Peele, George · published 1594 · first performed or written 1589 [1588-1589] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm · 457 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
Villain, a horse. Oh my Lord, if you return you die. Villain I say, give me a horse to fly, To swim the river villain, and to fly. Where shall I find some unfrequented place, Some uncouth walk where I may curse my fill, My stars, my dam, my planets and my nurse, The fire, the air, the water, and the earth, All causes that have thus conspire in one, To nourish and preserve me to this shame, Thou that wert at my birth predominate, Thou fatal star, what planet ere thou be, Spit out thy poison bad, and all the ill That fortune, fate or heaven may bode a man. Thou Nurse infortunate, guilty of all: Thou mother of my life that brought'st me forth, Cursed mayst thou be for such a cursed son, Cursed be thy son with every curse thou hast, Ye Elements of whom consists this clay, This mass of flesh, this cursed crazed corpses, Destroy, dissolve, disturb, and dissipate, What water, earth, and air congealed. Oh my Lord, these ruthless Moores pursue you at the heels, And come amain to put you to the sword. A horse, a horse, villain a horse, That I may take the river straight and fly, Here is a horse my Lord, As swiftly paced as Pegasus, Mount thee thereon, and save thyself by flight. Mount me I will, But may I never pass the river till I be Revenged upon thy soul accursed Abdelmelec, If not on earth, yet when we meet in hell, Before grim Minos, Rodamant, and Aeacus, The combat will I crave upon thy ghost, And drag thee through the loathsome pools, Of Lethe's, Styx, and fiery Phlegethon. Stand traitor, stand ambitious Englishman, Proud Stukeley stand, and stir not ere thou die, Thy forwardness to follow wrongful arms, And leave our famous expedition erst, Intended by his holiness for Ireland, Foully hath here betrayed, and tide us all To ruthless fury of our heathen foe, For which as we are sure to die, Thou shalt pay satisfaction with thy blood. Avaunt base villains, twit ye me with shame Or infamy of this injurious war? When he that is the judge of right and wrong Determines battle as him pleaseth best. But sith my stars bode me this tragic end That I must perish by these barbarous Moores, Whose weapons have made passage for my soul That breaks from out the prison of my breast, Ye proud malicious dogs of Italy Strike on, strike down this body to the earth Whose mounting mind stoops to no feeble stroke. Why suffer we this English man to live? Villain bleed on, thy blood in channels run And meet with those whom thou to death hast done
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)
Villaine, a horse. Oh my Lord, if you returne you die. Villaine I saie, giue me a horse to flie, To swimme the riuer villaine, and to flie. Where shall I finde some vnfrequented place, Some vncouth walke where I may curse my fill, My starres, my dam, my planets and my nurse, The fire, the aire, the water, and the earth, All causes that haue thus conspirde in one, To nourish and preserue me to this shame, Thou that wert at my birth predominate, Thou fatall starre, what planet ere thou be, Spit out thy poison bad, and all the ill That fortune, fate or heauen may bode a man. Thou Nurse infortunate, guiltie of all: Thou mother of my life that broughtst me forth, Curst maist thou be for such a cursed sonne, Curst be thy sonne with euerie curse thou hast, Ye Elements of whome consists this clay, This masse of flesh, this cursed crazed corpes, Destroy, dissolue, disturbe, and dissipate, What water, earth, and aire conieald. Oh my Lorde, these rulthlesse Moores pursue you at the heeles, And come amaine to put you to the sword. A horse, a horse, villaine a horse, That I may take the riuer straight and flie, Here is a horse my Lord, As swiftly pac'd as Pegasus, Mount thee thereon, and saue thy selfe by flight. Mount me I will, But may I neuer passe the riuer till I be Reuengde vpon thy soule accursed Abdilmelec, If not on earth, yet when we meete in hell, Before grim Minos, Rodamant, and Eocus, The cumbat will I craue vpon thy ghost, And drag thee thorough the lothsome pooles, Of Lethes, Stikes, and firie Phlegiton. Stand traitor, stand ambitious English-man, Proud Stukley stand, and stirre not erethou die, Thy forwardnes to follow wrongfull armes, And leaue our famous expedition earst, Intended by his holynes for Ireland, Fouly hath here betraide, and tide vs all To ruthlesse furie of our heathen foe, For which as we are sure to die, Thou shalt paie satisfaction with thy bloud. A uant base villaines, twit ye me with shame Or infamie of this iniurious warre? When he that is the iudge of right and wrong Determines battaile as him pleaseth best. But sith my starres bode me this tragicke end That I must perrish by these barbarous Moores, Whose weapons haue made passage for my soule That breakes from out the prison of my brest, Ye proud malicious dogges of Italy Strike on, strike downe this body to the earth Whose mounting minde stoopes to no feeble stroke. Why suffer we this English man to liue? Villaine bleed on, thy blood in chanels run And meet with those whome thou to death hast doon