Tancred and Gismund (Gismond of Salerne) · chunk 7 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 T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation · 515 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
Since when the Princes hath entombed her Lord Her late deceased husband of renown: Brother, I see, and very well perceive, She hath not closed together in his grave, All sparks of nature, kindness, nor of love: But as she lives, so living may she feel, Such passions as our tender hearts oppress, Subject unto th' impressions of desire: Forwell I wot, my niece was never wrought, Of steel, nor carved from the stony rock, Such stern hardness, we ought not to expect, In her, whose princely heart, and springing years, Yet flowering in the chiefest heat of youth, Is led of force, to feed on such conceits, As easily befalls that age, which asketh ruth Of them, whom nature bindeth by foresight Of their grave years, and careful love to reach, The things that are above their feeble force: And for that cause, dread Lord although. Sister I say. If you esteem, or ought respect my life, Her honour, and the welfare of our house, Forbear, and wade no further in this speech. Your words, are wounds, I very well perceive, The purpose of this smooth oration: This I suspected, when you first began, This fair discourse with us: Is this the end Of all our hopes, that we have promised Unto ourself, by this her widowhood? Would our dear daughter, would our only joy, Would she forsake us? would she leave us now? Before she hath closed up, our dying eyes, And with her tears, bewailed our funeral? No other solace, doth her father crave, But whilst the fates, maintain his dying life, Her healthful presence, gladsome to his soul, Which rather than he willing would forego, His heart desires, the bitter taste of death: Her late marriage, hath taught us to our grief, That in the fruits, of her perpetual sight Consists the only comfort and relief, Of our unwieldy age: for what delight What joy? what comfort? have we in this world, Now grown in years, and overworn with cares, Subject unto the sudden stroke of death, Already falling like the mellowed fruit, And dropping by degrees into our grave. But what revives us? what maintains our soul Within the prison of our withered breast? But our Gismunda and her cheerful sight. O daughter, daughter, what desert of mine, Wherein have I been so unkind to thee? Thou shouldst desire to make my naked house Yet once again stand desolate by thee? O let such fancies vanish with their thoughts, Tell her I am her father, whose estate, Wealth, honour, life, and all that we possess, Wholly relies upon her presence here. Tell her I must account her all my joy, Work as she will: But yet the were unjust, To haste his death that liveth by her fight Her gentle heart abhors such ruthless thoughts. Then let her not give place to these desires. She craves the right that nature challengeth. Tell her the king commandeth otherwise. The king's commandment always should be just. whate'er it be the king's command is just. just to command: but justly must he charge.
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)
Since whenthe Princes hath intoumb'd her Lord Her late disseased husband of renowne: Brother, I see, and verie well perceiue, She hath not clos'de together in his graue, All sparkes of nature, kindnes, nor of loue: But as she liues, so liuing may she feele, Such passions as our tender hearts oppresse, Subiect vnto th impressions of desire: Forwell I wot, my neece was neuer wrought, Of steele, nor carued from the stonie rocke, Such stearne hardnes, we ought not to expect, In her, whose princelie heart, and springing yeares, Yet flowring in the chiefest heat of youth, Is lead offorce, to feed on such conceits, As easilie befalles that age, which asketh ruth Of them, whome nature bindeth by foresight Of their graue yeares, and carefull loue to reach, The things that are aboue their feeble force: And for that cause, dread Lord although. Sister I say. If you esteeme, or ought respect my life, Her honor, and the welfare of our house, Forbeare, and wade no further in this speech. Your words, are wounds, I verie well perceiue, The purpose of this smooth oration: This I suspected, when you first began, This faire discourse with vs: Is this the end Of all our hopes, that we haue promised Vnto ourselfe, by this her widdowhood? Would our deare daughter, would our onely ioy, Would she fsake vs? would she leaue vs now? Before she hath closde vp, our dying eies, And with her teares, bewaild our funerall? No other solace, doth her father craue, But whilst the fates, maintaine his dying life, Her healthfull presence, gladsome to his soule, Which rather then he willing would for-goe, His heart desires, the bitter tast of death: Her late marriage, hath taught vs to our griefe, That in the fruits, of her perpetuall sight Consists the onely comfort and reliefe, Of our vnweldy age: for what delight What ioy? what comfort? haue we in this world, Now growen in yeares, and ouer-worne with cares, Subiect vnto the sodain stroke of death, Already falling like the mellowed fruite, And dropping by degrees into our graue. But what reuiues vs? what maintaines oursoule Within the prison of our withered brest? But our Gismunda and her chearefull sight. O daughter, daughter, what desert of mine, Wherein haue I beene so vnkind to thee? Thou shouldst desire to make my naked house Yet once againe stand desolate by thee? O let such fansies vanish with their thoughts, Tell her I am her father, whose estate, Wealth, honor, life, and all that we possesse, Whollie relies vpon her presence here. Tell her I must account her all my ioy, Worke as she will: But yet the were vniust, To haste his death that liueth by her fight Her gentle hart abhors such ruthles thoughts. Then let her not geue place to these desires. She craues the right that nature chalengeth. Tell her the king commaundeth otherwise. The kings cōmandment alwais should be iust. What ere it be the kings commaund is iust. Iust to commaund: but iustlie must he charge.