Marlowe, Christopher · published 1596 · first performed or written 1593 [Jan 26; Jan 30] (Annals) tragedy · Derby's (Strange's) Men unassigned nearest T15 Friars and holy orders in plot · 506 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T15: friar, lord, holy, friars, robin, peggy, lacie, angelo, love, nun.
As monasteries, Priories, Abbeys and halls, Wherein are thirty thousand able men, Besides a thousand sturdy student Catholics, And more of my knowledge in one cloister keeps, Five hundred fat Franciscan Friars and priests. All this and more, if more may be comprised, To bring the will of our desires to end. Then Guise since thou hast all the Cards, Within thy hands to shuffle or cut, take this as surest thing: That right or wrong, thou deal thyself a King. I but, Navarre, Navarre, 'tis but a nook of France, Sufficient yet for such a petty King: That with a rabblement of his heretics, Blinds Europe's eyes and troubleth our estate: Him will we But first let's follow those in France, That hinder our possession to the crown: As Caesar to his soldiers, so say I: Those that hate me, will I learn to loathe. Give me a look, that when I bend the brows, Pale death may walk in furrows of my face: A hand, that with a grasp may gripe the world, An ear, to hear what my detractors say, A royal seat, a sceptre and a crown: That those which do behold, they may become As men that stand and gaze against the Sun. The plot is laid, and things shall come to pass: Where resolution strives for victory. madam, I beseech your grace to except this simple gift. Thanks my good friend, hold take thou this reward. I humbly thank your Majesty. methinks the gloves have a very strong perfume, The scent whereof doth make my head to ache. Doth not your grace know the man that gave them you? Not well, but do remember such a man. Your grace was ill advised to take them then, Considering of these dangerous times. Help son Navarre I am poisoned. The heavens forbid your highness such mishap. The late suspicion of the Duke of Guise, Might well have moved your highness to beware: How you did meddle with such dangerous gifts. Too late it is my Lord if that be true To blame her highness, but I hope it be Only some natural passion makes her sick. O no, sweet Marg'ret, the fatal poison Works within my head, my brain pan breaks, My heart doth faint, I die. My Mother poisoned here before my face: O gracious God, what times are these? O grant sweet God my days may end with hers, That I with her may die and live again. Let not this heavy chance my dearest Lord, For whose effects my soul is massacred) infect thy gracious breast with fresh supply, o agrauate our sodaine miserie. Come my Lords let us bear her body hence, and see it honoured with just solemnity. What are you hurt my L. high Admiral? I my good Lord shot through the arm. We are betrayed come my Lords, and let us go tell the King of this. These are the cursed Guisians that do seek our death. Oh fatal was this marriage to us all.
seed 43: T8 · seed 44: T8 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
As Monestaries, Priories, Abbyes and halles, Wherein are thirtie thousand able men, Besides a thousand sturdy student Catholicks, And more of my knowledge in one cloyster keeps, Fiue hundred fatte Franciscan Fryers and priestes. All this and more, if more may be comprisde, To bring the will of our desires to end. Then Guise since thou hast all the Cardes, Within thy hands to shuffle or cut, take this as surest thing: That right or wrong, thou deale thy selfe a King. I but, Nauarre, Nauarre, tis but a nook of France, Sufficient yet for such a pettie King: That with a rablement of his hereticks, Blindes Europs eyes and troubleth our estate: Him will we But first lets follow those in France, That hinder our possession to the crowne: As Caesar to his souldiers, so say I: Those that hate me, will I learn to loath. Giue me a look, that when I bend the browes, Pale death may walke in furrowes of my face: A hand, that with a graspe may gripe the world, An eare, to heare what my detractors say, A royall seate, a scepter and a crowne: That those which doe beholde, they may become As men that stand and gase against the Sunne. The plot is laide, and things shall come to passe: Where resolution striues for victory. Maddame, I beseech your grace to except this simple gift. Thanks my good freend, holde take thou this reward. I humbly thank your Maiestie. Me thinkes the gloues haue a very strong perfume, The sent whereof doth make my head to ake. Doth not your grace know the man that gaue them you? Not wel, but do remember such a man. Your grace was ill aduisde to take thē then, Considering of these dangerous times. Help sonne Nauarre I am poysoned. The heauens forbid your highnes such mishap. The late suspition of the Duke of Guise, Might well haue moued your highnes to beware: How you did meddle with such dangerous giftes. Too late it is my Lord if that be true To blame her highnes, but I hope it be Only some naturall passion makes her sicke. O no, sweet Margret, the fatall poyson Workes within my head, my brain pan breakes, My heart doth faint, I dye. My Mother poysoned heere before my face: O gracious God, what times are these? O graunt sweet God my daies may end with hers, That I with her may dye and liue againe. Let not this heauy chaunce my dearest Lord, Forwhose effects my soule is massacred) nfect thy gracious brest with fresh supply, o agrauate our sodaine miserie. Come my Lords let vs beare her body hence, nd see it honoured with iust solemnitie. VVhat are you hurt my L. high Admiral? I my good Lord shot through the arme. VVe are betraide come my Lords, and let vs goe tell the King of this. These are the cursed Guisians that doe seeke our death. Oh fatall was this mariage to vs all.