Marlowe, Christopher / Nashe, Thomas · published 1594 · first performed or written 1586 [c.1585-1586; possibly 1591] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Chapel (first) (Oxford's Boys) unassigned nearest T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma · 504 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
Speakers not Aeneas like a Conqueror? O blessed tempests that did drive him in, O happy sand that made him run aground: Henceforth you shall be our Carthage Gods: ay, but it may be he will leave my love, And seek a foreign land called Italy: O that I had a charm to keep the winds Within the closure of a golden ball, Or that the Tyrrhen sea were in mine arms, That he might suffer shipwreck on my breast, As oft as he attempts to hoist up sail: I must prevent him, wishing will not serve: Go, bid my Nurse take young Ascanius, And bear him in the country to her house, Aeneas will not go without his son: Yet lest he should, for I am full of fear, Bring me his oars, his tackling, and his sails: What if I sink his ships? O he'll frown: Better he frown, than I should die for grief: I cannot see him frown, it may not be: Armies of foes resolved to win this town, Or impious traitors vowed to have my life, Affright me not, only Aeneas frown Is that which terrifies poor Dido's heart: Not bloody spears appearing in the air, Presage the downfall of my Empery, Nor blazing Comets threatens Dido's death, It is Aeneas frown that ends my days: If he forsake me not, I never die, For in his looks I see eternity, And he'll make me immortal with a kiss. Your Nurse is gone with young Ascanius, And here's Aeneas tackling, oars and sails. Are these the sails that in despite of me, Packed with the winds to bear Aeneas hence? I'll hang ye in the chamber where I lie, Drive if you can my house to Italy: I'll set the casement open that the winds May enter in, and once again conspire Against the life of me poor Carthage Queen: But though he go, he stays in Carthage still, And let rich Carthage fleet upon the seas, So I may have Aeneas in mine arms. Is this the wood that grew in Carthage plains, And would be toiling in the watery billows, To rob their mistress of her Trojan guest? O cursed tree, hadst thou but wit or sense, To measure how I prize Aeneas love, Thou wouldst have leapt from out the Sailors hands, And told me that Aeneas meant to go: And yet I blame thee not, thou art but wood. The water which our Poets term a Nymph, Why did it suffer thee to touch her breast, And shrunk not back, knowing my love was there? The water is an Element, no Nymph, Why should I blame Aeneas for his flight? O Dido, blame not him, but break his oars, These were the instruments that launched him forth, There's not so much as this base tackling too, But dares to heap up sorrow to my heart: Was it not you that hoist up these sails? Why burst you not, and they fell in the seas?
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)
Speakers not Aeneas like a Conqueror? O blessed tempests that did driue him in, O happie sand that made him runne aground: Henceforth you shall be our Carthage Gods: I, but it may be he will leaue my loue, And seeke a forraine land calde Italy: O that I had a charme to keepe the windes Within the closure of a golden ball, Or that the Tyrrhen sea were in mine armes, That he might suffer shipwracke on my breast, As oft as he attempts to hoyst vp saile: I must preuent him, wishing will not serue: Goe, bid my Nurse take yong Ascanius, And beare him in the countrey to her house, Aeneas will not goe without his sonne: Yet lest he should, for I am full of feare, Bring me his oares, his tackling, and his sailes: What if I sinke his ships? O heele frowne: Better he frowne, then I should dye for griefe: I cannot see him frowne, it may not be: Armies of foes resolu'd to winne this towne, Or impious traitors vowde to haue my life, Affright me not, onely Aeneas frowne Is that which terrifies poore Didos heart: Not bloudie speares appearing in the ayre, Presage the downfall of my Emperie, Nor blazing Commets threatens Didos death, It is Aeneas frowne that ends my daies: If he forsake me not, I neuer dye, For in his lookes I see eternitie, And heele make me immortall with a kisse. Your Nurse is gone with yong Ascauius, And heres Aeneas tackling, oares and sailes. Are these the sailes that in despight of me, Packt with the windes to beare Aeneas hence? Ile hang ye in the chamber where I lye, Driue if you can my house to Italy: Ile set the casement open that the windes May enter in, and once againe conspire Against the life of me poore Carthage Queene: But though he goe, he stayes in Carthage still, And let rich Carthage fleete vpon the seas, So I may haue Aeneas in mine armes. Is this the wood that grew in Carthage plaines, And would be toyling in the watrie billowes, To rob their mistresse of her Troian guest? O cursed tree, hadst thou but wit or sense, To measure how I prize Aeneas loue, Thou wouldst haue leapt from out the Sailers hands, And told me that Aeneas ment to goe: And yet I blame thee not, thou art but wood. The water which our Poets terme a Nimph, Why did it suffer thee to touch her breast, And shrunke not backe, knowing my loue was there? The water is an Element, no Nimph, Why should I blame Aeneas for his flight? O Dido, blame not him, but breake his oares, These were the instruments that launcht him forth, Theres not so much as this base tackling too, But dares to heape vp sorrowe to my heart: Was it not you that hoysed vp these sailes? Why burst you not, and they fell in the seas?