Marlowe, Christopher · published 1590 · first performed or written 1588 [1587-1588] (Annals) tragedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 515 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
With what a flinty bosom should I joy. The breath of life, and burden of my soul, If not resolved into resolved pains, My bodies mortified lineaments should exercise the motions of my heart, Pierced with the joy of any dignity? O father, if the unrelenting ears Of death and hell be shut against my prayers, And that the spiteful influence of heaven. Deny my soul fruition of her joy, How should I step or stir my hateful feet, Against the inward powers of my heart, Leading a life that only strives to die, And plead in vain, unpleasing sovereignty. Let not thy love exceed thine honour son, Nor bar thy mind that magnanimity, That nobly must admit necessity; Sit up my boy, and with those silken rains, Bridle the steeled stomachs of those jades. My Lord, you must obey his majesty, Since Fate commands, and proud necessity. heavens witness me, with what a broken heart And damned spirit I ascend this seat, And send my soul before my father die, His anguish and his burning agony. Now fetch the hearse of fair Zenocrate, Let it be placed by this my fatal chair, And serve as parcel of my funeral. Then feels your majesty no sovereign ease, Nor may our hearts all drowned in tears of blood, joy any hope of your recovery? Casane no, the Monarch of the earth, And eyeless Monster that torments my soul, Cannot behold the tears ye shed for me, And therefore still augments his cruelty. Then let some God oppose his holy power, Against the wrath and tyranny of death, That his tear-thirsty and unquenched hate, May be upon himself reverberate. Now eyes, enjoy your latest benefit, And when my soul hath virtue of your sight, Pierce through the coffin and the sheet of gold, And glut your longings with a heaven of joy. So, reign my son, scourge and control those slaves Guiding thy chariot with thy Father's hand. As precious is the charge thou undertakest As that which Clymens brainsick son did guide, When wandering Phoebe's ivory cheeks were scorched And all the earth like AEtna breathing fire: Be warned by him, then learn with awful eye To sway a throne as dangerous as his: For if thy body thrive not full of thoughts As pure and fiery as Phyteus' beams, The nature of these proud rebelling jades Will take occasion by the slenderest hair, And draw thee piecemeal like Hippolytus, Through rocks more steep and sharp than Caspian cliffs. The nature of thy chariot will not bear A guide of baser temper than myself, More than heavens coach, the pride of Phaeton. Fal my boies, my dearest friends, farewel, My body feels, my soul doth weep to see Your sweet desires deprived my company, For Tamburlaine, the Scourge of God must die. Meet heaven & earth, & here let all things end For earth hath spent the pride of all her fruit, And heaven consumed his choicest living fire. Let earth and heaven his timeless death deplore, For both their worths will equal him no more,
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)
With what a flinty bosome should I ioy. The breath of life, and burthen of my soule, If not resolu'd into resolued paines, My bodies mortified lineaments should exercise the motions of my heart, Pierc'd with the ioy of any dignity? O father, if the vnrelenting eares Of death and hell be shut against my praiers, And that the spightfull influence of heauen. Denie my soule fruition of her ioy, How should I step or stir my hatefull feete, Against the inward powers of my heart, Leading a life that onely striues to die, And plead in vaine, vnpleasing soueranity. Let not thy loue exceed thyne honor sonne, Nor bar thy mind that magnanimitie, That nobly must admit necessity; Sit vp my boy, and with those silken raines, Bridle the steeled stomackes of those Iades. My Lord, you must obey his maiesty, Since Fate commands, and proud necessity. Heauens witnes me, with what a broken hart And damned spirit I ascend this seat, nd send my soule before my father die, His anguish and his burning agony. Now fetch the hearse of faire Zenocrate, Let it be plac'd by this my fatall chaire, And serue as parcell of my funerall. Then feeles your maiesty no soueraigne ease, Nor may our hearts all drown'd in teares of blood, Ioy any hope of your recouery? Casane no, the Monarke of the earth, And eielesse Monster that torments my soule, Cannot behold the teares ye shed for me, And therefore stil augments his cruelty. Then let some God oppose his holy power, Against the wrath and tyranny of death, That his teare-thyrsty and vnquenched hate, May be vpon himselfe reuerberate. Now eies, inioy your latest benefite, And when my soule hath vertue of your sight, Pierce through the fin and the sheet of gold, And glut your longings with a heauen of ioy. So, raigne my sonne, scourge and controlle those slaues Guiding thy chariot with thy Fathers hand. As precious is the charge thou vndertak'st As that which Clymens brainsicke sonne did guide, When wandring Phoebes Iuory cheeks were scortcht And all the earth like AEtna breathing fire: Be warn'd by him, then learne with awfull eie To sway a throane as dangerous as his: For if thy body thriue not full of thoughtes As pure and fiery as Phyteus beames, The nature of these proud rebelling Iades Wil take occasion by the slenderest haire, And draw thee peecemeale like Hyppolitus, Through rocks more steepe and sharp than Caspian cliftes. The nature of thy chariot wil not beare A guide of baser temper than my selfe, More then heauens coach, the pride of Phaeton. Fal my boies, my dearest friends, farewel, My body feeles, my soule dooth weepe to see Your sweet desires depriu'd my company, For Tamburlaine, the Scourge of God must die. Meet heauen & earth, & here let al things end For earth hath spent the pride of all her fruit, And heauen consum'd his choisest liuing fire. Let earth and heauen his timelesse death deplore, For both their woorths wil equall him no more,