Peele, George / Shakespeare, William / Middleton, Thomas · published 1623 · first performed or written 1594 [Jan 23 (24); poss. written 1590-1592] (Annals) tragedy · Pembroke's Men (?) unassigned nearest T40 Sin, guilt and violent loss within famil · 494 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
No Garace, 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 Aaron bid us hide him. Farewell my Sons, see that you make her sure, Near let my heart know merry cheer indeed, Till all the Andronicuses 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 asleep. 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 Briers, Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed-blood, As fresh as morning's 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 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 unhallowed and bloodstained 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, Aaron and thou look down into this den, And see a fearful sight of blood and death. Aaron is gone, And my compassionate heart Will not permit mine eyes once to behold The thing whereat it trembles by surmise: Oh tell me how it is, for ne'er till now Was I a child, to fear I know not what. Lord Bassianus lies imbrued here, All on a heap like to the 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 the Hole: Which like a Taper in some Monument, Doth shine upon the dead man's earthly cheeks, And shows the ragged entrails of the pit: So pale did shine the Moon on Pyramus, 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 brink. Nor I no strength to climb without thy help.
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)
No Garace, No womanhood? Ah beaſtly creature, The blot and enemy to our generall name, Confuſion fall— Nay then Ile ſtop your mouth Bring thou her husband, This is the Hole where Aaron bid vs hide him. Farewell my Sonnes, ſee that you make her ſure, Nere let my heart know merry cheere indeed, Till all the Andronici be made away: Now will I hence to ſeeke my louely Moore, And let my ſpleenefull Sonnes this Trull defloure. Come on my Lords, the better foote before, Straight will I bring you to the lothſome pit, Where I eſpied the Panther faſt aſleepe. My ſight is very dull what ere it bodes. And mine I promiſe you, were it not for ſhame, Well could I leaue our ſport to ſleepe a while. What art thou fallen? What ſubtile Hole is this, Whoſe mouth is couered with Rude growing Briers, Vpon whoſe leaues are drops of new-ſhed-blood, As freſh as mornings dew diſtil'd on flowers, A very fatall place it ſeemes to me: Speake Brother haſt thou hurt thee with the fall? Oh Brother, With the diſmal'ſt obiect That euer eye with ſight made heart lament. Now will I fetch the King to finde them heere, That he thereby may haue a likely geſſe, How theſe were they that made away his Brother. Why doſt not comfort me and helpe me out, From this vnhallow'd and blood-ſtained Hole? I am ſurpriſed with an vncouth feare, A chilling ſweat ore-runs my trembling ioynts, My heart ſuſpects more then mine eie can ſee. To proue thou haſt a true diuining heart, Aaron and thou looke downe into this den, And ſee a fearefull ſight of blood and death. Aaron is gone, And my compaſſionate heart Will not permit mine eyes once to behold The thing whereat it trembles by ſurmiſe: Oh tell me how it is, for nere till now Was I a child, to feare I know not what. Lord Baſſianus lies embrewed heere, All on a heape like to the ſlaughtred Lambe, In this deteſted, darke, blood-drinking pit. If it be darke, how dooſt thou know 'tis he? Vpon his bloody finger he doth weare A precious Ring, that lightens all the Hole: Which like a Taper in ſome Monument, Doth ſhine vpon the dead mans earthly cheekes, And ſhewes the ragged intrailes of the pit: So pale did ſhine the Moone on Piramus, When he by night lay bath'd in Maiden blood: O Brother helpe me with thy fainting hand. If feare hath made thee faint, as mee it hath, Out of this fell deuouring receptacle, As hatefull as Ocitus miſtie mouth. Reach me thy hand, that I may helpe thee out, 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 brinke. Nor I no ſtrength to clime without thy help.