The Tragedy of Charles Duke of Byron · chunk 15 of 37
Chapman, George · published 1608 · first performed or written 1608 [1607-1608] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Queen's Revels unassigned nearest T25 Kings, power and law: political sententi · 530 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
O the most base fruits of a settled peace! In men, I mean; worse than their dirty fields, Which they manure much better themselves: For them they plant, and sow, and ere they grow, Weedy, and choked with thorns, they grub and prune, And make them better, than when cruel war, Frighted from thence the sweaty labourer: But men themselves, instead of bearing fruits, Grow rude, and foggy, overgrown with weeds, Their spirits, and freedoms smothered in their ease; And as their tyrants and their ministers, Grow wild in prosecution of their lusts, So they grow prostitute, and lie (like whores) Down and take up, to their abhorred dishonours: The friendless may be injured and oppressed; The guiltless led to slaughter, the deserver Given to the beggar; right be wholly wronged, And wrong be only honoured; till the strings Of every man's heart, crack; and who will stir, To tell authority, that it doth err. All men cling to it, though they see their bloods In their most dear associates and Allies, Poured into kennels by it: and who dares But look well in the breast, whom that impairs? How all the Court now looks askew on me? Go by without saluting, shun my sight, Which (like a march sun) agues breeds in them, From whence of late, 'twas health to have a beam. Now none will speak to us, we thrust ourselves Into men's companies, and offer speech, As if not made, for their diverted ears, Their backs turned to us, and their words to others, And we must like obsequious Parasites, Follow their faces, wind about their persons, For looks and answers: or be cast behind, No more viewed than the wallet of their faults. Yet here's one views me, and I think will speak. My Lord, if you respect your name and race, The preservation of your former honours, Merits and virtues; humbly cast them all, At the king's mercy; for beyond all doubt, Your acts have thither driven them: he hath proofs So pregnant, and so horrid, that to hear them, Would make your valour in your very looks, Give up your forces, miserably guilty: But he is most loath (for his ancient love To your rare virtues:) and in their impair, The full discouragement of all that live, To trust or favour any gifts in Nature) T'expose them to the light; when darkness may Cover her own brood, and keep still in day, Nothing of you but that may brook her brightness: You know what horrors these high strokes do bring, Raised in the arm of an incensed King. My Lord, be sure the King cannot complain Of any thing in me, but my true service, Which in so many dangers of my death, May so approve my spotless loyalty; That those quite opposite horrors you assure, Must look out of his own ingratitude; Or the malignant envies of my foes, Who power me out in such a Stygian flood, To drown me in myself, since their deserts Are far from such a deluge; and in me Hid like so many rivers in the Sea. You think I come to found you; fare you well,
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
O the most base fruites of a setled peace! In men, I meane; worse then their durty fields, Which they manure much better them-selues: For them they plant, and sowe, and ere they grow, Weedie, and choakt with thornes, they grub and proyne, And make them better, then when cruell warre, Frighted from thence the sweaty labourer: But men them-selues, in steed of bearing fruites, Growe rude, and foggie, ouer-growne with weedes, Their spirits, and freedomes smootherd in their ease; And as their tyrants and their ministers, Growe wilde in prosecution of their lusts, So they grow prostitute, and lye (like whores) Downe and take vp, to their abhord dishonors: The friendlesse may be iniur'd and opprest; The guiltlesse lead to slaughter, the deseruer Giuen to the begger; right be wholy wrongd, And wrong be onely honor'd; till the strings Of euery mans heart, crack; and who will stirre, To tell authority, that it doth erre. All men cling to it, though they see their blouds In their most deare associates and Allyes, Pour'd into kennels by it: and who dares But looke well in the breast, whom that impayres? How all the Court now lookes askew on me? Go by without saluting, shun my sight, Which (like a march sunne) agues breeds in them, From whence of late, 'twas health to haue a beame. Now none will speake to vs, we thrust our selues Into mens companies, and offer speech, As if not made, for their diuerted eares▪ Their backs turnd to vs, and their words to others, And we must like obsequious Parasites, Follow their faces, winde about their persons, For lookes and answers: or be cast behinde, No more viewd then the wallet of their faults. Yet here's one views me, and I thinke will speake▪ My Lord, if you respect your name and race, The preseruation of your former honors, Merites and vertues; humbly cast them all, At the kings mercy; for beyond all doubt, Your acts haue thether driuen them: he hath proofes So pregnant, and so horride, that to heare them, Would make your valure in your very lookes, Giue vp your forces, miserably guilty: But he is most loth (for his ancient loue To your rare vertues:) and in their empaire, The full discouragement of all that liue, To trust or fauour any gifts in Nature) T'expose them to the light; when darknesse may Couer her owne broode, and keepe still in day, Nothing of you but that may brooke her brightnesse: You know what horrors these high strokes do bring, Raisd in the arme of an incensed King. My Lord, be sure the King cannot complaine Of any thing in me, but my true seruice, Which in so many dangers of my death, May so approoue my spotlesse loyaltie; That those quite opposite horrors you assure, Must looke out of his owne ingratitude; Or the malignant enuies of my foes, Who powre me out in such a Stygan flood, To drowne me in my selfe, since their desert Are farre from such a deluge; and in me Hid like so many riuers in the Sea. You thinke I come to ound you; fare you wel,