Greville, Fulke · published 1633 · first performed or written 1596 [c.1594-c.1596] (Annals) tragedy T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.81 · 506 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
But ah! Woe worth each false preposterous way, Which promiseth good lucke to euill deeds: Since Mustapha, whose death I made my Glorie, Hath left me no power now, but to be sorie. For Zanger, when he saw his Brother dead, Confusedly with diuerse shapes distract, Hee silent stood, with Horrors compassed: His Dutie mixt with woe; Kindenesse with rage; Reuerence, Reuenge, both representing shame, Equally against, and with a Mothers name. But as these shaddowes vanisht from his minde, The Globes of his enraged eyes he threw On me, like Nature iustly made vnkinde: And for this hatefull fault my Loue did make, From Pittie, Woe, and Anger, thus he spake: " Mother! Is this the way of Womans heart? Haue you no Law, or God; but Will, to friend? " Can neither Power, nor Goodnesse scape your Art? Be these the Counsells by which you ascend? " Is there no Hell? Or doe the Diuells loue fire? If neither God, Heauen, Hell, or Diuell be; " 'Tis plague enough that I am borne of thee. Mother! O monstrous Name! shall it be said, " That thou hast done this fact for Zangers sake? Honor, and Life, shall they to one vpbrayd, " That, from thy Mischiefe, they their Honor take? O wretched Men! which vnder shame are layd, " For faults which we, and which our Parents make. Yet Rossa! to be thine, in this I glorie; " That, being thine, giues power to make thee sorie. He wounds his heart; and falling downe with death On Mustapha, who there for his sake died; These words he spake: Ah base Ambition! mould of Crueltie, " In thy vast narrow bosome euer breed These hideous Counsells, light-abhorring deeds. " Yet you pure soules that Mahomet adore! Reade in these wounds my horror of his death, " And to the Christians cary thou it, Breath. He dies. Woes me. When in my heart I looke, Horror I see: all there lost but despayre: My Loue, and Ioy become Afflictions booke; Eternity of Shame is printed there. To thinke of God! Alas, that so I may: Yet Power, and Goodnesse can but shew me Feare: Mercie I cannot craue, that cannot trust: Nor die I will; for death concludeth paines: Nor languish in conceipt; for then I must Abhorre my soule, in which all Mischiefes raigne. I will beare with me, in this Bodies dust, What curse soeuer to the earth remaines. I will beare with me Enuie, Rage, Desire, To set all Hearts, all Times, all Worlds on fire. You weake Soules! whose true Loue hath made you base, And fixt your Quiets vpon others will: You humble Hearts! which vnto Power giue place, For conscience bearing yokes of Tyrants skill: You poore Religious! who in hope of grace, Beare many sore temptations of the ill, Reioyce: Vnkindnesse, Crueltie, Disgrace, Vengeance, and Wrong beare hence with me I will. Rather take heede: where can more Danger be, Than where these Powers may be dispos'd by me?
nodes 2532–2594 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 41 of 42 in this edition
Length
506 words · 791 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.811 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T10 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
But ah! Woe worth each false preposterous way, Which promiseth good lucke to euill deeds: Since Mustapha, whose death I made my Glorie, Hath left me no power now, but to be sorie. For Zanger, when he saw his Brother dead, Confusedly with diuerse shapes distract, Hee silent stood, with Horrors compassed: His Dutie mixt with woe; Kindenesse with rage; Reuerence, Reuenge, both representing shame, Equally against, and with a Mothers name. But as these shaddowes vanisht from his minde, The Globes of his enraged eyes he threw On me, like Nature iustly made vnkinde: And for this hatefull fault my Loue did make, From Pittie, Woe, and Anger, thus he spake: " Mother! Is this the way of Womans heart? " Haue you no Law, or God; but Will, to friend? " Can neither Power, nor Goodnesse scape your Art? " Be these the Counsells by which you ascend? " Is there no Hell? Or doe the Diuells loue fire? " If neither God, Heauen, Hell, or Diuell be; " 'Tis plague enough that I am borne of thee. " Mother! O monstrous Name! shall it be said, " That thou hast done this fact for Zangers sake? " Honor, and Life, shall they to one vpbrayd, " That, from thy Mischiefe, they their Honor take? " O wretched Men! which vnder shame are layd, " For faults which we, and which our Parents make. " Yet Rossa! to be thine, in this I glorie; " That, being thine, giues power to make thee sorie. He wounds his heart; and falling downe with death On Mustapha, who there for his sake died; These words he spake: " Ah base Ambition! mould of Crueltie, " In thy vast narrow bosome euer breed " These hideous Counsells, light-abhorring deeds. " Yet you pure soules that Mahomet adore! " Reade in these wounds my horror of his death, " And to the Christians cary thou it, Breath. He dies. Woes me. When in my heart I looke, Horror I see: all there lost but despayre: My Loue, and Ioy become Afflictions booke; Eternity of Shame is printed there. To thinke of God! Alas, that so I may: Yet Power, and Goodnesse can but shew me Feare: Mercie I cannot craue, that cannot trust: Nor die I will; for death concludeth paines: Nor languish in conceipt; for then I must Abhorre my soule, in which all Mischiefes raigne. I will beare with me, in this Bodies dust, What curse soeuer to the earth remaines. I will beare with me Enuie, Rage, Desire, To set all Hearts, all Times, all Worlds on fire. You weake Soules! whose true Loue hath made you base, And fixt your Quiets vpon others will: You humble Hearts! which vnto Power giue place, For conscience bearing yokes of Tyrants skill: You poore Religious! who in hope of grace, Beare many sore temptations of the ill, Reioyce: Vnkindnesse, Crueltie, Disgrace, Vengeance, and Wrong beare hence with me I will. Rather take heede: where can more Danger be, Than where these Powers may be dispos'd by me?