like morn in May, Adorned with all the glories of the Spring, Their loves to either seemed to sympathize, And with such sober chastity connex, That their two hearts (as true loves ever should, Like fire and heat inseparate a like) Showed like the splendour of a heart that lived In sacred flames; in unextinguished flames Of chaste desires, free from the tainted spot Of petulant dalliance, till temptations snare Appeared Parthenope like; that with her charms Worked so effectual on the Turtle Male, He (like Troy, firebrand, falsely that forsook Unpitied Oenon) not alone content, Alone forlorn, t'abjure his lovely mate, But back returned his black intents to further, And to the height of lust he added murder The very thought seemed daggers to my breast, That with the fear I waked. To sleep thy last. Light of my life how's that? Briefly this; I'll be your dream's expositor thou must die; Die by this hand, this fatal instrument Nor must I seem to yield a slave to pity. Sure, sure I dream, dream still, if not tell, O Tell me my better self, whose killing words, Wounds crueler than death; what cause, what offend What ill desert in me, that wronged you never, The Gods me witness bear. 'tis for no fault sustained on thy behalf, N; tis the Empresse Doome. She; nay then. 'Tis thee; that model of creation, Must through thy death participate alone All that is man in me; And to that end With sweetest concord of discording parts, Out sings the Syrens, fires this mansion With haut, Ambition, Rome's imperial crown, And therefore I must kill; or else forgo All those bright shining glories, which what fool Would be so nice. Is there then no hope, No comfort, no remorse; must I depart Where I shall never see thy face again, Never behold those joys, which Hymen's Rites Were wont to crown with true love's flames, Is there no remedy. Farewell vain world, my life is such a toy, I will not with to live, t'abate thee joy. Yet ere I go, grant this one courtesy, 'Tis the last kindness you shall ever give, Place 'gainst my heart thy deadly pointed steel, So, now farewell; death is for me most meet, Strike sure and home, I do forgive thee sweet. Bravely resolved, and I'll perform thy will As bravely thus, Not to be Emperor of the spacious earth, Live, live Syllana free. Is't possible, Twixt fear and hope struck through with deep amaze I waver doubtful.
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)
O my affrighted soule art thou there sweet Then am I safe; t'was but a dreame I see, A waking walking in my sleepe wherein, Me thought I saw neare to a River side, Two lovely Turtles sit, like morne in May, Adorn'd with all the glories of the Spring, Their loves to either seem'd to sympathize, And with such sober chastitie connex, That their two hearts (as true loves ever should, Like fire and heate inseperate a like) Shew'd like the splendor of a heart that liv'd In sacred flames; in unextinguisht flames Of chast desires, free from the tainted spot Of peulent dalliance, till temptations snare Appear'd Parthenope like; that with her charmes Work't so effectuall on the Turtle Male, He (like Troy, firebrand, falsly that forsooke Vnpitied Oenon) not alone content, Alone forlorne, t'abjure his lovely mate, But back return'd his black intents to further, And to the height of lust he added murther The very thought seem'd daggers to my brest, That with the feare I wakt. To sleepe thy last. Light of my life how's that? Briefly this; I'le be your dreames expositor thou must die; Die by this hand, this fatall instrument Nor must I seeme to yeeld a slave to pittie. Sure, sure I dreame, dreame still, if not tell, O Tell me my better selfe, whose killing words, Wounds crueller then death; what cause, what offen What ill desert in me, that wrong'd you never, The Gods me witnesse beare. Tis for no fault sustain'd on thy behalfe, N; tis the Empresse Doome. She; nay then. 'Tis thee; that modell of creation, Must through thy death participate alone All that is man in me; And to that end With sweetest concord of discording parts, Out sings the Syrens, fiers this mansion With haut, Ambition, Romes imperiall crowne, And therefore I must kill; or else forgoe All those bright shining glories, which what foole Would be so nice. Is there then no hope, No comfort, no remorse; must I depart Where I shall never see thy face agen, Never behold those joyes, which Hymens Rites Were wont to crowne with true loves flames, Is there no remedy. Farewell vaine world, my life is such a toy, I will not with to live, t'abate thee joy. Yet er'e I goe, grant this one courtesie, 'Tis the last kindnesse you shall ever give, Place gainst my heart thy deadly pointed steele, So, now farewell; death is for me most meet, Strike sure and home, I doe forgive thee sweet. Bravely resolv'd, and I'le performe thy will As bravely thus, Not to be Emp'rour of the spacious earth, Live, live Syllana free. Ist possible, Twixt feare and hope strucke through with deepe amaze I waver doubtfull.