The Spanish Tragedy (Hieronimo is Mad Again) · chunk 35 of 41
Kyd, Thomas · published 1592 · first performed or written 1587 [1585-1589; revised c.1597(?) and 1601-2] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 522 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
But may it be that Bel-imperia Vows such revenge as she hath deigned to say: Why then I see that heaven applies our drift, And all the Saints do sit soliciting For vengeance on those cursed murderers madam 'tis true, and now I find it so, I found a letter, written in your name, And in that letter, how Horatio died. Pardon, O pardon Bel-imperia, My fear and care in not believing it, Nor think, I thoughtless think upon a mean, To let his death be unrevenged at full, And here I vow, so you but give consent, And will conceal my resolution, I will ere long determine of their deaths, That causeless thus have murdered my Son. Hieronimo, I will consent, conceal, And aught that may effect for thine avail, join with thee to revenge Horatio's death. On then, whatsoever I devise, Let me entreat you grace my practises. For why, the plots already in mine head, Here they are. How now Hieronimo, what, courting Bel-imperia? I my Lord, such courting as I promise you She hath my heart, but you my Lord have hers. But now Hieronimo or never we are to entreat your help. My help, why my good Lords assure yourselves of me. For you have given me cause, I by my faith have you. It pleased you at the entertainment of the Ambassador, To grace the King so much as with a show, Now were your study so well furnished, As for the passing of the first night's sport, To entertain my Father with the like: Or any such like pleasing motion, Assure yourself it would content them well. Is this all? ay, this is all. Why then i'll fit you, say no more. When I was young I gave my mind, And plied myself to fruitless poetry: Which though it profit the professor nought, Yet is it passing pleasing to the world. And how for that? Marry my good Lord thus. And yet methinks you are too quick with us. When in Toledo there I studied, It was my chance to write a tragedy, See here my Lords. Which long forgot, I found this other day, Now would your Lordship's favour me so much, As but to grace me with your acting it, I mean each one of you to play a part, Assure you it will prove most passing strange, And wondrous plausible to that assembly. What would you have us play a Tragedy? Why Nero thought it no disparagement, And Kings and Emperors have ta'en delight, To make experience of their wits in plays? Nay be not angry good Hieronimo, The Prince but asked a question. In faith Hieronimo and you be in earnest, I'll make one. And I another. Now my good Lord, could you entreat, Your Sister Bel-imperia to make one, For what's a play without a woman in it? Little entreaty shall serve me Hieronomo, For I must needs be employed in your play. Why this is well, I tell you Lordings, It was determined to have been acted, By Gentlemen and scholars too, Such as could tell what to speak.
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)
But may it be that Bel-imperia Vowes such reuenge as she hath daind to say: Why then I see that heauen applies our drift, And all the Saints doe sit soliciting For vengeance on those cursed murtherers Madame tis true, and now I find it so, I found a letter, written in your name, And in that letter, how Horatio died. Pardon, O pardon Bel-imperia, My feare and care in not beleeuing it, Nor thinke, I thoughtles thinke vpon a meane, To let his death be vnreveng'd at full, And heere I vow, so you but giue consent, And will conceale my resolution, I will ere long determine of their deathes, That causles thus haue murderd my Sonne. Hieronimo, I will consent, conceale, And ought that may effect for thine auaile, Ioyne with thee to reuenge Horatoes death. On then, whatsoeuer I deuise, Let me entreat you grace my practises. For why, the plots already in mine head, Heere they are. How now Hieronimo, what, courting Bel-imperi ▪ I my Lord, such courting as I promise you She hath my hart, but you my Lord haue hers. But now Hieronimo or neuer we are to intreate your helpe. My help, why my good Lords assure your selues of me. For you haue giuen me cause, I by my faith haue you. It pleasde you at the entertainment of the Embassadour, To grace the King so much as with a shew, Now were your studie so well furnished, As for the passing of the first nights sport, To entertaine my Father with the like: Or any such like pleasing motion, Assure your selfe it would content them well. Is this all? I, this is all. Why then ile fit you, say no more. When I was youg I gaue my minde, And plide my selfe to fruitles poetrie: Which though it profite the professor naught, Yet is it passing pleasing to the world. And how for that? Marrie my good Lord thus. And yet me thinks you are too quick with vs. When in Tolledo there I studied, It was my chaunce to write a tragedie, See heere my Lords. Which long forgot, I found this other day, Now would your Lordships fauour me so much, As but to grace me with your acting it, I meane each one of you to play a part, Assure you it will proue most passing strange, And wondrous plausible to that assembly. What would you haue vs play a Tragedie? Why Nero thought it no disparagement, And Kings and Emperours haue tane delight, To make experience of their wits in plaies? Nay be not angry good Hieronimo, The Prince but asked a question. In faith Hieronimo and you be in earnest, Ile make one. And I another. Now my good Lord, could you intrear, Your Sister Bel-imperia to make one, For whats a play without a woman in it? Little intreaty shall serue me Hieronomo, For I must needs be imployed in your play. Why this is well, I tell you Lordings, It was determined to haue beene acted, By Gentlemen and schollers too, Such as could tell what to speak.