Norton, Thomas / Sackville, Thomas · published 1565 · first performed or written 1562 [Jan 18] (Annals) tragedy · before the Court T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.81 · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
On the Porrex, thou false and caitiff wight, If after blood, so eager were thy thirst And Murderous mind had so possessed thee, If such hard heart of Rock and stony Flint lived in thy breast, that nothing else could like Thy cruel tyrants thought but death & blood Wild savage beasts mought not the slaughter serve To feed thy greedy will, and in the midst Of their entrails to stain thy deadly hands With blood deserved, and drink thereof thy fill: Or if nought else but death and blood of man Mought please thy lust, could none in Britain land Whose heart be torn out of his loving breast With thine own hand, or work what death thou wouldest Suffice to make a Sacrifice to appease wouldest That deadly mind & murderous thought in thee? But he who in the self same womb was wrapped Where thou in dismal hour receivedst life? Or if needs, needs this hand must slaughter make Moughist thou not have reached a mortal wound And with thy sword have pierced this cursed womb? That the accursed Porrex brought to light? And given me a just reward therefore. So Ferrex, if sweet life mought have enjoyed And to his aged father comfort brought, wt some yong sonne in whom thei both might liue But whereunto waste I this ruthful speech? To the that hast thy brother's blood thus shed Shall I still think that from this womb thou sprung? That I thee bare? or take thee for my son? No Traitor, no: I the refuse for mine, Murderer I thee renounce, thou art not mine: Never, O wretch, this womb conceived thee, Nor never bode I painful throws for thee: Changeling to me thou art, and not my child Nor to no wight, that spark of pity knew, Ruthless, unkind, Monster of Nature's work. Thou never sucked the milk of woman's breast But from thy birth the cruel Tigers teats Have nursed, nor yet of flesh and blood Formed is thy heart, but of hard Iron wrought. And wild and desert woods bread thee to life: But canst thou hope to scape my just revenge? Or that these hands will not be wrooke on thee? Dost thou not know that Ferrex mother lives That loved him more dearly then herself? And doth she live, and is not venged on thee? WE marvel much whereto this lingering stay Falls out so long: Porrex unto our Court By order of our Letters is returned And Eubulus received from us by hest At his arrival here to give him charge Before our presence straight to make repair And yet we have no word whereof he stays. Lo where he comes and Eubulus with him. According to your highness hest to me Here have I Porrex brought even in such sort As from his wearied Horse he did alight, For that your Grace did will such haste therein.
nodes 1011–1069 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 17 of 29 in this edition
Length
489 words · 612 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.813 (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)
On the Porrex, thou falſe and caytife wighte, If after blode, ſo eigre were thy thirſt And Murderous minde had ſo poſſeſſed thee, If ſuche hard hart of Rocke and ſtonie Flint Lyued in thy breſt, that nothing elles could like Thy cruell Tyrantes thought but death & bloode Wild ſauage beaſts mought not y• ſlaughter ſerue To fede thy gredie will, and in the myddeſt Of their entrailes to ſtaine thy deadlie handes With blode deſerued, and drinke therof thy fyll: Or if nought els but death and bloud of man Mought pleaſe thy luſt, could none in Bryttain land Whoſe hart be torne out of his louyng breſt With thine owne hand, or work what death thou woldeſt Suffice to make a Sacrifice to appeaze woldeſt That deadlie minde & murderous thought in the? But he who in the ſelf ſame wombe was wrapped Where thou in diſmall hower receiuedſt life? Or if nedes, nedes thi hand muſt ſlaughter make Moughiſt thou not haue reached a mortall wound And wt thy ſworde haue perſed this curſed womb? That the accurſed Porrex brought to lyght? And geuen me a iuſt rewarde therfore. So Ferrex, if ſwete life mought haue enioyed And to his aged father comfort brought, wt ſome yong ſonne in whom thei both might liue But wherevnto waſt I this ruthefull ſpeche? To the that haſt thy brothers bloud thus ſhed Shall I ſtil think yt from this womb thou ſprong? That I thee bare? or take thee for my ſonne? No Traytour, no: I the refuſe for mine, Murderer I thee renounce, thou art not mine: Neuer, O wretche, this wombe conceued thee, Nor neuer bode I painefull throwes for thee: Changeling to me thou art, and not my childe Nor to no wight, that ſparke of pytie knewe, Rutheles, vnkind, Monſter of Natures worke. Thou neuer ſuckte the milke of womans breaſte But from thy birth the cruell Tigres teates Haue nurſed, nor yet of fleſſhe and bloud Formed is thy hart, but of hard Iron wrought. And wilde and deſert woods breade thee to lyfe: But canſt thou hope to ſcape my iuſt reuenge? Or that theſe handes will not be wrooke on thee? Doeſt thou not knowe that Ferrex mother lyues That loued him more dearelie then her ſelfe? And doth ſhe lyue, and is not venged on thee? WE marueyle muche wherto this lingeryng ſtaie Falles out ſo longe: Porrex vnto our Courte By order of our Letters is retourned And Eubulus receyued from vs by heſt At his arriuale here to geue him charge Before our preſence ſtreight to make repaire And yet we haue no worde wherof he ſtaies. Loe where he cōmes and Eubulus with hym. Accordynge to your highnes heſt to me Here haue I Porrex brought euen in ſuche ſort As from his weried Horſe he did alighte, For that your Grace did will ſuche haſte therein.