Chapman, George · published 1607 · first performed or written 1607 (Annals) tragedy · Children of Paul's (second) · Paul's T5 Christian faith, sin and salvation typicality 0.77 · 504 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T5: god, christ, david, sin, holy, israel, lord, mercy, sins, faith.
It is a damned work to pursue those secrets, That would ope more sin, and prove springs of slaughter; Nor is't a path for Christian feet to touch; But out of all way to the health of souls, A sin impossible to be forgiven: Which he that dares commit; Good father cease: Tempt not a man distracted; I am apt To outrages that I shall ever rue: I will not pass the verge that bounds a Christian, Nor break the limits of a man nor husband. Then God inspire ye both with thoughts and deeds Worthy his high respect, and your own souls. Who shall remove the mountain from my heart, open the seventimes-heat furnace of my thoughts, And set fit outcries for a soul in hell? O now it nothing fits my cares to speak, But thunder, or to take into my throat The trump of Heaven; with whose determinate blasts The winds shall burst, and the enraged seas Be drunk up in his sounds; that my hot woes (Vented enough) I might convert to vapour, Ascending from my infamy unseen; Shorten the world, preventing the last breath That kills the living, and regenerates death. My Lord, my fault (as you may censure it With too strong arguments) is past your pardon: But how the circumstances may excuse me God knows, and your more temperate mind hereafter May let my penitent miseries make you know. Hereafter? 'tis a supposed infinite, That from this point will rise eternally: Fame grows in going; in the scapes of virtue Excuses damn her: They be fires in Cities Enraged with those winds that less lights extinguish. Come Siren, sing, and dash against my rocks Thy ruffian Galley, laden for thy lust: Sing, and put all the nets into thy voice, With which thou drewest into thy strumpet's lap The spawn of Venus; and in which ye danced; That, in thy laps steed, I may dig his tomb, And quit his manhood with a woman's sleight, Who never is deceived in her deceit. Sing, (that is, write) and then take from mine eyes The mists that hide the most inscrutable Pandar That ever leapt up an adulterous vomit: That I may see the devil, and survive To be a devil, and then learn to wive: That I may hang him, and then cut him down, Then cut him up, and with my soul's beams search The cranks and caverns of his brain, and study The errant wilderness of a woman's face; Where men cannot get out, for all the Comets That have been lighted at it; though they know That Adders lie a sunning in their smiles, That Basilisks drink their poison from their eyes, And no way there to coast out to their hearts; Yet still they wander there, and are not staid Till they be fettered, nor secure before All cares distract them; nor in human state Till they embrace within their wives two breasts All Pelion and Cithaeron with their beasts. Why write you not?
seed 43: T4 · seed 44: T5 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
It is a damn'd worke to pursue those secrets, That would ope more sinne, and prooue springs of slaughter; Nor is't a path for Christian feete to touch; But out of all way to the health of soules, A sinne impossible to be forgiuen: Which he that dares commit; Good father cease: Tempt not a man distracted; I am apt To outrages that I shall euer rue: I will not passe the verge that boundes a Christian, Nor breake the limits of a man nor husband. Then God inspire ye both with thoughts and deedes Worthie his high respect, and your owne soules. Who shall remooue the mountaine from my heart, Ope the seuentimes-heat furnace of my thoughts, And set fit outcries for a soule in hell? O now it nothing fits my cares to speake, But thunder, or to take into my throat The trumpe of Heauen; with whose determinate blasts The windes shall burst, and the enraged seas Be drunke vp in his soundes; that my hot woes (Vented enough) I might conuert to vapour, Ascending from my infamie vnseene; Shorten the world, preuenting the last breath That kils the liuing, and regenerates death. My Lord, my fault (as you may censure it With too strong arguments) is past your pardon: But how the circumstances may excuse mee God knowes, and your more temperate minde heereafter May let my penitent miseries make you know. Heereafter? Tis a suppos'd infinite, That from this point will rise eternally: Fame growes in going; in the scapes of vertue Excuses damne her: They be fires in Cities Enrag'd with those windes that lesse lights extinguish. Come Syren, sing, and dash against my rockes Thy ruffin Gallie, laden for thy lust: Sing, and put all the nets into thy voice, With which thou drew'st into thy strumpets lappe The spawne of Venus; and in which ye danc'd; That, in thy laps steede, I may digge his toombe, And quit his manhoode with a womans sleight, Who neuer is deceiu'd in her deceit. Sing, (that is, write) and then take from mine eies The mists that hide the most inscrutable Pandar That euer lapt vp an adulterous vomit: That I may see the diuell, and suruiue To be a diuell, and then learne to wiue: That I may hang him, and then cut him downe, Then cut him vp, and with my soules beams search The crankes and cauernes of his braine, and studie The errant wildernesse of a womans face; Where men cannot get out, for all the Comets That haue beene lighted at it; though they know That Adders lie a sunning in their smiles, That Basilisks drinke their poison from their eies, And no way there to coast out to their hearts; Yet still they wander there, and are not stai'd Till they be fetter'd, nor secure before All cares distract them; nor in humane state Till they embrace within their wiues two breasts All Pelion and Cythaeron with their beasts. Why write you not?