Greene, Robert · published 1594 · first performed or written 1589 [1586-1590] (Annals) comedy · Queen Elizabeth's Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.70 · 475 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Thou seest I single thee the field, And what I spoke, I'll maintain with my sword: Stand on thy guard I cannot scold it out. And if thou kill me, think I have a son, That lives in Oxford in the Brodgate's hall, Who will revenge his father's blood with blood. And Serlsbie I have there a lusty boy, That dares at weapon buckle with thy son, And lives in Broadgates' too as well as thine, But draw thy Rapier for we'll have about. Now lusty younkers look within the glass, And tell me if you can discern your sires. Serlsbie 'tis hard, thy father offers wrong, To combat with my father in the field. Lambert thou liest, my fathers is the abuse, And thou shalt find it, if my father harm. How goes it sirs. Our fathers are in combat hard by Fresingfield. Sat still my friends and see the event. Why stand'st thou Serlsbie doubtst thou of thy life, A veny man, fair Margaret craves so much. Then this for her. Ah well thrust. But mark the ward. Oh I am slain. And I, Lord have mercy on me. My father slain, Serlby ward that. And so is mine Lambert, I'll quite thee well. O strange strattagem. See Friar where the fathers both lie dead. Baconthy magic doth effect this massacre: This glass prospective worketh many woes, And therefore seeing these brave lusty brutes, These friendly youths did perish by thine art, End all thy magic and thine art at once: The poniard that did end the fatal lives, Shall break the cause efficient of their woes, So fade the glass, and end with it the shows, That Necromancy did infuse the crystal with. What means learned Bacon thus to break his glass. I tell thee Bungay it reputes me sore, That ever Bacon meddled in this art, The hours I have spent in pyromantic spells, The fearful tossing in the latest night, Of papers full of Necromantic charms, Conjuring and adjuring devils and fiends, With stole and albe and strange Pentaganon, The wresting of the holy name of God, As Sother, Elaim, and Adonaie, Alpha, Manoth, and Tetragramiton, With praying to the five-fould powers of heaven, Are instances that Bacon must be damned, For using devils to countervail his God. Yet Bacon cheer thee, drown not in despair, Sins have their salves repentance can do much, Think mercy sits where justice holds her seat, And from those wounds those bloody Iews did pierce Which by thy magic oft did bleed a fresh, From thence for thee the dew of mercy drops, To wash the wrath of high Iehouahs ire, And make thee as a new borne babe from sin, Bungay I'll spend the remnant of my life In pure devotion praying to my God, That he would save what Bacon vainly lost.
nodes 1510–1573 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 28 of 32 in this edition
Length
475 words · 653 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.697 (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)
Thou ſeeſt I ſingle thee the field, And what I ſpake, Ile maintaine with my ſword: Stand on thy guard I cannot ſcold it out. And if thou kill me, thinke I haue a ſonne, That liues in Oxford in the Brodgates hall, Who will reuenge his fathers bloud with bloud. And Serlsbie I haue there a luſty boy, That dares at weapon buckle with thy ſonne, And liues in Broadgates too as well as thine, But draw thy Rapier for weele haue about. No luſtie yonkers looke within the glaſſe, And tell me if you can diſcerne your ires. Serlsbie tis hard, thy father offers wrong, To combat with my father in the field. Lambert thou lieſt, my fathers is the abuſe, And thou ſhalt find it, if my father harme. How goes it ſirs. Our fathers are in combat hard by Freſingfield. Sit ſtill my friendes and ſee the euent. Why ſtandſt thou Serlsbie doubtſt thou of thy life, A venie man, faire Margret craues ſo much. Then this for her. Ah well thruſt. But marke the ward. Oh I am ſlaine. And I, Lord haue mercie on me. My father ſlaine, Serlby ward that. And ſo is mine Lambert, Ile quite thee well. O ſtrange ſtrattagem. See Frier where the fathers both lie dead. Baconthy magicke doth effect this maſſacre: This glaſſe proſpectiue worketh manie woes, And therefore ſeeing theſe braue luſtie brutes, Theſe friendly youths did periſh by thine art, End all thy magicke and thine art at once: The poniard that did end the fatall liues, Shall breake the cauſe efficiat of their woes, So fade the glaſſe, and end with it the ſhowes, That Nigromancie did infuſe the chriſtall with. What means learned Bacon thus to breake his glaſſe. I tell thee Bungay it repents me ſore, That euer Bacon medled in this art, The houres I haue ſpent in piromanticke ſpels, The fearefull toſsing in the lateſt night, Of papers full of Nigromanticke charmes, Coniuring and adiuring diuels and fiends, With ſtole and albe and ſtrange Pentaganon, The wreſting of the holy name of God, As Sother, Elaim, and Adonaie, Alpha, Mnoth, and Tetragramiton, With praying to the fiue-fould powers of heaue, Are inſtances that Bacon muſt be damde, For vſing diuels to counteruaile his God. Yet Bacon cheere thee, drowne not in deſpaire, Sinnes haue their ſalues repentance can do much, Thinke mercie ſits where Iuſtice holds her ſeate, And from thoſe wounds thoſe bloudie Iews did pierce Which by thy magicke oft did bleed a freſh, From thence for thee the dew of mercy drops, To waſh the wrath of hie Iehouahs ire, And make thee as a new borne babe from ſinne, Bungay Ile ſpend the remnant of my life In pure deuotion praying to my God, That he would ſaue what Bacon vainly loſt.