Heywood, Thomas · published 1608 · first performed or written 1607 [1606-1608] (Annals) tragedy · Queen Anne's Men · Red Bull T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.78 · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
What Lucrece? Stained, polluted and defiled. Strange steps are found in my adulterate bed, And though my thoughts be white as innocence, Yet is my body soiled with lust burnt sin, And by a stranger I am strumpeted, Ravished, enforced, and am no more to rank among the Roman Matrons. Yet cheer you Lady, and restrain these tears, If you were forced, the sin concerns not you, A woman's born but with a woman's strength: who was the Ravisher? ay, name him Lady, our love to you shall only thus appear In the revenge that we will take on him. I hope so Lords, 'twas Sextus the king's Son. How? Sextus Tarquin! That unprincely Prince, who guestwise entered with my husband's Ring, This Ring, oh Collatine! this Ring you sent Is cause of all my woe, your discontent. I feasted him, then lodged him, and bestowed The choicest welcome, but in dead of night, My Traitorous guest came armed unto my bed, Frighted my silent sleep, threatened, and prayed For entertainment: I despised both. Which hearing his sharp pointed Scimitar, The Tyrant bent against my naked breast, Alas, I begged my death, but note his tyranny, He brought with him a torment worse than death For having murdered me, he swore to kill, One of my basest Grooms and lodge him dead In my dead arms: then call in testimony Of my adultery, to make me hated Even in my death, of husband, father, friends, Of Rome and all the world: this, this, oh Princes, Ravished and killed me at once, Yet comfort Lady, I quit thy guilt, for what could Lucrece do more than a woman? hadst thou died polluted, By this base scandal, thou hadst wronged thy fame, And hindered us of a most just revenge. What shall we do Lords? Lay your resolute hands upon the sword of Brutus, Vow & swear, as you hope meed for merit from the Gods Or fear reward for sin, from devils below: As you are Romans, and esteem your fame More than your lives all humorous toys set off, Of madding, singing, smilings, and what else, Receive your native valours, be yourselves, And join with Brutus in the just revenge Of this chaste ravished Lady, swear We do. Then with your humours here my grief ends too, My stain I thus wipe off, call in my sighs, and in the hope of this revenge, forbear Even to my death to fall one passionate tear. Yet Lords, that you may crown my innocence, With our best thoughts, that you may henceforth know, We are the same in heart we seem in show. and though I quit my soul of all such sin, The Lords whisper I'll not debar my body punishment: Let all the world, learn of a Roman dame, To prize her life less than her honoured fame. Lucrece? Wife. Lady. She hath slain herself.
nodes 1697–1758 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 33 of 40 in this edition
Length
485 words · 653 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.781 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
What Lucrece? Staind, polluted and defilde. Strange steps are found in my adulterate bed, And though my thoughts be white as innocence, Yet is my body soild with lust burnd sinne, And by a stranger I am strumpited, Rauisht, inforc'd, and am no more to ranke among the Roman Matrons. Yet cheere you Lady, and restraine these teares, If you were forc'd, the sinne concernes not you, A woman's born but with a womans strength: who was the Rauisher? I, name him Lady, our loue to you shal only thus appeare In the reuenge that we will take on him. I hope so Lords, t'was Sextus the Kings Sonne. How? Sextus Tarquin! That vnprincely Prince, who guest-wise entred with my husbands Ring, This Ring, oh Collatine! this Ring you sent Is cause of all my woe, your discontent. I feasted him, then lodgd him, and bestowde The choisest welcome, but in dead of night, My Traiterous guest came arm'd vnto my bed, Frighted my silent sleepe, threatend, and praide For entertainment: despised both. Which hearing his sharpe pointed Semitar, The Tyrant bent against my naked brest, Alas, I begd my death, but note his tyranny, He brought with him a torment worse then death For hauing murdred me, he swore to kill, One of my basest Groomes and lodge him dead In my dead armes: then call in testimony Of my adulterie, to make me hated Euen in my death, of husband, father, friendes, Of Rome and all the world: this, this, oh Princes, Rauisht and kild me at once, Yet cōfort Lady, I quit thy guilt, for what could Lucrece doe more then a woman? hadst thou dide polluted, By this base scandall, thou hadst wrong'd thy fame, And hinderd vs of a moste iust reuenge. What shall we doe Lords? Lay your resolute handes vpon the sword of Brutus, Vow & sweare, as you hope meed for merrit from the Gods Or feare reward for sinne, from deuils below: As you are Romans, and esteeme your fame More then your liues all humrous toyes set off, Of madding, singing, smilings, and what else, Receiue your natiue vallours, be your selues, And ioyne with Brutus in the iust reuenge Of this chaste rauisht Lady, sweare We doe. Then with your humors heere my griefe ends too, My staine I thus wipe off, call in my sighes, and in the hope of this reuenge, forbeare Euen to my death to fall one passionate teare. Yet Lords, that you may crowne my innocence, With our best thoughts, that you may henceforth know, We are the same in heart we seeme in show. and though I quit my soule of all such sin, The Lords whisper Ile not debarre my body punishment: Let all the world, learne of a Roman dame, To prise her life lesse then her honord fame. Lucrece? Wife. Lady. She hath slaine herselfe.