Herbert, Mary Sidney / Garnier, RobertSidney Herbert, Mary · published 1595 · first performed or written 1590 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Cruelty to shun you self-cruel are: Self-cruel him from cruelty to spare. Our first affection to ourself is due. He is myself. Next it extends unto Our children, friends, and to our country soil. And you for some respect of wifely love, (Albe scarce wifely) lose your native land, Your children, friends, and (which is more) your life, With so strong charms doth love bewitch our wits: So fast in us this fire once kindled flames. Yet if his harm by yours redress might have, With mine it may be closed in darksome grave. And that, as Alcest to herself unkind, You might exempt him from the laws of death. But he is sure to die: and now his sword Already moisted is in his warm blood, Helpless for any succour you can bring Against death's sting, which he must shortly feel. Then let your love be like the love of old Which Carian Queen did nourish in her heart Of her Mausolus: build for him a tomb Whose stateliness a wonder new may make. Let him, let him have sumptuous funerals: Let grave thereon the horror of his fights: Let earth be buried with unburied heaps. Frame their Pharsaly, and discoloured streams Of deep Enipeus: frame the grassy plain, Which lodged his camp at siege of Mutina. Make all his combats, and courageous acts: And yearly plays to his praise institute: Honour his memory: with doubled care Breed and bring up the children of you both In Caesar's grace: who as a noble Prince Will leave them Lords of this most glorious realm. What shame were that? ah Gods! what infamy? With Antony in his good haps to share, And overlive him dead: deeming enough To shed some tears upon a widow tomb? The after-livers justly might report That I him only for his Empire loved And high estate: and that in hard estate I for another did him lewdly leave? Like to those birds wafted with wandering wings. From foreign lands in spring-time here arrive: And live with us so long as summer's heat, And their food lasts, then seek another soil. And as we see with ceaseless fluttering Flocking of silly flies a brownish cloud To vintaged wine yet working in the ton: Not parting thence while they sweet liquour taste: After, as smoke, all vanish in the air, And of the swarm not one so much appear. By this sharp death what profit can you win? I neither gain nor profit seek therein. What praise shall you of afterages get? Nor praise, nor Glory in my cares are set. What other end ought you respect, than this? My only end my only duty is. Your duty must upon some good be founded? On virtue it, the only good, is grounded. What is that Virtue? That which us beseems. Outrage ourselves? who that beseeming deems? Finish I will my sorrows dying thus. Minish you will your glories doing thus.
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)
Crueltie to shunne you selfe-cruell are: Selfe-cruell him from cruelty to spare. Our first affection to ourselfe is due. He is my selfe. Next it extends vnto Our children, frends, and to our country soile. And you for some respect of wiuely loue, (Albee scarce wiuely) loose your natiue land, Your children, frends, and (which is more) your life, With so strong charmes doth loue bewitch our witts: So fast in vs this fire once kindled flames. Yet if his harme by yours redresse might haue, With mine it may be clos'de in darksome graue. And that, as Alcest to her selfe vnkind, You might exempt him from the lawes of death. But he is sure to die: and now his sword Already moisted is in his warme bloud, Helples for any succour you can bring Against deaths sting, which he must shortly feele. Then let your loue be like the loue of olde Which Carian Queene did nourish in hir heart Of hir Mausolus: builde for him a tombe Whose statelinesse a wonder new may make. Let him, let him haue sumptuous funeralls: Let graue thereon the horror of his fights: Let earth be buri'd with vnburied heaps. Frame their Pharsaly, and discoulour'd stream's Of deepe Enipeus: frame the grassie plaine, Which lodg'd his campe at siege of Mutina. Make all his combats, and couragious acts: And yearely plaies to his praise institute: Honor his memory: with doubled care Breed and bring vp the children of you both In Caesars grace: who as a noble Prince Will leaue them Lords of this most glorious realme. What shame were that? ah Gods! what infamie? With Antony in his good haps to share, And ouerliue him dead: deeming enough To shed some teares vpon a widdow tombe? The after-liuers iustly might report That I him only for his Empire lou'd And high estate: and that in hard estate I for another did him lewdly leaue? Like to those birds wafted with wandring wings. From foraine lands in spring-time here arriue: And liue with vs so long as Somers heate, And their foode lasts, then seeke another soile. And as we see with ceaslesse fluttering Flocking of seelly flies a brownish cloud To vintag'd wine yet working in the tonne: Not parting thence while they sweete liquor taste: After, as smoke, all vanish in the aire, And of the swarme not one so much' appeare. By this sharpe death what profit can you winne? I neither gaine nor profit seeke therein. What praise shall you of after-ages get? Nor praise, nor Glory in my cares are set. What other end ought you respect, then this? My only end my onele duty is. Your dutie must vpon some good be founded? On vertue it, the onely good, is grounded. What is that Vertue? That which vs beseemes. Outrage our selues? who that beseeming deemes? Finish I will my sorrowes dieng thus. Minish you will your glories doing thus.