Peele, George · published 1593 · first performed or written 1591 [1590-1593] (Annals) history · Unknown unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 521 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
'tis charity in men of my degree, To sorrow for our neighbours' heinous sins: And Madam, though some promise love to you, And zeal to Edmund brother to the King, I pray the Heavens you both may soon repent. But might it please your Highness to proceed, Unto this sin a worser doth succeed. For Joan of Acon the supposed child, And daughter of my Lord the English King: Is basely borne begotten of a Friar. Such time as I was their anued in France, His one lie true and lawful son my friends, He is my hope, his son that should succeed. Is Edward of Carnarvan lately borne, Now all the scruples of my troubled mind, I sighing sound within your reverent ears, Oh pray for pity, pray for I must die. Remit my God the folly of my youth, My groaned spirits attends thy mercy's seat, Fathers farewell, commend me to my King, Commend me to my children and my friends, And close mine eyes for death will have his due. Blushing I shut they thine enticing lamps, The wanton baits that make me suck my bane, Pirpus' hardened flames did never reflect, More hideous flames then from my breast arise, What fault more wild unto thy dearest Lord? Our daughter base begotten of a Priest, And Ned my brother partner of my love, Oh that those eyes that lightened Caesar's brain, Oh that those looks that mastered Phucebus brand, Or else those looks that stain Melissa's far, Should shrine discreet desire and lawless lust, Unhappy King dishonoured in thy stock, Hence feigned weeds, unfeigned is my grief. Dread Prince my brother if my vows avail, I call to witness Heaven in my behalf, If zealous prayer might drive you from suspect, I bend my knees and humbly crave this boon, That you will drive misdeeds out of your mind, May never good betide my life my Lord, If once I dreamed upon this damned deed, But my deceased sister and your Queen, Afflicted with recureless maladies, Impatient of her pain grew lunatic, Discovering errors never dreamed upon, To prove this true the greatest men of all, Within their learned volumes do discord, That all extremes, and a-land in nought but extremes, Then think oh King her agony in death, Bereaves her sense and memory at once, So that she spoke she knew nor how nor what. Sir fir, fain would your highness hide your faults, By cunning vows and glozing terms of Art, And well thou mayst delude these listening ears, Yet never assuage by proof this jealous heart, Traitor thy head shall ransom my disgrace, Daughter of darkness, whose accursed bower, The Poet feigned to live upon Avernus, Whereas Cimmerians darkness checks the Sun, David's jealousy afflict me not so sore, Fair Queen Elinor could never be so false, I but she vowed these treasons at her death, A time not fit to fashion monstrous lies, Ah my ungrateful brother as thou art, Could not my love, nay more could not the law, Nay further, could not nature thee allure, For to refrain from this incestuous sin,
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)
Tis charitie in men of my degree, To sorrow for our neighbours hainous sinnes: And Madam, though some promise loue to you, And zeale to Edmund brother to the King, I praie the Heauens you both maie soone repent. But might it please your Highnes to procede, Vnto this sinne a worser doth succeede. For Ione of Acon the supposed child, And daughter of my Lord the English King: Is baselie borne begotten of a Frier. Such time as I was their aied in Fraunce, His one lie true and lawfull sonne my frendes, He is my hope, his sonne that should succeed. Is Edward of Carnaruan latelie borne, Now all the scruples of my troubled minde, I sighing sound within your reuerent eares, Oh prae for pittie, praie for I must die. Remitte my God the follie of my youth, My groaned spirites attends thy mercies seate, Fathers farewell, commend me to my King, Commend me to my children and my friends, And close mine eies for death will haue hi due. Blushing I shut theie thine intiing lampes, The wanton baites that make me sucke my bane, hardned slames did neuer reflct, More hidious slames then from my brest arise, VVhat fault more vilde vnto thy dearest Lord? Our daughter base begotten of a Priest, And Ned my brother partner of my loue, Oh that those eies that lightned Cesars braine, Oh that those lookes that mastered Phucebus brand, Or else those lookes that staine Melisaes farre, Should shrine discreet desire and lawles lust, Vnhappie King dishonored in thy stocke, Hence faigned weedes, vnfaigned is my griefe. Dread Prince my brother if my vowes auaile, I call to wites Heauen in my behalfe, If zealous praier might driue you from suspect, I bend my knees and humblie craue this boone, That you will driue misdeedes out of your minde, Maie neuer good betide my life my Lord, If once I dreamde vppon this damned deede, But my deceased sister and your Queene, Afflicted with recurelesse maladies, Impatient of her paine grew lunatick, Discouering errors neuer dreamde vppon, To proue this true the greatest men of all, Within their learned volumes doe discord, That all extreames, and aland in naught but extremes, Then thinke oh King her agoe in death, Bereaues her sence and memorie at once, So that shee spoke shee knew nor how nor what. Sir fir, fain would your highnes hide your faults, By cunning vowes and glosing tearmes of Arte, And well thou maist delude these listning eares, Yet neuer allwage by proofe this iealous heart, Traitor thy head shal raunsome my disgrace, Daughter of darkenes, whose accursed bowre, The Poet fained to liue vppon Auernus, Whereas Cimerians darkenes checks the Sun, Dauids iealousie afflict me not so sore, Faire Queene Elinor could neuer be so false, I but shee vowed these treasons at her death, A time not fitte to fashion monstrous lies, Ah my vngratefull brother as thou art, Could not my loue, naie more could not the law, Naie further, could not nature thee allure, For to refraine from this incestuous sinne,