The Wonder of Women, or Sophonisba · chunk 16 of 26
Marston, John · published 1606 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Queen's Revels · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T5 Christian faith, sin and salvation · 503 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T5: god, christ, david, sin, holy, israel, lord, mercy, sins, faith.
Let not the virtue of the world suspect Sad Massinissa's faith: nor once condemn Our just revolt: Carthage first gave me life, Her ground gave food, her air first lent me breathe The Earth was made for men, not men for Earth. Scipio I do not thank the Gods for life, Much less vile men, or earth: know best of Lords, It is a happy being breath well famed, For which Ioue sees these thus; Men be not fold With piety to place: traditions fear, A just man's country Ioue makes everywhere. Well urgeth Massinissa, but to leave A City so ingrate, so faithless, so more vile Than civil speech may name, fear not, such vice To scourge is heavens most grateful sacrifice. Thus all confess first they have broke a faith To the most due, so just to be observed That barbarousness itself may well blush at them Where is thy passion? they have shared thy crown Thy proper right of birth; contrived thy death. Where is thy passion? given thy beauteous spouse. To thy most hated rival: statue, not man, And last thy friend Gelosso (man worth Gods) With tortures have they rent to death. O Gel. For thee full eyes No passion for the rest. O Scipio my grief for him may be expressed by tears But for the rest silence & secret anguish Shall waste: shall waste:— Scipio he that can weep, Grieves not like me private deep inward drops Of blood: my heart— for God's rights give me leave To be a short time Man. stay prince. I cease; Forgive if I forget thy presence: Scipio Thy face makes Massinissa more than man, And here before your steady power a vow As firm as fate I make: when I desist To be commanded by thy virtue, (Scipio) Or fall from friend of Rome's, revenging Gods Afflict me worth your torture: I have given Of passion and of faith my heart. To counsel then Grief fits weak hearts, revenging virtue men. Thus I think fit, before that Syphax know How deeply Carthage sinks, let's beat swift march Up even to Cirta, and whilst Syphax snores With his, late thine— With mine? no Scipio, Libya hath poison, asps, knives, & to much earth To make one grave, with mine? not, she can die, Scipio, with mine? Ioue say it thou dost lie. Temperance be Scipio's honour. Cease your strife She is a woman. But she is my wife. And yet she is no god. And yet she's more I do not praise God's goodness but adore. God's cannot fall, and for their constant goodness (Which is necessited) they have a crown Of never ending pleasures: but faint man (Framed to have his weakness made the heavens glory If he with steady virtue holds all siege That power, that speech, that pleasure, that full sweets A world of greatness can assail him with, Having no pay but self wept misery, And beggar's treasure heaped, that man I'll praise Above the Gods.
seed 43: T1 · seed 44: T2 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Let not the virtue of the world suspect Sad Massinissas faith: nor once cōdemne Our just reuolt: Carthage first gaue me life, Hir ground gaue food, hir aire first lent me breath The Earth was made for men, not men for Earth. Scipio I do not thanke the Gods for life, Much lesse vile men, or earth: know best of Lords, It is a happy being breath well fam'd, For which Ioue sees these thus; Men be not foold With piety to place: traditions feare, A iust mans contry Ioue makes euery where. Well vrgeth Massinissa, but to leaue A Citie so ingrate, so faithlesse, so more vile Then ciuill speach may name, fear not, such vice To scourge is heauens most gratefull sacrifice. Thus all confesse first they haue broke a faith To the most due, so just to be obseru'd That barborousnes it selfe may well blush at them Where is thy passiō? they haue shar'd thy crowne Thy proper right of birth; contriu'd thy death. Where is thy passion? giuen thy beauteous spouse. To thy most hated riuall: statue, not man, And last thy freind Gelosso (man worth Gods) With tortures haue they rēt to death. O Gel. For thee full eyes No passion for the rest. O Scipio my greefe for him may be expressd by teares But for the rest silence & secret anguish Shall wast: shall wast:—Scipio he that can weepe, Greeues not like me priuate deepe inward drops Of bloud: my heart—for Gods rights giue me leaue To be a short time Man. stay prince. I cease; Forgiue if I forget thy presence: Scipio Thy face makes Massinissa more then man, And here before your steddy power a vow As firme as fate I make: when I desist To be commaunded by thy virtue, (Scipio) Or fall from frend of Romes, reuenging Gods Aflict me worth your torture: I haue giuen Of passion and of faith my heart. To counsel then Greefe fits weake hearts, reuenging virtue men. Thus I thinke fit, before that Syphax know How deepely Carthage sinkes, lets beat swift march Vp euen to Cirta, and whilst Syphax snores With his, late thine— With mine? no Scipio, Libea hath poyson, aspes, kniues, & to much earth To make one graue, with mine? not, she can dye, Scipio, with mine? Ioue say it thou dost lie. Temperance be Scipios honor. Cease your strife She is a woman. But she is my wife. And yet she is no god. And yet she's more I do not prayse Gods goodnes but adore. Gods cannot fall, and for their constant goodnesse (Which is necessited) they haue a crowne Of neuer ending pleasures: but faint man (Framd to haue his weaknes made the heauens glory If he with steddy vertue holdes all seidge That power, that speach, that pleasure, that full sweets A world of greatnes can assaile him with, Hauing no pay but selfe wept miserie, And beggars treasure heapt, that man Ile prayse Aboue the Gods.