Chapman, George · published 1607 · first performed or written 1607 (Annals) tragedy · Children of Paul's (second) · Paul's T15 Friars and holy orders in plot typicality 0.85 · 451 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T15: friar, lord, holy, friars, robin, peggy, lacie, angelo, love, nun.
What dismal change is here? the good old Friar Is murdered; being made known to serve my love; Note what he wants? he wants his utmost weed, He wants his life, and body: which of these Should be the want he means, and may supply me With any fit forewarning? this strange vision, (Together with the dark prediction Used by the Prince of darkness that was raised By this embodied shadow) stir my thoughts With reminiscion of the Spirits promise; Who told me, that by any invocation I should have power to raise him; though it wanted The powerful words, and decent rites of art; Never had my set brain such need of spirit, T'instruct and cheer it; now then, I will claim, Performance of his free and gentle vow, T'appear in greater light; and make more plain, His rugged oracle: I long to know How my dear mistress fares; and be informed What hand she now holds on the troubled blood Of her incensed Lord: methought the Spirit, (When he had uttered his perplexed presage) Threw his changed countenance headlong into clouds; His forehead bent, as it would hide his face; He knocked his chin against his darkened breast, And struck a churlish silence through his powers; Terror of darkness: O thou King of flames, That with thy music-footed horse dost strike The clear light out of crystal, on dark earth; And hurlest instructive fire about the world: Wake, wake, the drowsy and enchanted night; That sleeps with dead eyes in this heavy riddle: Or thou great Prince of shades where never sun Sticks his far-darted beams: whose eyes are made, To see in darkness: and see ever best Where sense is blindest: open now the heart Of thy abashed oracle: that for fear, Of some ill it includes, would fain lie hid, And rise thou with it in thy greater light. Thus to observe my vow of apparition, In greater light: and explicate thy fate: I come; and tell thee that if thou obey The summons that thy mistress next will send thee, Her hand shallbe thy death. When will she send? Soon as I set again, where late I rose. Is the old Friar slain? No, and yet lives not. Died he a natural death? He did. Who then, Will my dear mistress send? I must not tell thee. Who lets thee? Fate. Who are fates ministers? The Guise and Monsieur. A fit pair of shears To cut the threads of kings, and kingly spirits, And consorts fit to sound forth harmony, Set to the falls of kingdoms: shall the hand Of my kind Mistress kill me? If thou yield, To her next summons, you're fair warned: farewell.
seed 43: T19 · seed 44: T20 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
What dismall change is heere? the good old Frier Is murtherd; being made knowne to serue my loue; Note what he wants? he wants his vtmost weed, He wants his life, and body: which of these Should be the want he meanes, and may supplie me With any fit forewarning? this strange vision, (Together with the darke prediction Vs'd by the Prince of darknesse that was raisd By this embodied shadowe) stir my thoughts With reminiscion of the Spirits promise; Who told me, that by any inuocation I should haue power to raise him; though it wanted The powerfull words, and decent rites of art; Neuer had my set braine such need of spirit, T'instruct and cheere it; now then, I will claime, Performance of his free and gentle vow, T'appeare in greater light; and make more plain, His rugged oracle: I long to know How my deare mistresse fares; and be informd What hand she now holds on the troubled bloud Of her incensed Lord: me thought the Spirit, (When he had vtterd his perplext presage) Threw his chang'd countenance headlong into clowdes; His forehead bent, as it would hide his face; He knockt his chin against his darkned breast, And strooke a churlish silence through his powrs; Terror of darknesse: O thou King of flames, That with thy Musique-footed horse dost strike The cleere light out of chrystall, on darke earth; And hurlst instructiue fire about the world: Wake, wake, the drowsie and enchanted night; That sleepes with dead eies in this heauy riddle: Or thou great Prince of shades where neuer sunne Stickes his far-darted beames: whose eies are made, To see in darknesse: and see euer best Where sense is blindest: open now the heart Of thy abashed oracle: that for feare, Of some ill it includes, would faine lie hid, And rise thou with it in thy greater light. Thus to obserue my vow of apparition, In greater light: and explicate thy fate: I come; and tell thee that if thou obay The summons that thy mistresse next wil send thee, Her hand shalbe thy death. When will she send? Soone as I set againe, where late I rose. Is the old Frier slaine? No, and yet liues not. Died he a naturall death? He did. Who then, Will my deare mistresse send? I must not tell thee. Who lets thee? Fate. Who are fates ministers? The Guise and Monsieur. A fit paire of sheeres To cut the threds of kings, and kingly spirits, And consorts fit to sound forth harmony, Set to the fals of kingdomes: shall the hand Of my kinde Mistresse kill me? If thou yeeld, To her next summons, y'are faire warnd: farewell.