The Misfortunes of Arthur (Certain Devices and Shows Presented to Her Majesty) · chunk 33 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 0.71 · 494 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
NOW Gorlois suage thyself. Pride hath his pay: Murder his price: Adultery his desert: Treason his meed: Disloyalty his doom: Wrong hath his wreak: and Guilt his guerdon bearer. Not one abuse erst offered by thy foes But since most sternly punished, is now purged. Where thou didst fall, e'en on the self same soil Pendragon, Arthur, Mordred, and their stock, Found all their foils: not one hath scaped revenge: Their line from first to last quite razed out. Now rest content, and work no further plagues: Let future age be free from Gorlois Ghost. Let Britain henceforth bathe in endless weal. Let Virgo come from Heaven, the glorious Star: The Zodiac's joy: the Planets chief delight: The hope of all the year: the ease of Skies: The Airs relief, the comfort of the Earth. That vertuous Virgo borne for Brytaines bli: That peerless branch of Brute: that sweet remain Of Priam's state: that hope of springing Troy: Which time to come, and many ages hence Shall of all wars compound eternal peace, Let her reduce the golden age again, Religion, ease, and wealth of former world. Yea, let that Virgo come and Saturn's reign, And years oft ten times told expired in peace. A Rule, that else no Realm shall ever find, A Rule most rare, unheard, unseen, unread, The sole example that the world affords. That (Britain) that Renown, yea that is thine. beit so: my wrath is wrought. Ye furies black And ugly shapes, that howl in holes beneath: Thou Orcus dark, and deep Auernas nook, With duskish dens out gnawn in gulfs below, Receive your ghastly charge, Duke Gorlois Ghost: Make room: I gladly thus revenged return. And though your pain surpass, I greet them though: He hates each other Heaven, that haunteth Hell. SEe here by this the tickle trust of time: The false affiance of each mortal force, The wavering weight of Fates: the fickle trace, That Fortune trips: the many mocks of life: The cheerless change: the easeless brunts and broils, That man abides: the restless race he runs. But most of all, see here the peerless pains: The lasting pangs: the stintless griefs: the tears: The sighs: the groans: the fears: the hopes: the hates: The thoughts and cares, that Kingly pomp imparts. What follies then bewitch th'ambitious minds, That thirst for Sceptres pomp the well of woes? Whereof (alas) should wretched man be proud, Whose first conception is but Sin, whose birth But pain, whose life but toil, and needs must die? See here the store of great Pendragon's brood, The one quite dead, the to'ther hastening on, As men, the Son but green, the Sire but ripe: Yet both forestall ere halfe their race were run. As Kings, the mightiest Monarchs in this age, Yet both suppressed and vanquished by themselves. Such is the brittle breath of mortal man, Whiles human Nature works her daily wracks: Such be the crazed crests of glorious Crowns,
nodes 1975–2036 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 33 of 35 in this edition
Length
494 words · 724 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.714 (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)
NOW Gorlois swage thy selfe. Pride hath his pay: Murther his price: Adult'rie his desert: Treason his meéde: Disloyaltie his doome: Wrong hath his wreake: and Guilt his guerdon bear. Not one abuse erst offered by thy foes But since most sternely punisht, is now purg'd. Where thou didst fall, eu'n on the selfe same soile Pendragon, Arthur, Mordred, and their stocke, Found all their foiles: not one hath sapte reuenge: Their line from first to last quite razed out. Now rest content, and worke no further plagues: Let future age be freé from Gorlois Ghost. Let Brytaine henceforth bath in endlesse weale. Let Virgo come from Heauen, the glorious Starre: The Zodiac's ioy: the Planets chiefe delight: The hope of all the yeare: the ease of Skies: The Aires reliefe, the comfort of the Earth. That vertuous Virgo borne for Brytaines bli: That pierelesse braunch of Brute: that sweéte remaine Of Priam's state: that hope of springing Troy: Which time to come, and many ages hence Shall of all warres compound eternall peace, Let her reduce the golden age againe, Religion, ease, and wealth of former world. Yea, let that Virgo come and Saturnes raigne, And yeares oft ten times tolde expirde in peace. A Rule, that else no Realme shall euer finde, A Rule most rare, vnheard, vnseéne, vnread, The sole example that the world affordes. That (Brytaine) that Renowme, yea that is thine. B'it so: my wrath is wrought. Ye furies blacke And vglie shapes, that houle in holes beneath: Thou Orous darke, and deepe Auernas nooke, With duskish dennes out gnawne in gulfes belowe, Receaue your ghastly charge, Duke Gorlois Ghoast: Make roome: I gladly thus reuengde returne. And though your paine surpasse▪ I greete them th: He hates each other Heauen, that haunteth Hell. SEe heére by this the tickle trust of tyme: The false affiance of each mortall force, The wauering waight of Fates: the fickell trace, That Fortune trips: the many mockes of life: The cheerelesse change: the easelesse brunts and broyles, That man abides: the restlesse race he runnes. But most of all, seé héere the peérelesse paines: The lasting panges: the stintlesse greéfes: the teares: The sighes: the grones: the feares: the hopes: the hates: The thoughts and cares, that Kingly pompe impartes. What follies then bewitch thambicious mindes, That thirst for Scepters pompe the well of woes? Whereof (alas) should wretched man be proude, Whose first conception is but Sinne, whose birth But paine, whose life but toyle, and neédes must dye? Sée heére the store of great Pendragons broode, The to'ne quite dead, the to'ther hastening on, As men, the Sonne but greene, the Sire but ripe: Yet both forestalde ere halfe their race were run. As Kinges, the mightiest Monarches in this age▪ Yet both supprest and vanquisht by themselues. Such is the brittle breath of mortall man, Whiles humane Nature workes her dayly wrackes: Such be the crazed crests of glorious Crownes,