Mason, John · published 1610 · first performed or written 1607 [1607-1608] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the King's Revels T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.84 · 520 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
And now my Lords, seeing that she is dead, For whom you raised these arms against our walls, I hope your furious angers live no longer. We are appeased: Venice I thus salute thee, and reconcile my fury in thy arms. 'Sdeath dead? Descend Protector, with her our arms are dead. I am amazed: possess me patience, Credulity Ferrara is a virtue, I believe it: Borgias: oh my spleen, That he should think me so ridiculous, To fasten any faith on policy, The stateliest general prop is jealousy, On all men & their actions: I know it not. Should I think her murdered, or that she still doth live? And feed some hope by deeming him a villain, That soothes this sorrowful news into our ears? I might herein seem politic, and nurse Some mischief in my bosom for revenge, Of that wherein I but suspect a wrong. The tricks of state-moles that work under Princes, Are at the best, but like the viper's young, That howsoe'er prodigious and hurtful, To many open and secure passengers, Yet do they never live: without the death Of him that first gave motion to their breath. This keeps me honest still, the heavens and fate Are the best guardians to a wronged state. Laying aside all fear of what you may, Thus to your powers we do expose our lives, Your wrongs we do confess might speak revenge, Did not this flood of sudden grief, take up All passion in itself: speak mighty Dukes, Lives Florence in your loves? with Julia's death Dies the memorial of your former wrongs? I forget them all. I take no pleasure in revenge. Then are our City gates open to your loves, And beg a favour due unto the dead: This night the funeral hearse of Iulia, (I know that name is dear unto you both) Returns again to her creation. This night the ravenous mother of the world, (The all corrupting earth that eats her young) Swalloweth the body of your Iulia. This night she takes a farewell of us all: Then let it be a witness of your loves, To give her hearse an honour with your presence. Should we not grant this, we might be taxed Of much dishonour. I were not worthy that it should be said I levied arms for love of Iulia, Should I deny my presence at her hearse. My love, the near alliance to her blood, The dear remembrance of my Sovereign dead, Whose love committed her unto my care, Makes me accept this honour done to me: And I stand bound in bonds of gratitude To both your princely worths: in lieu of which, Let my emboldened weakness mighty Lords, Presume t'invite you to a funeral supper, A banquet forced by ceremonious custom, As a due obsequy. The love of Iulia Exacts from me all rights of custom. I yield my presence. Your guards shall be my honour for this night, Your several armies during your stay in Florence, Shall be maintained at our City's charge, In recompense of love to Iulia. We thank you. We thank your
nodes 210–281 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 4 of 35 in this edition
Length
520 words · 669 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.836 (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)
And now my Lords, seeing that she is dead, For whome you raisd these armes against our walls, I hope your furious angers liue no longer. We are appeasd: Venice I thus salute thee, and reconcile my fury in thy armes. S'death dead? Discend Protector, with her our armes are dead. I am amazd: possesse me patience, Credulity Frrara is a vertue, I beleeue it: Borgias: oh my splene, That he should thinke me so rediculous, To fasten any faith on pollicy, The stateliest generall prop is iealousie, On all men & their actions: I know it not. Should I thinke her murdred, or that she still doth liue? And feede some hope by deeming him a villaine, That sooths this sorrowfull newes into our eares? I might herein seeme polliticke, and nurse Some mischiefe in my bosome for reuenge, Of that wherein I bt suspect a wrong. The trickes of State-moules that worke vnder Princes, Are at the best, but like the vipers young, That how-so-ere prodigious and hurtfull, To many open and secure passengers, Yet do they neuer liue: without the death Of him that first gaue motion to their breath. This keepes me honest still, the heauens and fate Are the best guardians to a wronged sate. Laying aside all feare of what you may, Thus to your powers we do xpose our liues, Your wrongs we do confesse might speake reuenge, Did not this flood of sudden griefe, take vp All passion in it selfe: speake mighty Dukes, Liues Florence in your loues? with Iulias death Dies the memoriall of your former wrongs? I forget them all. I take no pleasure in reuenge. Then are our Citty gates ope to your loues, And beg a fauour due vnto the dead: This night the funerall hearse of Iulia, (I know that name is deere vnto you both) Returnes againe to her creation. This night the rauenous mother of the world, (The all corrupting earth that eats her yong) Swalloweth the body of your Iulia. This night she takes a farwell of vs all: Then let it be a witnesse of your loues, To giue her hearse an honor with your presence. Should we not graunt this, we might be taxt Of much dishonor. I were not worthy that it should be said I leuyed armes for loue of Iulia, Should I deny my presence at her hearse. My loue, the neere alliance to her blood, The deere remembrance of my Soueraigne dead, Whose loue committed her vnto my care, Makes me accept this honor done to me: And I stand bound in bonds of gratitude To both yor princely worths: in lieu of which, Let my emboldned weaknesse mighty Lords, Presume t'inuite you to a funerall supper, A banquet forc'd by ceremonius custome, As a due obsequy. The loue of Iulia Exacts fom me all rights of custome. I yeelde my presence. Your guards shall be my honor for this night, Your seuerall armies during your stay in Florence, Shall be maintained at our Cities charge, In recompence of loue to Iulia. We thanke you. We thanke yous