2 Henry the Sixth (The First Part of the Contention betwixt the Two Famous Houses of York and Lancaster) · chunk 21 of 32
Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher / Shakespeare, William · published 1600 · first performed or written c.1590 (Annals) history · Pembroke's Men (?) T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.70 · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
And if I go, I cannot live: but here to die, What were it else, but like a pleasant slumber In thy lap? Here could I, could I, breeath my soul into the air, As mild and gentle as the new borne babe, That dies with mother's dug between his lips, Where from thy sight I should be raging mad, And call for thee to close mine eyes, Or with thy lips to stop my dying soul, That I might breathe it so into thy body, And then it lived in sweet Elyziam; By thee to die, were but to die in jest, From thee to die, were torment more than death, O let me stay, befall what may befall. Oh mightst thou stay with safety of thy life, Then shouldst thou stay, but heavens deny it, And therefore go, but hope ere long to be repealed. I go. And take my heart with thee. A jewel locked into the woefull'st cask, That ever yet contained a thing of worth; Thus like a split bark so sunder we: This way fall I to death. This way for me. O death, if thou wilt let me live but one whole year, He give thee as much gold as will purchase such another Island. Oh see my lord of Salisbury how he is troubled, Lord Cardinal, remember Christ must have thy soul. Why died he not in his bed? What would you have me to do then? Can I make men live whether they will or no? Sirrah, go fetch me the strong poison which the Apothecary sont Oh see where Duke Humphreys ghost doth stand, (me: And stars me in the face: look, look, comb down his hair, So now he's gone again: Oh, oh, oh. See how the pangs of death doth gripe his heart, Lord Cardinal, if thou diest assured of heavenly bliss, Hold up thy hand, and make some sign to us. Oh see, he dies, and makes no sign at all, Oh God forgive his soul. So bad an end did never none behold, But as his death, so was his life in all. Forbear to judge, good Salisbury forbear, For God will judge us all: Go take him hence, and see his funerals be performed. Bring forward these prisoners that scorned to yield, Unlade their goods with speed, and sink their ship, Here master, this prisoner I give to you: This other, the Master's Mate shall have, And Walter Whickmore, thou shalt have this man, And let them pay their ransoms ere they pass. Walter! How now, what dost thou fear me? Thou shalt have better cause anon. It is thy name affrights me, not thyself: I do remember well, a cunning wizard told me, That by Walter I should die: Yet let not that make thee bloody minded, Thy name being rightly sounded, Is Gualther, not Walter. Gualther or Walter, all's on to me, I am the man must bring thee to thy death.
Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher / Shakespeare, William
Publication year (edition)
1600
First performance / composition (Annals)
c.1590
First performance (BritDrama)
1591 [1587-1592]
Company (BritDrama)
Pembroke's Men (?)
Genre (British Drama)
history
Play type
Adult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 222 · TCP A68931 · DEEP 180
Edition role
Representative edition — used in the analysis
Position
nodes 1136–1197 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 21 of 32 in this edition
Length
499 words · 643 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.703 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
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)
And if I go, I cannot liue: but here to die, VVhat were it elſe, but like a pleaſant ſlumber In thy lap? Here could I, could I, breeath my ſoule into the ayre, As milde and gentle as the new borne babe, That dies with mothers dug between his lips, VVhere from thy ſight I ſhould be raging mad, And call for thee to cloſe mine eies, Or with thy lips to ſtop my dying ſoule, That I might breath it ſo into thy body, And then it liude in ſweete Elyziam; By thee to die, were but to die in ieaſt, From thee to die, were torment more then death, O let me ſtay, befall what may befall. Oh mightſt thou ſtay with ſafetie of thy life, Then ſhouldſt thou ſtay, but heauens deny it, And therefore go, but hope ere long to be repeald. I goe. And take my heart with thee. A iewell lockt into the wofulſt caske, That euer yet containd a thing of worth; Thus like a ſplitted barke ſo ſunder we: This way fall I to death. This way for me. O death, if thou wilt let me liue but one whole yeare, He giue thee as much gold as wil purchaſe ſuch another Iland. Oh ſee my lord of Salsbury how he is troubled, Lord Cardinall, remember Chriſt muſt haue thy ſoule. Why died he not in his bed? What would you haue me to do then? Can I make men liue whether they will or no? Sirra, go fetch me the ſtrong poiſon which the Pothicary ſont Oh ſee where Duke Humphreys ghoſt doth ſtand, (me: And ſtares me in the face: looke, look, combe down his haire, So now hees gone againe: Oh, oh, oh. See how the pangs of death doth gripe his heart, Lord Cardinal, if thou dieſt aſſured of heauenly bliſſe, Hold vp thy hand, and make ſome ſigne to vs. Oh ſee, he dies, and makes no ſigne at all, Oh God forgiue his ſoule. So bad an end did neuer none behold, But as his death, ſo was his life in all. Forbeare to iudge, good Salsbury forbeare, For God will iudge vs all: Go take him hence, and ſee his funeralls be performde. Bring forward theſe priſoners that ſcornd to yeeld, Vnlade their goods with ſpeed, and ſincke their ſhip, Here maſter, this priſoner I giue to you: This other, the Maſters Mate ſhall haue, And Walter Whickmore, thou ſhalt haue this man, And let them pay their ranſomes ere they paſſe. Walter! How now, what doeſt thou feare me? Thou ſhalt haue better cauſe anon. It is thy name affrights me, not thy ſelfe: I do remember well, a cunning wiſard told me, That by Walter I ſhould die: Yet let not that make thee bloudie minded, Thy name being rightly ſounded, Is Gualter, not Walter. Gualter or Walter, all's on to me, I am the man muſt bring thee to thy death.