The Love of King David and Fair Bathsheba · chunk 5 of 30
Peele, George · published 1599 · first performed or written 1594 [1593-1594] (Annals) biblical play; history · Queen Elizabeth's Men (?) unassigned nearest T11 Siblings, kin and confidants · 479 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
Ah Ionadab it is my sister's looks, On whose sweet beauty I bestow my blood, That makes me look so amorously lean, Her beauty having seized upon my heart, So merrily consecrate to her content, Sets now such guard about his vital blood, And views the passage with such piercing eyes, That none can scape to cheer my pining cheeks, But all is thought too little for her love. Then from her heart thy looks shall be relieved, And thou shalt joy her as thy soul desires. How can it be my sweet friend Ionadab, Since Thamar is a virgin and my sister? Thus it shall be, lie down upon thy bed, Feigning thee fever sick, and ill at ease, And when the king shall come to visit thee, Desire thy sister Thamar may be sent To dress some dainties for thy malady: Then when thou hast her solely with thyself, Enforce some favour to thy manly love: See where she comes, entreat her in with thee. What aileth Ammon with such sickly looks, To daunt the favour of his lovely face? Sweet Thamar sick, & wish some wholesome cates Dressed with the cunning of thy dainty hands. That hath the King commanded at my hands Then come and rest thee, while I make thee ready Some dainties, easeful to thy crazed soul. I go sweet sister, eased with thy sight. Why should a Prince, whose power may command, Obey the rebel passions of his love, When they contend but 'gainst his conscience, And may be governed or suppressed by will. Now Ammon lose those loving knots of blood, That soaked the courage from thy kingly heart, And give it passage to thy withered cheeks: Now Thamar ripened are the holy fruits That grew on plants of thy virginity, And rotten is thy name in Israel, Poor Thamar, little did thy lovely hands Foretell an action of such violence, As to contend with Ammon's lusty arms, sinewed with vigour of his kindless love, Fair Thamar now dishonour hunts thy foot, And follows thee through every covert shade, Discovering thy shame and nakedness Even from the valleys of Iehosophat, Up to the lofty mounts of Libanon, Where cedars stirred with anger of the winds, Sounding in storms the tale of thy disgrace, Tremble with fury, and with murmur shake earth with their feet, and with their heads the heavens, Beating the clouds into their swiftest rack, To bear this wonder round about the world. Hence from my bed, whose sight offends my soul As doth the parbreak of disgorged bears. Unkind, unprincely, and unmanly Ammon, To force, and then refuse thy sister's love: Adding unto the fright of thy offence, The baneful torment of my published shame, O do not this dishonour to thy love, Nor clog thy soul with such increasing sin, This second evil far exceeds the first.
seed 43: T15 · seed 44: T12 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Ah Ionadab it is my sisters lookes, On whose sweet beutie I bestow my bloud, That makes me looke so amorously leane, Her beautie hauing seafd vpon my heart▪ So merrily consecrate to her content, Sets now such guard about his vitall bloud, And viewes the passage with such piercing eyes, That none can scape to cheare my pining cheekes, But all is thought too little for her loue. Then from her heart thy lookes shall be releeued, And thou shalt ioy her as thy soule desires. How can it be my sweet friend Ionadab, Since Thamar is a virgine and my sister? Thus it shall be, lie downe vpon thy bed, Faining thee feuer sicke, and ill at ease, And when the king shall come to visit thee, Desire thy sister Thamar may be sent To dresse some deinties for thy maladie: Then when thou hast her solely with thy selfe, Enforce some fauour to thy manly loue: See where she comes, intreat her in with thee. What aileth Ammon with such sickly lookes, To daunt the fauour of his louely face? Sweet Thamar sick, & wish some wholesome cates Drest with the cunning of thy daintie hands. That hath the King commanded at my hands Then come and rest thee, while I make thee readie Some dainties, easefull to thy crased soule. I goe sweet sister, eased with thy sight. Why should a Prince, whose power may command, Obey the rebell passions of his loue, When they contend but gainst his conscience, And may be gouernd or supprest by will. Now Ammon lose those louing knots of bloud, That sokte the courage from thy kingly heart, And giue it passage to thy withered cheekes: Now Thamar ripened are the holy fruits That grew on plants of thy virginitie, And rotten is thy name in Israel, Poore Thamar, little did thy louely hands Foretell an action of such violence, As to contend with Ammons lusty armes, Sinnewd with vigor of his landlesse loue, Faire Thamar now dishonour hunts thy foot, And followes thee through euery couert shade, Discouering thy shame and nakednesse Euen from the valeyes of Iehosophat, Vp to the loftie mounts of Libanon, Where Caedars stird with anger of the winds, Sounding in stormes the tale of thy disgrace, Tremble with furie, and with murmure shake Eearth with their feet, and with their heads the heauens, Beating the clouds into their swiftest racke, To beare this wonder round about the world. Hence from my bed, whose sight offends my soule As doth the parbreake of disgorged beares. Vnkind, vnprincely, and vnmanly Ammon▪ To force, and then refuse thy sisters loue: Adding vnto the fright of thy offence, The banefull torment of my publisht shame, O doe not this dishonor to thy loue, Nor clog thy soule with such increasing sinne, This second euill far exceeds the first.