The Misfortunes of Arthur (Certain Devices and Shows Presented to Her Majesty) · chunk 1 of 35
Hughes, Thomas / Fulbecke, William · published 1587 · first performed or written 1588 [Feb 28] (Annals) tragedy · before the Court T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.66 · 523 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
SInce thus through channels black of Limbo lake, And deep infernal flood of Stygian pool, The ghastly Caron's boat transported back Thy ghost, from Pluto's pits and glooming shades, To former light once lost by Destinies doom: Where proud Pendragon broiled with shameful lust, Despoiled thee erst of wife, of land, and life: Now (Gorlois) work thy wish, cast here thy gall, Glut on revenge: thy wrath abhors delays. What though (besides Pendragon's poisoned end) The vile reproach he wrought thee by thy fear, Through deep increase of crimes alike is plagued? And that the shame thou suffered'st for his lusts, Reboundeth back, and stifleth in his stock? Yet is not mischief's measure all fulfilleth, Nor wreak sufficient wrought: Thy murdered corpse And Dukedom reft, for heavier vengeance cries. Come therefore blooms of settled mischiefs root, Come each thing else, what fury can invent, Wreak all at once, infect the air with plagues, Till bad to worse, till worse to worst be turned. Let mischiefs know no mean, nor plagues an end. Let th'offsprings sin exceeded the former stock: Let none have time to hate his former fault, But still with fresh supply let punished crime Increase, till time it make a complete sin. Go to: some fact, which no age shall allow, Nor yet conceal: some fact must needs be dared, That for thy horror great and outrage fell Thereof, may well beseem Pendragon's brood. And first, whiles Arthur's navies homewards float Triumphantly bedecked with Roman spoils: Let Guinevere express what frantic moods Distract a wife, when wronging wedlocks rights, Both fond and fell, she loves and loathes at once. Let deep despair pursue, till loathing life Her hateful head in cowl and cloister lurk. Let traitorous Mordred keep his sire from shore. Let Britain rest a prey for foreign powers Let sword and fire still fed with mutual strife Turn all the Kings to ghosts, let civil wars And discord swell till all the realm be torn. even in that soil whereof myself was Duke, Where first my spouse Igerna broke her vow, Where this ungracious offspring was In Cornwall, there, let Mordred's Let Arthur's fatal wound bewray the wrong, The murder vile, the rape of wife and weal, Wherewith their sire incensed both Gods and man: Thus, thus Pendragon's seed so sown and reaped, Thus cursed imps, ill borne, and worse consumed, Shall render just revenge for parents' crimes, And penance due t'assuage my swelling wrath. The whiles O Cassiopaea gem-bright sign, Most sacred sight, and sweet Celestial star, This Clymat's joy, placed in imperial throne With fragrant Olive branch portending peace: And whosoever besides ye heavenly powers (Her stately train with influence divine, And mild aspect all prone to Britain's good) Foreseé what present plagues do threat this Isle: Prevent not this my wreak. For you their rest's A happier age a thousand years to come: An age for peace, religion, wealth, and ease, When all the world shall wonder at your bliss: That, that is yours. Leave this to Gorlois ghost. And see where comes one engine of my hate. With moods and manners fit for my revenge.
nodes 0–67 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 1 of 35 in this edition
Length
523 words · 748 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.662 (cosine to the topic centroid)
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)
SInce thus through channells blacke of Limbo lake, And deépe infernall floude of Stygian poole, The gastly Caron's boate transported backe Thy ghost, from Pluto's pittes and glowming shades, To former light once lost by Destnies doome: Where proude Pendragon broylde with shamefull lust, Dispoylde theé erst of wife, of lande, and life: Nowe (Gorlois) worke thy wish, cast here thy gaule, Glutte on reuenge: thy wrath abhorrs delayes. What though (besides Pendragons poysoned end) The vile reproch he wrought thee by thy phere, Through deépe increase of crymes alike is plagude? And that the shame thou suffredst for his lusts, Reboundeth backe, and stifeleth in his stocke? Yet is not mischiefe's measure all fulfilde, Nor wreake sufficient wrought: Thy murthered corse And Dukedome reft, for heauier vengeance cries. Come therefore bloomes of setled mischiefes roote, Come ech thing else, what furie can inuent, Wreake all at once, infect the ayre with plagues, Till badd to worse, till worse to worst be turnde. Let mischiefes know no meane, nor plagues an end. Let th'ofsprings sinne exceéde the former stocke: Let none haue time to hate his former fault, But still with fresh supplie let punisht cryme Increase, till tyme it make a complet sinne. Goe to: some fact, which no age shall allowe, Nor yet conceale: some fact must neédes be darde, That for thy horror great and outrage fell Thereof, may well beseeme Pendragons broode. And first, whiles Arthurs nauies homewards flott Triumphantly bedeckt with Romaine spoyles: Let Guenouer expresse what franticke moodes Distract a wife, when wronging wedlockes rights, Both fonde and fell, she loues and loathes at once. Let deépe dispaire pursue, till loathing life Her hatefull heade in cowle and cloister lurke. Let traiterous Mordred keépe his sire from shoare. Let Bryttaine rest a pray for forreine powers Let sworde and fire still fedde with mutuall strife Tourne all the Kings to ghoastes, let ciuill warres And discorde swell till all the realme be torne. Euen in that soyle whereof my selfe was Duke, Where first my spowse Igerna brake her vowe, Where this vngracious ofspring was In Cornwell, there, let Mordreds Let Arthurs fatall wounde bewray the wrong, The murther vile, the rape of wife and weale, Wherewith their sire incenst both Gods and man: Thus, thus Pendragons seede so sowne and reapte, Thus cursed imps, ill borne, and worse consum'd, Shall render iust reuenge for parents crimes, And penance due t'asswadge my swelling wath. The whiles O Cassiopaea gempright signe, Most sacred sight, and sweéte Coelestiall starre, This Clymat's ioy, plac'd in imperiall throne With fragrant Oliue branche portending peace: And whosoe'r besides ye heauenly pow'rs (Her stately trayne with influence diuine, And milde aspect all prone to Bryttaine good) Foreseé what present plagues doe threate this Isle: Preuent not this my weake. For you their rest's A happier age a thousand yeares to come: An age for peace, religion, wealth, and ase, When all the world shall wonder at your blisse: That, that is yours. Leaue this to Gorlois ghoast. And seé where com's one engine of my hate. With moods and manners fit for my reuenge.