Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1640 (Annals) not in BritDrama · Ogilby's Men unassigned nearest T5 Christian faith, sin and salvation · 477 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T5: god, christ, david, sin, holy, israel, lord, mercy, sins, faith.
He does blaspheme. Accept me, Jove, thy Priest, And this my sacrifice. Ha, mine arms grow stiff, I feel an ice creeping through all my blood, There's winter in my heart, I change o'th' sudden Am grown a statue, every limb is marble; Ye gods take pity on me, in your cause I wither thus; Jove, if thou hast a lightning, Bestow some here, and warm me. Strange! Father! Brother, if he should die now? I am his eldest son, he shall find me reasonable, He may do worse, considering how long I have been of age. No power let fall compassion. I have Offended. Whom? I know not, this good man Forgive, and if the Deity thou servest Can put a life into this frozen pile, Pray for me. Villain, wouldst thou owe thy life To the mercy of the power he serves, Wish rather To rot for ever thus. And if thou diest, I'll build a Temple here, and in this posture Kings shall kneel to thee, and on solemn days Present their crowns; Queens shall compose thee garlands, Virgins shall sing thy name, and 'bout thy neck And arms disperse the riches of their Art, Next to our Gods we honour thee: keep from The Impostor. I have no meaning to come near him. Give me thy hand: now move, and may thy heart Find softness too, this mercy is the least Of my great Masters treasures. I feel my heat Returned, and all my rocky parts grow supple, Let the first use I make of their restore, be To bend my knees to you. Bow them to him That gave me power to help thee. He is well again. I find a beam let into my dark soul, Oh take me to your faith, here I give back myself to serve your god. Traitorous to heaven! Come from him. Bid my haste forsake a blessing. Father. Call this good man your father, Boys. H 's mad, and I am frantic at this base Apostasy. My Lord think how you may Provoke our gods, and the King anger. Fear His wrath that made, and can let fall the world. He may yet do me as great a courtesy As dying comes too, if his error hold, And the king's anger. Dotard, Return; and prostrate to the gods we worship, Or though his witchcraft now protect thyself, Thy sons shall bleed. How's that? To satisfy The gods and us, with the next morning's Sun, Unless thou rise, and sacrifice to our Altars, Down from that Rock which over looks the Sea, They shall be thrown; my vow is fixed. Dear father. Take them away, their fate depends on him. Oh, I am lost. Thou art found. Forsake me not, poor boys! my prayers and blessing. Set forward now in heaven's name, And finish our procession.
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)
He does blaspheme. Accept me, Jove, thy Priest, And this my sacrifice. Ha, mine armes grow stiffe, I feele an ice creeping through all my bloud▪ There's winter in my heart, I change o'th' sudden Am growne a statue, every limb is marble; Yee gods take pitie on me, in your cause I wither thus; Jove, if thou hast a lightning, Bestow some here, and warme me. Strange! Father! Brother, if he should dye now? I am his eldest son, he shall find me reasonable, He may doe worse, considering how long I have been of age. No power let fall compassion. I have Offended. Whom? I know not, this good man Forgive, and if the Deitie thou serv'st Can put a life into this frozen pile, Pray for me. Villaine, wouldst thou owe thy life To the mercie of the power he serves, Wish rather To rot for ever thus. And if thou diest, I'll build a Temple here, and in this posture Kings shall kneele to thee, and on solemne dayes Present their crownes; Queenes shall compose thee garlands, Virgins shall ing thy name, and 'bout thy neck And armes disperse the riches of their Art, Next to our Gods we honour thee: keep from The Impostor. I have no meaning to come neere him. Give me thy hand: now move, and may thy heart Find softnesse too, this mercie is the least Of my great Masters treasures. I feele my heat Return'd, and all my rockie parts grow supple, Let the first use I make of their restore, be To bend my knees to you. Bow them to him That gave me power to helpe thee. He is well agen. I finde a beame let into my darke soule, Oh take me to your faith, here I give backe My selfe to serve your god. Traitrous to heaven! Come from him. Bid my haste forsake a blessing. Father. Call this good man your father, Boyes. H 's mad, and I am frantick at this base Apostasie. My Lord think how you may Provoke our gods, and the King anger. Feare His wrath that made, and can let fall the world. He may yet do me as great a curtesie As dying comes too, if his error hold, And the Kings anger. Dotard, Returne; and prostrate to the gods we worship, Or though his witchcraft now protect thy selfe, Thy sonnes shall bleed. How's that? To satisfie The gods and us, with the next mornings Sunne, Unlesse thou rise, and sacrifice to our Altars, Downe from that Rocke which over lookes the Sea, They shall be throwlie; my vow is fixt. Deare father. Take them away, their fate depends on him. Oh, I am lost. Thou art found. Forsake me not, poore boyes! my prayers and blessing. Set forward now in heavens name, And finish our procession.