2 The Troublesome Reign of King John · chunk 1 of 19
Anonymous · published 1611 · first performed or written 1591 (Annals) history · Queen Elizabeth's Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.82 · 538 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
NOw help good hap to further mine intent, Cross not my youth with any more extremes: I venture life to gain my liberty, And if I die, world's troubles have an end. Fear gins dissuade the strength of my resolve, My hold will fail, and then alas I fall, And if I fall, no question death is next: Better desist, and live in prison still. Prison said I? nay, rather death than so: Comfort and courage come again to me, I'll venture sure: 'tis but a leap for life. Hoe, who is nigh? some body take me up. Where is my mother? let me speak with her. Who hurts me thus? speak hoe, where are you gone? Ay me poor Arthur, I am here alone. Why called I mother, how did I forget? My fall, my fall, hath killed my mother's son. How will she weep at tidings of my death? My death indeed, O God, my bones are burst. Sweet Iesu save my soul, forgive my rash attempt, Comfort my mother, shield her from despair, When she shall hear my tragic overthrow. My heart controls the office of my tongue, My vital powers forsake my bruised trunk, I die I die, heaven take my fleeting soul, And Lady mother all good hap to thee. My Lords of Pembroke and of Salisbury, We must be careful in our policy, To undermine the keepers of this place, Else shall we never find the Prince's grave. My Lord of Essex, take no care for that, I warrant you it was not closely done. But who is this? lo Lords the withered flower, Who in his life shined like the Morning's blush, Cast out a door, denied his burial right, A prey for birds and beasts to gorge upon. O ruthful spectacle! O damned deed! My sinews shake, my very heart doth bleed. Leave childish tears brave Lords of England, If water-floods could fetch his life again, My eyes should conduit forth a sea of tears. If sobs would help, or sorrows serve the turn, My heart should volley out deep piercing plaints. But bootless were't to breathe as many sighs As might eclipse the brightest summers sun, Here rests the help, a service to his ghost. Let not the tyrant causer of this dole, Live to triumph in ruthful massacres, Give hand and heart, and Englishmen to arms, 'tis God's decree to wreak us of these harms. The best advice: But who comes posting here? Right noble Lords, I speak unto you all, The King entreats your soonest speed To visit him, who on your present want, Did ban and curse his birth, himself and me, For executing of his strict command. I saw his passion, and at fittest time, Assured him of his cousins being safe, Whom pity would not let me do to death: He craves your company my Lords in haste, To whom I will conduct young Arthur straight, Who is in health under my custody. In health base villain, were't not I leave the crime To God's revenge, to whom revenge belongs, Here shouldst thou perish on my rapiers point. Call'st thou this health? such health betid thy friends, And all that are of thy condition,
nodes 0–66 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 1 of 19 in this edition
Length
538 words · 700 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.825 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T10 · 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 help good hap to further mine entent, Croſſe not my youth with any more extremes: I venter life to gaine my libertie, And if I die, worlds troubles haue an end. Feare gins diſſwade the ſtrength of my reſolue, My holde will faile, and then alas I fall, And if I fall, no queſtion death is next: Better deſiſt, and liue in priſon ſtill. Priſon ſaid I? nay, rather death than ſo: Comfort and courage come againe to me, Ile venter ſure: tis but a leape for life. Hoe, who is nigh? ſome bodie take me vp. Where is my mother? let me ſpeake with her. Who hurts me thus? ſpeake hoe, where are you gone? Ay me poore Arthur, I am heere alone. Why calld I mother, how did I forget? My fall, my fall, hath killd my mothers ſonne. How will ſhe weepe at tidings of my death? My death indeed, O God, my bones are burſt. Sweet Ieſu ſaue my ſoule, forgiue my raſh attempt, Comfort my mother, ſhield her from deſpaire, When ſhee ſhall heare my tragycke ouerthrowe. My heart controls the office of my tongue, My vitall powers forſake my bruſed trunke, I die I die, heauen take my fleeting ſoule, And Lady mother all good hap to thee. My Lords of Pembrooke and of Salisburie, We muſt be carefull in our policie, To vndermine the keepers of this place, Elſe ſhall we neuer find the Princes graue. My Lord of Eſſex, take no care for that, I warrant you it was not cloſely done. But who is this? lo Lords the withered flowre, Who in his life ſhin'd like the Mornings bluſh, Caſt out a doore, deni'd his buriall right, A prey for birds and beaſts to gorge vpon. O ruthfull ſpectacle! O damned deed! My ſinewes ſhake, my very heart doth bleed. Leaue childiſh teares braue Lords of England, If water-floods could fetch his life againe, My eies ſhould conduit forth a ſea of teares. If ſobs would helpe, or ſorows ſerue the turne, My heart ſhould volley out deepe piercing plaints. But bootleſſe were't to breath as many ſighes As might ecclipſe the brighteſt Sommers ſunne, Here reſts the helpe, a ſeruice to his ghoſt. Let not the tyrant cauſer of this dole, Liue to triumph in ruthfull maſſacres, Giue hand and heart, and Engliſhmen to armes, Tis Gods decree to wreake vs of theſe harmes. The beſt aduice: But who comes poſting here? Right noble Lords, I ſpeake vnto you all, The King entreats your ſooneſt ſpeed To viſit him, who on your preſent want, Did ban and curſe his birth, himſelfe and me, For executing of his ſtrict command. I ſaw his paſſion, and at fitteſt time, Aſſur'd him of his couſins being ſafe, Whom pity would not let me doe to death: He craues your company my Lords in haſte, To whom I will conduct young Arthur ſtraight, Who is in health vnder my cuſtody. In health baſe villaine, were't not I leaue the crime To Gods reuenge, to whom reuenge belongs, Here ſhould'ſt thou periſh on my rapiers point. Call'ſt thou this health? ſuch health betide thy friends, And all that are of thy condition,