Yarington, Robert · published 1601 · first performed or written 1594 [1594-c.1598] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T51 Parents and children: blessing, birthrig · 500 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T51: esau, iacob, father, son, isaac, god, love, birthright, parents, thing.
Now by my soul I do suspect the men, Especially the lower of the two: See what a hollow discontented look He casts, which brings apparent cause of fear, The other, though he seem more courteous, Yet doth his looks presage this thought in me, As if he scorned to think on courtesy. Upon my life, my son you are to blame, The gentlemen are honest, virtuous, And will protect Pertillo happily: These thoughts proceed out of abundant love, Because you grieve to leave his company: If ought betide him otherwise than well, Let God require due vengeance on my head, And cut my hopes from all prosperity. A heavy sentence, full of wondrous fear, I cannot choose but credit such a vow, Come hither then, my joy, my chiefest hopes. My second self, my earthly happiness, Lend me thy little pretty cherry lip, To kiss me cozen, lay thy little hand Upon my cheek, and hug me tenderly, Would the clear rays of thy two glorious suns, Could penetrate the corners of my heart, That thou might see, how much I tender thee. My friends behold within this little bulk, Two perfect bodies are incorporate, His life holds mine, his heart contains my heart, His every limb, contains my every part: Without his being, I can never be, He being dead, prepare to bury me. Oh thou immortal mover of the spheres, Within their circled revolutions, Whose glorious image this small orphan bears, Wrought by thy all sufficient Majesty, Oh never suffer any wicked hand, To harm this heavenly workmanship of thine, But let him live, great God to honour thee, With virtuous life, and spotless piety. Cease my kind coz, I cannot choose but weep, To see your care of my security. Knewst thou my reason, that persuades my heart, Thou wouldst not wonder, why I grieve to part: But yet I would suspect my father's vow, Did any other make it by your leave. What have you done, this loathness to depart, Seems you were trained up in tediousness, That know not when and where to make an end: Take him my friends, I know you will discharge, The hope and trust that I repose in you. Assure yourself, in every circumstance. Then to your horses, quickly, speedily, Else we shall put our fingers in the eye, And weep for kindness till tomorrow morn. Farewell good Uncle, Aunt, and loving coz. Farewell, I fear me everlastingly. You mean not now to have him murdered? Not murdered, what else? kill him I say, But wherefore makest thou question of my will? Because you wished that God should be revenged If any ill betide the innocent. Oh that was nothing but to blind the eyes, Of my fond son, which loves him too too well. It is enough, it shall be surely done. What hast thou sped? have you bought the bag? I brother, here it is, what is't to do? To beat hence Beech's body in the night.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T36 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Now by my soule I do suspect the men, Especially the lower of the two: See what a hollow discontented looke He casts, which brings apparant cause of feare, The other, though he seeme more courteous, Yet dooth his lookes presadge this thought in me, As if he scorn'd to thinke on courtesie. Vpon my life, my sonne you are to blame, The gentlemen are honest, vertuous, And will protect Pertillo happily: These thoughts proceed out of aboundant loue, Because you grieue to leaue his company: If ought betide him otherwise then well, Let God require due vengaunce on my head, And cut my hopes from all prosperitie. A heauie sentence, full of wondrous feare, I cannot choose but credit such a vowe, Come hether then, my ioy, my chiefest hopes. My second selfe, my earthly happinesse, Lend me thy little prety cherry lip, To kisse me cozen, lay thy little hand Vpon my cheeke, and hug me tenderly, Would the cleere rayes of thy two glorious sunnes, Could penetrate the corners of my heart, That thou might see, how much I tender thee. My friends beholde within this little bulke, Two perfect bodyes are incorporate, His life holdes mine, his heart conteines my hart, His euery lim, containes my euery part: Without his being, I can neuer be, He being dead, prepare to burie me. Oh thou immortall mouer of the spheares, Within their circled reuolusions, Whose glorious image this small orphant beares, Wrought by thy all sufficient Maiestie, Oh neuer suffer any wicked hand, To harme this heauenly workmanship of thine, But let him liue, great God to honour thee, With vertuous life, and spotlesse pietie. Cease my kinde cooze, I cannot choose but weepe, To see your care of my securitie. Knewst thou my reason, that perswades my hart, Thou wouldst not wonder, why I grieue to part: But yet I would suspect my fathers vowe, Did any other make it by your leaue. What haue you done, this lothnesse to depart, Seemes you were trained vp in tediousnesse, That know not when and where to make an end: Take him my friends, I know you will discharge, The hope and trust that I repose in you. Assure your selfe, in euery circumstance. Then to your horses, quicklie, speedily, Else we shall put our fingers in the eye, And weepe for kindnesse till to morrow morne. Farewell good Vnckle, Aunt, and louing cooze. Farewell, I feare me euerlastinglie. You meane not now to haue him murthered? Not murthered, what else? kill him I say, But wherefore makest thou question of my will? Because you wisht that God should be reueng'd If any ill bede the innocent. Oh that was nothing but to blind the eyes, Of my fond sonne, which loues him too too well. It is enough, it shall be surely done. What hast thou sped? haue you bought the bag? I brother, here it is, what is't to do? To beate hence Beeches body in the night.