The Spanish Tragedy (Hieronimo is Mad Again) · chunk 11 of 41
Kyd, Thomas · published 1592 · first performed or written 1587 [1585-1589; revised c.1597(?) and 1601-2] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
What I have said is true, and shall for me, Be still concealed from Bel-imperia. Besides your honours liberality, Deserves my duteous service, even till death. Let this be all that thou shalt do for me, Be watchful when, and where these lovers meet, And give me notice in some secret sort. I will my Lord. Then shalt thou find that I am liberal, Thou know'st that I can more advance thy state Then she, be therefore wise and fail me not. Go and attend her as thy custom is, lest absence make her think thou dost amiss. Why so: T am armis quam ingenio: Where words prevail not, violence prevails. But gold doth more than either of them both. How likes Prince Balthazar this stratagem? Both well, and ill: it makes me glad and sad: Glad, that I know the hinderer of my love, Sad, that I fear she hates me whom I love. Glad, that I know on whom to be revenged, Sad, that she'll fly me if I take revenge. Yet must I take revenge or die myself, For love resisted grows impatient. I think Horatio be my destined plague, First in his hand he brandished a sword, And with that sword he fiercely waged war, And in that war he gave me dangerous wounds, And by those wounds he forced me to yield, And by my yielding I became his slave. Now in his mouth he carries pleasing words, Which pleasing words do harbour sweet conceits, Which sweet conceits are limned with sly deceits, Which sly deceits smooth Bel-imperia's ears, And through her ears dive down into her heart, And in her heart set him where I should stand. Thus hath he ta'en my body by his force, And now by sleight would captivate my soul: But in his fall i'll tempt the destinies, And either lose my life, or win my love. Let's go my Lord, your staying stays revenge, Do you but follow me and gain your love, Her favour must be won by his remove. Now madam, since by favour of your love, Our hidden smoke is turned to open flame: And that with looks and words we feed our thought, Two chief contents, where more cannot be had. Thus in the midst of loves fair blandishments, Why show you sign of inward languishments. My heart (sweet friend) is like a ship at sea, She wisheth port, where riding all at ease, She mad repair what stormy times have worn: And leaning on the shore may sing with joy, That pleasure follows pain, and bliss annoy. Possession of thy love is th'only port, Wherein my heart with fears and hopes long tossed, Each hour doth wish and long to make resort, There to repair the joys that it hath lost: And sitting safe to sing in Cupid's choir, That sweetest bliss is crown of loves desire.
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)
What I haue saide is true, and shall for me, Be still conceald from Bel-imperia. Besides your Honors liberalitie, Deserues my duteous seruice, euen till death. Let this be all that thou shalt doe for me, Be watchfull when, and where these louers meete, And giue me notice in some secret sort. I will my Lord. Then shalt thou finde that I am liberall, Thou knowst that I can more aduaunce thy state Then she, be therefore wise and faile me not. Goe and attend her as thy custome is, Least absence make her think thou doost amisse. Why so: T am armis quam ingenio: Where words preuaile not, violence preuailes. But golde doth more then either of them both. How likes Prince Balthazar this stratageme? Both well, and ill: it makes me glad and sad: Glad, that I know the hinderer of my loue, Sad, that I feare she hates me whome I loue. Glad, that I know on whom to be reueng'd, Sad, that sheele flie me if I take reuenge. Yet must I take reuenge or dye my selfe, For loue resisted growes impatient. I think Horatio be my destinde plague, First in his hand he brandished a sword, And with that sword he fiercely waged warre, And in that warre he gaue me dangerous wounds, And by those wounds he forced me to yeeld, And by my yeelding I became his slaue. Now in his mouth he carries pleasing words, Which pleasing wordes doe harbour sweet conceits, Which sweet conceits are lim'd with slie deceits, Which slie deceits smooth Bel-imperias eares, And through her eares diue downe into her hart, And in her hart set him where I should stand. Thus hath he tane my body by his force, And now by sleight would captiuate my soule: But in his fall ile tempt the destinies, And either loose my life, or winne my loue. Lets goe my Lord, your staying staies reuenge, Doe you hut follow me and gaine your loue, Her fauour must be wonne by his remooue. Now Madame, since by fauour of your loue, Our hidden smoke is turnd to open flame: And that with lookes and words we feed our though▪ Two chiefe contents, where more cannot be had. Thus in the midst of loues faire blandishments, Why shew you signe of inward lan guishments. My hart (sweet freend) is like a ship at sea, She wisheth port, where riding all at ease, She mad repaire what stormie times haue worne: And leaning on the shore may sing with ioy, That pleasure followes paine, and blisse annoy. Possession of thy loue is th'onely port, Wherein my hart with feares and hopes long tost, Each howre doth wish and long to make resort, There to repaire the ioyes that it hath lost: And sitting safe to sing in Cupids quire, That sweetest blisse is crowne of loues desire.