Peele, George / Shakespeare, William · published 1594 · first performed or written 1594 [Jan 23 (24); poss. written 1590-1592] (Annals) tragedy · Pembroke's Men (?) T40 Sin, guilt and violent loss within famil typicality 0.82 · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
Away for thou hast staid us here too long. No grace, no womanhood, ah beastly creature, The blot and enemy to our general name, Confusion fall Nay then I'll stop your mouth, bring thou her husband, This is the hole where Aron bid us hide him. Farewell my sons, see that you make her sure, Near let my heart know merry cheer indeed, Till all the Andronicie be made away: Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor, And let my spleenful sons this Trull deflower. Come on my Lords the better foot before, Strait will I bring you to the loathsome pit, Where I espied the Panther fast a sleep. My sight is very dull what ere it bodes. And mine I promise you, were it not for shame, Well could I leave our sport to sleep a while. What art thou fallen what subtle hole is this, Whose mouth is covered with rude growing briars, Upon whose leaves are drops of new shed blood, As fresh as morning dew distilled on flowers, A very fatal place it seems to me, Speak brother hast thou hurt thee with the fall? Oh brother with the dismal'st object hurt, That ever eye with sight made heart lament. Now will I fetch the King to find them here, That he thereby may have a likely guess, How these were they, that made away his brother. Why dost not comfort me and help me out From this unhollow, and blood stained hole. I am surprised with an uncouth fear, A chilling sweat oreruns my trembling joints, My heart suspects more than mine eye can see. To prove thou hast a true divining heart, and thou look down into this den, And see a fearful sight of blood and death. Aron is gone, and my compassionate heart, Will not permit mine eyes once to behold, The thing where at it trembles by surmise: Oh tell me who it is, for near till now, Was I a child to fear I know not what. Lord Bassianus lies bereaved in blood, All on a heap like to a slaughtered Lamb, In this detested dark blood drinking pit. If it be dark how dost thou know 'tis he. Upon his bloody finger he doth wear A precious ring, that lightens all this hole: Which like a taper in some monument, Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks, And shows the ragged entrails of this pit: So pale did shine the Moon on Priamus, When he by night lay bathed in Maiden blood, O Brother help me with thy fainting hand, If fear hath made thee faint as me it hath, Out of this fell devouring receptacle, As hateful as Ocitus misty mouth. Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out, Or wanting strength to do thee so much good, I may be plucked into the swallowing womb, Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus grave: I have no strength to pluck thee to the brinck,
seed 43: T37 · seed 44: T36 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Away for thou hast staide vs here too long. No grace, no womanhood, ah beastly creature, The blot and enemie to our generall name, Confusion fall Nay then Ile stop your mouth, bring thou her husband, This is the hole where Aron bid vs hide him. Farewell my sons, see that you make her sure, Nere let my hart know merry cheare indeede, Till all the Andronicie be made away: Now will I hence to seeke my louely Moore, And let my spleenfull sonnes this Trull defloure. Come on my Lords the better foot before, Straight will I bring you to the lothsome pit, VVhere I espied the Panther fast a sleepe. My sight is verie dull what ere it bodes. And mine I promise you, were it not for shame, VVell could I leaue our sport to sleepe a while. VVhat art thou fallen what subtill hole is this, VVhose mouth is couered with rude growing briers, Vpon whose leaues are drops of new shed blood, As fresh as morning dew distild on flowers, A verie fatall place it seemes to mee, Speake brother hast thou hurt thee with the fall? Oh brother with the dismalst obiect hurt, That euer eie with sight made hart lament. Now will I fetch the King to finde them here, That he thereby may haue a likely gesse, How these were they, that made away his brother. VVhy dost not comfort me and help me out From this vnhollow, and blood stained hole. I am surprised with an vncouth feare, A chilling sweat oreruns my trembling ioynts, My hart suspects more than mine eie can see. To proue thou hast a true diuining hart, and thou looke downe into this den, And see a fearefull ight of blood and death. Aron is gone, and my compassionate hart, Will not permit mine eyes once to behold, The thing where at it trembles by furmise: Oh tell me who it is, for nere till now, VVas I a child to feare I know not what. Lord Bassianus lies bereaud in blood, All on a heape like to a slaughtered Lambe, In this detested darke blood drinking pit. If it be darke how dost thou know tis hee. Vpon his bloody finger he doth weare A pretious ring, that lightens all this hole: VVhich like a tape in some monument, Doth shine vpon the dead mans earthy cheekes, And shewes the ragged intrals of this pit: So pale did shine the Moone on Pramus, VVhen he by night lay bathd in Maiden blood, O Brother help me with thy fainting hand, If fear hath made thee faint as me it hath, Out of this fell deuouring receptacle, As hatefull as Ocitus mistie mouth. Reach me thy hand, that I may helpe thee ou, Or wanting strength to doe thee so much good, I may be pluckt into the swallowing wombe, Of this deepe pit, poore Bassianus graue: I haue no strength to plucke thee to the brinck,