Tancred and Gismund (Gismond of Salerne) · chunk 2 of 29
Wilmot, Robert / Hatton, Christopher / Noel, HenryAl., G.Stafford, Roderick · published 1591 · first performed or written 1567 [1567-1568; revised 1591] (Annals) tragedy · before the Court unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
And in this place, such wonders shall ye hear, As these your stubborn, and disdainful hearts, In melting tears, and humble yielding fear, Shall soon relent by sight of others smarts. This princely palace, will I enter in, And there inflame, the fair Gismunda, so enraging all her secret veins within, Through fiery love, that she shall feel much woe. Too late repentance, thou shalt bend my bow. Vain hope, take out my pale dead heavy shaft, Thou fair Resemblance, foremost forth shalt go, With Brittle joy: myself will not be least, But after me, comes death, and deadly pain. Thus shall ye march, till we return again, meanwhile, sit still, and here I shall you show Such wonders, that at last with one accord, Ye shall relent, and say that now ye know, Love rules the world, Love is a mighty Lord, " O Vain, unsteadfast state of mortal things, Who trusts this world, leans to a brittle stay, " Such fickle fruit, his flattering bloom forth brings Ere it be ripe, it falleth to decay, The joy and bliss that late I did possess, In weal at will, with one I loved best, Is turned now into so deep distress, As teacheth me to know the world's unrest. For neither wit nor princely stomachs serve Against his force that slays without respect, The noble and the wretch: ne doth reserve, So much as one, for worthiness elect. Ah me dear Lord, what well of tears may serve To feed the streams of my foredulled eyes, To weep thy death, as thy death doth deserve, And wail thy want in full sufficing wise. Ye lamps of heaven, and all ye heavenly powers, Wherein did he procure your high disdain, He never sought with vast huge mounting towers To reach aloft, and overview your reign, Or what offence of mine was it unwares, That thus your fury should on me be thrown, To plague a woman with such endless cares, I fear that envy hath the heavens this shown. The Sun his glorious virtues did disdain, Mars at his manhood mightily repined, Yea all the Gods no longer could sustain, Each one to be excelled in his kind. For he my Lord surpassed them every one, Such was his honour all the world throughout, But now my love, oh whither art thou gone? I know thy ghost doth hover here about, Expecting me (thy heart) to follow thee: And I (dear love) would fain dissolve this strife, But stay a while, I may perhaps foresee Some means to be disburdened of this life, And to discharge the duty of a wife, Which is, not only in this life to love, But after death her fancy not remove. meanwhile accept of these our daily rites, Which with my maidens I shall do to thee, Which is, in songs to cheer our dying spirits With hymns of praises of thy memory.
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)
And in this place, such wonders shall ye heare, As these your stubborne, and disdainfull hearts, In melting teares, and humble yeelding feare, Shall soone relent by sight of others smarts. This princely pallace, will I enter in, And there inflame, the faire Gismunda, so Inraging all her secret vaines within, Through firie loue, that she shall feele much wo. Too late repentance, thou shalt bend my bow. Vaine hope, take out my pale dead heauie shaft, Thou faire Resemblance, formost forth shalt go, With Brittle joy: my selfe will not be least, But after me, comes death, and deadly paine. Thus shall ye march, till we returne againe, Meane while, sit still, and here I shall you shew Such wonders, that at last with one accord, Ye shall relent, and saie that now ye know, Loue rules the world, Loue is a mightie Lord, "OVaine, vnsteadfast state of mortall things, "Who trusts this world, leans to a brittle stay, "Such fickle fruit, his flattering bloome forth brings "Ere it be ripe, it falleth to decay, The ioy and blisse that late I did possesse, In weale at will, with one I loued best, Is turned now into so deepe distresse, As teacheth me to know the worlds vnrest. For neither wit nor princely stomackes serue Against his force that slaies without respect, The noble and the wretch: ne doth reserue, So much as one, for worthines elect. Ah me deare Lord, what well of teares may serue To feed the streames of my foredulled eies, To weepe thy death, as thy death doth deserue, And waile thy want in full sufficing wise. Ye lampes of heauen, and all ye heauenly powers, Wherein did he procure your high disdaine, He neuer sought with vast huge mounting towers To reach aloft, and ouer-view your raigne, Or what offence of mine was it vnwares, That thus your furie should on me be throwen, To plague a woman with such endles cares, I feare that enuie hath the heauens this showen. The Sunne his glorious vertues did disdaine, Mars at his manhood mightily repind, Yea all the Gods no longer could sustaine, Each one to be excelled in his kind. For he my Lord surpast them euerie one, Such was his honor all the world throughout, But now my loue, oh whither art thou gone? I know thy ghost doth houer here about, Expecting me (thy heart) to follow thee: And I (deare loue) would faine dissolue this rife, But staie a while, I may perhaps foresee Some meanes to be disburdend of this life, And to discharge the dutie of a wife, Which is, not onely in this life to loue, But after death her fancie not remoue. Meane while accept of these our daily rites, Which with my maidens I shall do to thee, Which is, in songs to cheere our dying spirits With hymnes of praises of thy memorie.