Marlowe, Christopher · published 1594 · first performed or written 1592 [1591-1593] (Annals) history · Pembroke's Men unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
And witness heaven how dear thou art to me. There weep, for till my Gaveston be repealed, Assure thyself thou comest not in my sight. O miserable and distressed Queen! Would when I left sweet France and was embarked, That charming Circe's walking on the waves, Had changed my shape, or at the marriage day The cup of Hymen had been full of poison, Or with those arms that twinned about my neck, I had been stifled, and not lived to see, The king my lord thus to abandon me: Like frantic Iuno will I fill the earth, With ghastly murmur of my sighs and cries, For never doted Ioue on Ganymede, So much as he on cursed Gaveston, But that will more exasperate his wrath, I must entreat him, I must speak him fair, And be a means to call home Gaveston: And yet he'll ever dote on Gaveston, And so am I for ever miserable. Look where the sister of the king of France, Sits wringing of her hands, and beats her breast. The king I fear hath ill entreated her. Hard is the heart, that injures such a saint. I know 'tis long of Gaveston she weeps. Why? he is gone. Madam, how fares your grace? Ah Mortimer! now breaks the kings hate forth, And he confesseth that he loves me not. Cry quittance Madam then, & love not him. No, rather will I die a thousand deaths, And yet I love in vain, he'll near love me. Fear ye not Madam, now his minions gone, His wanton humour will be quickly left. O never Lancaster! I am enjoined, To sue unto you all for his repeal: This wils my lord, and this must I perform, Or else be banished from his highness presence. For his repeal, Madam, he comes not back, Unless the sea cast up his shipwreck body. And to behold so sweet a sight as that, There's none here, but would run his horse to death. But madam, would you have us call him home? I Mortimer, for till he be restored, The angry king hath banished me the court: And therefore as thou lovest and tenderest me, Be thou my advocate unto these peers. What, would ye have me plead for Gaveston? Plead for him he that will, I am resolved. And so am I my lord, dissuade the Queen. O Lancaster, let him dissuade the king, For 'tis against my will he should return. Then speak not for him, let the peasant go. 'tis for myself I speak, and not for him. No speaking will prevail, and therefore cease. Fair Queen forbear to angle for the fish, Which being caught, strikes him that takes it dead, I mean that vile Torpedo, Gaveston, That now I hope floats on the Irish seas. Sweet Mortimer, sit down by me a while, And I will tell thee reasons of such weight, As thou wilt soon subscribe to his repeal. It is impossible, but speak your mind.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T6 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
And witnesse heauen how deere thou art to me. There weepe, for till my Gaueston be repeald, Assure thy selfe thou comst not in my sight. O miserable and distressed Queene! Would when I left sweet France and was imbarkt, That charming Circes walking on the waues, Had chaungd my shape, or at the mariage day The cup of Hymen had beene full of poyson, Or with those armes that twind about my neck, I had beene stifled, and not liued to see, The king my lord thus to abandon me: Like frantick Iuno will I fill the earth, With gastlie murmure of my sighes and cries, For neuer doted Ioue on Ganimed, So much as he on cursed Gaueston, But that will more exasperate his wrath, I must entreat him, I must speake him faire, And be a meanes to call home Gaueston: And yet heele euer dote on Gaueston, And so am I for euer miserable. Looke where the sister of the king of Fraunce, Sits wringing of her hands, and beats her brest. The king I feare hath ill intreated her. Hard is the hart, that iniures such a saint. I know tis long of Gaueston she weepes. Why? he is gone. Madam, how fares your grace? Ah Mortimer! now breaks the kings hate forth, And he confesseth that he loues me not. Crie quittance Madam then, & loue not him. No, rather will I die a thousand deaths, And yet I loue in vaine, heele nere loue me. Feare ye not Madam, now his minions gone, His wanton humor will be quicklie left. O neuer Lancaster! I am inioynde, To sue vnto you all for his repeale: This wils my lord, and this must I performe, Or else be banisht from his highnesse presence. For his repeale, Madam, he comes not back, Vnlesse the sea cast vp his shipwrack body. And to behold so sweete a sight as that, Theres none here, but would run his horse to death. But madam, would you haue vs cal him home? I Mortimer, for till he be restorde, The angrie king hath banished me the court: And therefore as thou louest and tendrest me, Be thou my aduocate vnto these peeres. What, would ye haue me plead for Gaueston? Plead for him he that will, I am resolude. And so am I my lord, diswade the Queene. O Lancaster, let him diswade the king, For tis against my will he should returne. Then speake not for him, let the pesant go. Tis for my selfe I speake, and not for him. No speaking will preuaile, and therefore cease. Faire Queene forbeare to angle for the fish, Which being caught, strikes him that takes it dead, I meane that vile Torpedo, Gaueston, That now I hope flotes on the Irish seas. Sweete Mortimer, sit downe by me a while, And I will tell thee reasons of such waighte, As thou wilt soone subscribe to his repeale. It is impossible, but speake your minde.