Norton, Thomas / Sackville, Thomas · published 1570 · first performed or written 1562 [Jan 18] (Annals) tragedy · before the Court unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 442 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
Madame, alas, in vain these plaints are shed, Rather with me departed, and help to suage, The thoughtful griefs that in the aged king Must needs by nature grow, by death of this His only son, whom he did hold so dear. What wight is that which saw that I did see, And could refrain to wail with plaint and tears? Not I, alas, that heart is not in me. But let us go, for I am grieved anew, To call to mind the wretched father's woe. When greedy lust in royal seat to reign Hath rest all care of Gods and eke of men, And cruel heart, wrath, treason, and disdain Within ambitious breast are lodged, then Behold how mischief wide herself displays, And with the brother's hand the brother slays. When blood thus shed, doth stain the heavens face, Crying to Ioue for vengeance of the deed, The mightie God even moveth from his place, With wrath to wreak: then sends he forth with speed The dreadful furies, daughters of the night, With Serpents girt, carrying the whip of ire, With hear of stinging Snakes, and shining bright With flames and blood, and with a brand of fire. These for revenge of wretched murder done, Do make the mother kill her only son. Blood asketh blood, and death must death requited. Ioue by his just and everlasting doom justly hath ever so requited it. The times before record, and times to come Shall find it true, and so doth present proof Present before our eyes for our behoof. O happy wight that suffres not the snare Of murderous mind to tangle him in blood. And happy he that can in time beware By others harms and turn it to his good. But woe to him that fearing not to offend Doth serve his lust, and will not see the end, Did ever age bring forth such tyrants hearts? The brother hath bereft the brother's life, The mother she hath died her cruel hands In blood of her own son, and now at last The people lo forgetting troth and love, Contemning quite both law and loyal heart, Even they have slain their sovereign lord & queen. Shall this their traitorous crime unpunished rest? Even yet they cease not, carried on with rage, In their rebellious routs, to threaten still A new blood shed unto the prince's kin, To slay them all, and to uproote the race Both of the king and queen, so are they moved With Porrex death, wherein they falsely charge The guiltless king without desert at all, And traitorously have murdered him therefore, And eke the queen.
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)
Madame, alas, in vaine these plaints are shed, Rather with me depart, and helpe to swage, The thoughtfull griefes that in the aged king Must needes by nature growe, by death of this His onely sonne, whom he did holde so deare. What wight is that which saw y• I did see, And could refraine to waile with plaint and teares? Not I, alas, that hart is not in me. But let vs goe, for I am greued anew, To call to minde the wretched fathers woe. Whan greedy lust in royall seate to reigne Hath ret all care of Goddes and eke of men, And cruell hart, wrath, treason, and disoaine Within ambicious brest are lodged, then Beholde how mischiefe wide her selfe displayes, And with the brothers hand the brother slayes. When bloud thus shed, doth staine the heauens face, Crying to Ioue for vengeance of the deede, The mightic God euen moueth from his place, With wrath to wreke: then sendes he forth with spede The dreadfull furies, daughters of the night, With Serpentes girt, carying the whip of ire, With heare of stinging Snakes, and shining bright With flames and bloud, and with a brand of fire. These for reuenge of wretched murder done, Do make the mother kill her onely sonne. Blood asketh blood, and death must death requite. Ioue by his iust and euerlasting dome Iustly hath euer so requited it. The times before recorde, and times to come Shall finde it true, and so doth present proofe Present before our eyes for our behoofe. O happy wight that suffres not the snare Of murderous minde to tangle him in blood. And happy he that can in time beware By others harmes and turne it to his good. But wo to him that fearing not to offend Doth serue his lust, and will not see the end, Did euer age bring forth such tirants harts? The brother hath bereft the brothers life, The mother she hath died her cruell handes In bloud of her owne sonne, and now at last The people loe forgetting trouth and loue, Contemning quite both law and loyall hart, Euen they haue slaine their soueraigne lord & queene. Shall this their traitorous crime vnpunished rest? Euen yet they cease not, caryed on with rage, In their rebellious routes, to threaten still A new bloud shed vnto the princes kinne, To slay them all, and to vproote the race Both of the king and queene, so are they moued With Porrex death, wherin they falsely charge The giltlesse king without desert at all, And traitorously haue murdered him therfore, And eke the queene.