Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1640 (Annals) not in BritDrama · Ogilby's Men unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 503 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
Take heed, It may be a Lion, or a fierce wolf's den; How nature trembles at the thought of death: Though it be pressed down, with the weight of life. I dare not enter, a new fear invades me. The worst is welcome, with our clamour, rouse whatever doth inhabit here, or man Or beast appear, if any such dwell in This Cave? We can meet charity or death. What voice with so much passion calls me forth, Ha? Be my protection good heaven: My sons, my murdered sons with ghastly looks, And bruised limbs; why do you come to me thus To fright my withered eyes? 'las I was innocent, It was the King, not I commanded your Untimely death, I have wept for ye boys, And constantly before the Sun awak'd, When the cold dew drops full upon the ground, As if the morn were discontented too. My naked feet o'er many a rugged stone Hath walked, to drop my tears into the seas, For your sad memories. We are no spirits, but your living sons, Preserved without the knowledge of the King, By Archimagus, till a new misfortune Compelled us hither to meet death, we fear, In want of food. Are ye alive? come in, It is no time to be inquisitive; My blessing, I have something to refresh you, Course fare, but such as will keep out sad famine: Humble yourselves and enter, my poor boys, You'll wonder at the change; but we to Heaven Do climb with loads upon our shoulders borne, Nor must we tread on roses, but on thorn. Now we approach the Hermit Dichu's Cell: Are you not weary, Madam? Not yet, Father, In such religious company. You were not Used to this travel; how does my new son, And sweet Emeria? I am blessed on all sides. You have quieted the tempest in my soul, And in this holy peace I must be happy. You will be Spouse to an eternal Bridegroom, And lay the sweet foundation of a rule, That after ages, with devotion, Shall praise and follow. You are, Sir, reserved To bless this Kingdom with your pious government, Your Crown shall flourish, and your blood possess The Throne you shall leave glorious: This Nation Shall in a fair succession thrive, and grow Up the world's Academy, and disperse, As the rich spring of humane and divine Knowledge, clear streams to water foreign Kingdoms, Which shall be proud to owe what they possess In learning, to this great all-nursing Island. May we be worthy of this prophesy. Discourse hath made the way less tedious, We have reached the Cell already, which is much Too narrow to contain us; but beneath These trees, upon their cool and pleasing shades, You may sit down; I'll call upon my Convert: Dichu, my Penitent, come forth, I pray, And entertain some guests I have brought hither, That deserve welcome. I obey that voice. The Queen, and Prince, and Milcho's virtuous daughter Gained to our holy faith.
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)
Take heede, It may be a Lion, or a fierce wolves den; How nature trembles at the thought of death: Though it be prest downe, with the weight of life. I dare not enter, a new feare invades me. The worst is welcome, with our clamor, rouse What ever doth inhabite here, or man Or beast appeare, if any such dwell in This Cave? We can meet charity or death. What voice with so much passion calls me forth, Ha? Be my protection good heaven: My sonnes, my murder'd sonnes with gastly lookes, And bruised limbes; why do you come to me thus To fright my wither'd eyes? 'las I was innocent, It was the King, not I commanded your Vntimely death, I have wept for ye boyes, And constantly before the Sun a wak'd, When the cold dew drops full upon the ground▪ As if the morne were discontented too. My naked feet o're many a rugged stone Hath walk'd, to drop my teares into the seas, For your sad memories. We are no spirits, but your living sons, Preserv'd without the knowledge of the King, By Archimagus, till a new mis-fortune Compell d us hither to meet death, we feare, In want of food. Are yee alive? come in, It is no time to be inquisitive; My blessing, I have something to refresh you, Course fare, but such as will keep out sad famine: Humble your selves and enter, my poore boyes, You'll wonder at the change; but we to Heaven Do climb with loads upon our shoulders borne, Nor must we tread on roses, but on thorne. Now we approach the Hermit Dichu's Cell: Are you not wearie, Madam? Not yet, Father, In such religious company. You were not Us'd to this travell; how does my new son, And sweet Emeria? I am blest on all sides. You have quieted the tempest in my soule, And in this holy peace I must be happie. You will be Spouse to an eternall Bridegroome, And lay the sweet foundation of a rule, That after ages, with devotion, Shall praise and follow. You are, Sir, reserv'd To blesse this Kingdome with your pious government, Your Crowne shall flourish, and your bloud possesse The Throne you shall leave glorious: This Nation Shall in a faire succession thrive, and grow Up the worlds Academie, and disperse, As the rich spring of humane and divine Knowledge, cleare streames to water forraine Kingdomes, Which shall be proud to owe what they possesse In learning, to this great all-nursing Iland. May we be worthy of this prophesie. Discourse hath made the way lesse tedious, We have reach'd the Cell already, which is much Too narrow to containe us; but beneath These trees, upon their coole and pleasing shades, You may sit downe; I'll call upon my Convert: Dichu, my Penitent, come forth, I pray, And entertaine some guests I have brought hither, That deserve welcome. I obey that voyce. The Queene, and Prince, and Milcho's vertuous daughter Gain'd to our holy faith.