Yarington, Robert · published 1601 · first performed or written 1594 [1594-c.1598] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown T42 English historical figures: a mixed clus typicality 0.76 · 487 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T42: harry, percy, lord, king, god, falstalffe, frances, mowbray, life, mortimer.
My former life, deserves their good conceits, Were it not blemished with this treachery. My heart is merrier than it was before, For now I hope the greatest fear is past, The hammer is denied, the bag unknown, Now there is left no means to bring it out, Unless ourselves prove Traitors to ourselves. When saw you Harry Williams? Why today I met him coming home from Paul's Cross, Where he had been to hear a Sermon. Why brought you not the man along with you To come to dinner, that we might persuade Him to continue in his secrecy. I did entreat him, but he would not come, But vowed to be as secret as myself. What, did he swear? What need you ask me that? You know we never heard him swear an oath. But since he hath concealed the thing thus long, I hope in God he will conceal it still. Pray God he do, and then I have no doubt, But God will overpass this grievous sin, If you lament with true unfeigned tears, And seek to live the remnant of your years, In God's true fear with upright conscience. If it would please him pardon this amiss, And rid my body from the open shame, That doth attend this deed, being brought to light, I would endeavour all my coming days, To please my maker, and exult his praise: But it grows late, come bring me to my bed, That I may rest my sorrow charged head. Rest still in calm secure tranquillity, And overblow this storm of mighty fear, With pleasant gal of hoped nsse, Go when you will, I will attend, and pray, To send this woeful night a cheerful day. Pass o'er these rugged furrows of laments, And come to plainer paths of cheerfulness, Cease thy continual showers of thy woe, And let my pleasing words of comfort chase, This dusky clouds of thy unjust despair, Far from thy heart, and let a pleasing hope, Of young Pertillo's happy safe return, Establish all your ill divining thoughts, So shall you make me cheerful that am sad, And feed your hopes with fond illusions. I could be so, but my divided soul, Twixt fear and hope of young Pertillo's life, Cannot arrive at the desired port, Of firm belief, until mine eyes do see, Him that I sent to know the certainty. To know the certainty, of whom, of what, Whom, whether when, or whereabout I pray, Have you dispatched a frustrate messenger, By heaven, and earth, my heart misguideth me, They will prevent my cunning policy. Why speak you not what winged Pegasus, Is posted for your satisfaction. methinks my speech reveals a hidden fear, And that fear tells me, that the child is dead. By sweet S. Andrew and my father's soul, I think the peevish boy be too too well: But speak, who was your passion's harbinger.
seed 43: T43 · seed 44: T43 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
My former life, deserues their good conceits, Were it not blemisht with this treacherie. My heart is merier then it was before, For now I hope the greatest feare is past, The hammer is denyed, the bag vnknowne, Now there is left no meanes to bring it out, Vnlesse our selues prooue Traitors to our selues. When saw you Harry Wiliams? Why to day I met him comming home from owles Crosse, Where he had beene to heare a Sermon. Why brought you not the man along with you To come to dinner, that we might perswade Him to continue in his secrecie. I did intreate him, but he would not come, But vow'd to be as secret as my selfe. What, did he sweare? What neede you aske me that? You know we neuer heard him sweare an othe. But since he hath conceal'd the thing thus long, I hope in God he will conceale it still. Pray God he do, and then I haue no doubt, But God will ouerpasse this greeuous sinne, If you lament with true vnfained teares, And seeke to liue the remnant of your yeares, In Gods true feare with vpright conscience. If it would please him pardon this amisse, And rid my body from the open shame, That doth attend this deed, being brought to light, I would endeuour all my comming dayes, To please my maker, and exl his praise: But it grows late, bring to my bed, That I may rest my sorrow charged head. Rest still in calme secure tranquillitie, And ouer-blowe this storme of mightie feare, With pleasant gal of hoped nsse, Go when you will, I will ttend, and pray, To send this wofull night a cheerfull day. Passe these rugged urrowes of laments, And come to plainer pathes of cheerefulnesse, Cease thy continuall showers of thy woe, And let my pleasing wordes of comfort chase, This duskie cloudes of thy vniust dispaire, Farre from thy hart, and let a pleasing hope, Of young Pertillos happy safe returne, Establish all your ill deuining thoughts, So shall you make me cheerefull that am sad, And feede your hopes with fond illusions. I could be so, but my diuided soule, Twixt feare and hope of young Pertillos life, Cannot ariue at the desired port, Of irme beleefe, vntill mine eyes do see, Him that I sent to know the certainetie. To know the certaintie, of whom, of what, Whome, whether when, or whereabout I praie, Haue you dispatcht a frustrate messenger, By heauen, and earth, my heart misguiseth me, They will preuent my cunning pollicie. Why speake you not what winged Pegaus, Is posted for your satisfaction. Me thinkes my speach reueales a hidden feare, And that feare telles me, that the childe is dead. By sweete S. Andrew and my fathers soule, I thinke the peeuish boy be too too well: But speake, who was your passions harbinger.