Tancred and Gismund (Gismond of Salerne) · chunk 25 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 T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 468 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
Thus was earl Palurin Strangled unto the death, yea after death His heart and blood disbowelled from his breast: But what availeth plaint? it is but breath Forewasted all in vain: why do I rest Here in this place? why go I not and do The hateful message to my charge committed? Oh were it not that I am forced thereto, By a king's will, here would I stay my feet, Ne one whit farther wade in this intent: But I must yield me to my PRINCE's hest, Yet doth this somewhat comfort mine unrest, I am resolved her grief not to behold, But get me gone my message being told. Where is the Princess chamber? Lo where she comes THy father, O Queen, here in this cup hath sent The thing to joy and comfort thee withal Which thou lovedst best, even as thou wast content To comfort him with his chief joy of all. I thank my father, and thee gentle squire, For this thy travel take thou for thy pains This bracelet, and commend me to the king. So now is come the long expected hour, The fatal hour I have so looked for, Now hath my father satisfied his thirst With guiltless blood which he so coveted What brings this cup? (ay me) I thought no less, It is mine Earls, my Counties pierced heart, Dear heart, too dearly hast thou bought my love Extremely rated at too high a price. Ah my sweet heart, sweet waste thou in thy life, But in thy death thou provest passing sweet. A fitter hearse than this of beaten gold, Could not be lotted to so good an heart: My father therefore well provided thus To close and wrap thee up in massy gold, And there withal to send thee unto me, To whom of duty thou dost best belong. My father hath in all his life bewrayed A princely care and tender love to me: But this surpasseth, in his later days To send me this, mine own dear heart to me. Wert thou not mine, dear heart, whilst that my love Danced and played upon thy golden strings? Art thou not mine (dear heart) now that my love Is fled to heaven, and got him golden wings? Thou art mine own, and still mine own shalt be Therefore my father sendeth thee to me. Ah pleasant harborough of my heart's thought! Ah sweet delight, the quickener of my soul Seven times accursed be the hand that wrought Thee this despite, to mangle thee so foul: Yet in this wound I see mine own true love, And in this wound thy magnanimity, And in this wound I see thy constancy. Go gentle heart, go rest thee in thy tomb, Receive this token at thy last farewell:
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)
Thus was Earle Palurin Strangled vnto the death, yea after death His heart and bloud disboweled from his brest: But what auaileth ? it is but breath Forewasted all in vaine: why do I rest Here in this place? why goe I not and doe The hateful message to my charge committed? Oh were it not that I am forc'd thereto, By a kings will, here would I stay my feet, Ne one whit farder wade in this intent: But I must yeeld me to my Princes hest, Yet doth this somewhat comfort mine vnrest, I am resolu'd her griefe not to behold, But get me gone my message being told. Where is the Princesse chamber? Lo where she comes THy father, O Queen, here in this cup hath sent The thing to ioy and comsort thee withall Which thoulouedst best, euen as thou wast content To comfort him with his chiefe ioy of all. I thanke my father, and thee gentle squire, For this thy trauell take thou for thy paines This bracelet, and commend me to the king. So now is come the long expected houre, The fatall hower I haue so looked for, Now hath my father satisfied his thirst With giltlesse bloud which he so coueted What brings this cup? (ay me) I thought no lesse, It is mine Earles, my Counties pearced heart, Deare heart, too dearely hast thou bought my Extreamely rated at too high a price. Ah my sweet heart, sweet wast thou in thy life, But in thy death thou prouest passing sweet. A fitter hearce then this of beaten gold, Could not be lotted to so good an heart: My father therefore well prouided thus To close and wrap thee vp in massie gold, And there withall to send thee vnto me, To whom of duety thou doest best belong. My father hath in all his life bewraid A princely care and tender loue to me: But this surpasseth, in his later dayes To send me this, mine owne deare heart to me. Wert thou not mine, dear hart, whil'st that my loue Daunced and plaid vpon thy golden strings? Art thou not mine (deere heart) now that my loue Is fled to heauen, and got him golden wings? Thou art mine owne, and stil mine own shalt be Therfore my father sendeth thee to me. Ah pleasant harborough of my hearts thought! Ah sweete delight, the quickner of my soule Seuen times accursed be the hand that wrought Thee this despight, to mangle thee so foule: Yet in this wound I see mine owne true loue, And in this wound thy magnanimitie, And in this wound I see thy constancie. Goe gentle heart, go rest thee in thy tombe, Receaue this token at thy last farewell: