Markham, Gervase / Sampson, William · published 1622 · first performed or written 1622 [c.1619-1622] (Annals) tragedy · Red Bull (Revels) Company (first) · Red Bull unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 466 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Nay, perhaps Some new negotiations. Paper tongues, That may discover strange dissemblers. True, You have prevailed, break up those rotten Tombs, Let's see what Ghosts they harbour. Ha, what's this? O me, my Mother and my Brother! Eyes Drop out and see not their destruction. Unhappy chance. Unfortunate young man. 'Tis fate not to be shunned. Woe the time. What's here: the high Priest like a juggler? Are these his holy Garments; this his Robe, His Breastplate and his Ephod, his rich Coat, His Mitre and his Girdle? Can it be, That this was once Queen of Ierusalem? O you immortal Gods, to what disguise Will Treachery transform us! Rather think, How sharp a plague is Tyranny: O King, Remember 'tis the fiercest Beast, of all That are accounted savage; yet delights In Flattery, which is the worst of them That are tame and domestic: With these Fiends My life can find no pleasure; do not then Blame me to seek my freedom. Mighty Sir, If Life be th'only jewel Heaven can lend, And that in the Creation was not made A thing of equal purchase; how can we Offend, that but preserve it? You may say, It hath deceived us; yet Sir, I will think howe'er it finish here, 'tis but a stroke To draw it forth unto eternity. 'Tis a good resolution; for (believe't) Your days on earth are finished; treacherous plots Like these, shall not over take me. But your Tyranny Shall outrun all example: Sir, Despair Arms me with truth and boldness; I dare now Tell you, of Kings, you are the wickedest; And I, that in the ruins of my blood, Read your destroying nature, and collect Into a short brief many Tragedies, Acted upon our family; what hope Is left, that can assist us? You are plain. Truth hath no need of figures: was't not you That did betray Hircanus in his flight To the Arabian Monarch; and when laid In harmless sleep then slew him? Did not you Hire the bloody Cassius to cut off My father's head, (the loved Antigonus?) Have you not killed my Husband, trod my Sons Into the mire, that you might safely walk Over their heads unto Ambition? And can you hope, that we have any hope In you, but desolation? Your despair Turn temperance into folly; Charity Would more become the dying. 'tis confessed; Nor is it lost in this sad Argument: We know our lives are forfeit, take them Sir; To die, is the first contract that was made Twixt Mankind and the World; 'tis a debt, For which there's no forgiveness, th'only cause For which we were created; and, indeed, To die's man's nature, not his punishment; What folly then would shun it? Boldly Sir, Use what your power hath conquered.
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)
Nay, perhaps Some new negotiations. Paer tongues, That may discouer strange dissemblers. True, You haue preuail'd, breake vp those rotten Tombes, Lets see what Ghosts they harbor. Ha, whats this? O me, my Mother and my Brother! Eyes Drop out and see not their destruction. Vnhappy chance. Vnfortunate young-man. 'Tis fate not to be shunned. Woe the time. What's heere: the high Priest like a Iuggler? Are these his holy Garments; this his Roabe, His Brest-plate and his Ephod, his rich Coate, His Miter and his Girdle? Can it be, That this was once Queene of Ierusalem? O you immortall Gods, to what disguise Will Treachery transforme vs! Rather thinke, How sharpe a plague is Tyrannie: O King, Remember 'tis the fiercest Beast, of all That are accounted sauage; yet delights In Flattery, which is the worst of them That are tame and domestique: With these Fiends My life can finde no pleasure; doe not then Blame me to seeke my freedome. Mighty Sir, If Life bee th'onely Iewell Heauen can lend, And that in the Creation was not made A thing of equall purchase; how can wee Offend, that but preserue it? You may say, It hath deceiu'd vs; yet Sir, I will thinke How ere it finish heere, 'tis but a stroke To draw it forth vnto eternity. 'Tis a good resolution; for (beleeu't) Your dayes on earth are finisht; treacherous plots Like these, shall not ore take me. But your Tyrannie Shall out-runne all example: Sir, Despaire Armes me with truth and boldnesse; I dare now Tell you, of Kings, you are the wickedest; And I, thin the ruines of my blood, Read your destroying nature, and collect Into a short briefe many Tragedies, Acted vpon our family; what hope Is left, that can assist vs? You are plaine. Truth hath no need of figures: was't not you That did betray Hircanus in his flight To the Arabian Monarch; and when laid In harmelesse sleepe then slew him? Did not you Hire the bloody Cassius to cut off My fathers head, (the lou'd Antigonus?) Haue you not kild my Husband, troad my Sonnes Into the mire, that you might safely walke Ouer their heads vnto Ambition? And can you hope, that wee haue any hope In you, but desolation? Your despaire Turne temperance into folly; Charity Would more become the dying. Tis confest; Nor is it lost in this sad Argument: We know our liues are forfeyt, take them Sir; To dye, is the first contract that was made Twixt Mankinde and the World; tis a debt, For which there's no forgiuenesse, th'onely cause For which we were created; and, indeed, To die's mans nature, not his punishment; What folly then would shun it? Boldly Sir, Vse what your power hath conquer'd.