Markham, Gervase / Sampson, William · published 1622 · first performed or written 1622 [c.1619-1622] (Annals) tragedy · Red Bull (Revels) Company (first) · Red Bull T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.83 · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Enough, too much; thoust slain me Pheroas; O, I have lost in her death more true joys, Than Heaven can give or, earth is worthy of: I am a Traitor to myself and love; To Nature, Virtue, Beauty, Excellence; I have destroyed the whole world; for but her, It had no Soul, nor moving; no delight, No triumph, glory, or continuance: I cannot live to lose her; call her back, Or I shall die complaining. This is strange Can the dead be awakened? Easily Sir, My sighs shall breathe life in her; and my voice Rouse her, as doth a Trumpet; nay, more loved Than either wind or Thunder: canst thou think That I can live without her; she, to whom The whole world was a Theater, where men Sat viewing her good actions; she, that had As much right unto Paradise, as Kings Have to their Courts and Kingdoms; she that lent Mintage to others beauties; for, none are Or good, or fair, but such as looked like her: She, in whose body sweetly was contained Th'eastern Spicery, the Western treasure, And all the world holds happy: may it be That I can live and want her? or, could I With one sad breath destroy her? she, that had (In her own thoughts) read all that ere was writ, To better, or instruct us: She, that knew Heaven so well on Earth; that, being there, she finds no more than she did think on here; And have I killed her? She, whose very dreams Were more devout than our Petitions; Have I profaned that Temple? Fall, O fall down to the ground and perish; ne'er look up, But when or Blastings, Mildews, lightnings, O poysonous Serenes strike thee. Herod, heere, O here, dig up thy grave with sorrow. Fie, 'tis unfit Greatness should yield to passion. You're a fool; He that not mourns for her, will never mourn; But is worse than the Devil. Marriam, O Marriam; thou that through the Spheres (As through so many golden Beads) hast run, In one poor moment, to felicity; Look down upon thy Vassal, me thy Slave, And see how much I languish: let thine eye Guild my complaints, and cheer my misery. O royal Sir, take better comfort; There was ne'er on Earth a Creature worth your sorrow. Sir, you lie; deadly and falsely; for she doth deserve The tears of men and Angels: she, O she, Of whom the Ancients prophesied, when first They made all virtue's Females; She, that was The first and best fair Copy, from whose lines The world might draw perfection: She, not worth The tears of all that's living? Dullness, go; Pack from my sight for ever: O, 'twas thou, Thou that didst make me kill her: hence, avaunt; By all that's good or holy; if, from hence Thou ere presume to see me, or come near The place of my abiding; 'tis thy death, As certain as Fate spoke it.
nodes 1352–1415 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 20 of 44 in this edition
Length
496 words · 688 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.834 (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)
Enough, too much; th'ast slaine me Pheroas; O, I haue lost in her death more true ioyes, Then Heauen can giue or, earth is worthy of: I am a Traitor to my selfe and loue; To Nature, Vertue, Beauty, Excellence; I haue destroy'd the whole world; for but her, It had no Soule, nor mouing; no deligt, No triumph, glory, or continuance: I cannot liue to lose her; call her backe, Or I shall dye complaining. This is strange Can the dead be awaken'd? Easily Sir, My sighes shall breath life in her; and my voyce Rouze her, as doth a Trumpet; nay, more lou'd Then either winde or Thunder: canst thou thinke That I can liue without her; she, to whom The whole world was a Theater, where men Sate viewing her good actions; she, that had As much right vnto Paradise, as Kings Hae to their Courts and Kingdomes; shee that lent Mintage to others beauties; for, none are Or good, or faire, but such as lookt like her: Shee, in whose body sweetly was contain'd Th'Easterne Spicery, the Westerne treasure, And all the world holds happy: may it be That I can liue and want her? or, could I With one sad breath destroy her? she, that had (In her owne thoughts) read all that ere was writ, To better, or instruct vs: Shee, that knew Heauen so well on Earth; that, being there, See finds no more then she did thinke on heere; And haue I kild her? She, whose very dreames Were more deuout then our Petitions; Haue I prophan'd that Temple? Fall, O fall Downe to the grond and perish; nere looke vp, But when or Blastings, Mildewes, Lightenings, O poysonous Serenes strike thee. Herod, heere, O heere, digge vp thy graue with sorrow. Fie, tis vnfit Greatnesse should yeeld to passion. Y'are a foole; He that not mournes for her, will neuer mourne; But is worse then the Diuell. Marriam, O Marriam; thou that through the Spheares (As through so many golden Beads) hast runne, In one poore moment, to felicity; Looke downe vpon thy Vassall, me thy Slaue, And see how much I languish: let thine eye Guild my complaints, and cheere my misery. O oyall Sir, take better comfort; There was nere on Earth a Creature worth your sorrow. Sir, you ie; deadly and falsly; for she doth deserue The teares of men and Angels: She, O shee, Of who the Ancients prophesied, when first They made all Vertues Females; She, that was The first and best faire Copie, from whose lines The world might draw perfection: She, not worth The teares of all thats liuing? Dlnesse, goe; Packe from my sight for euer: O, 'twas thou, Thou that didst make me kill her: hence, auaunt; By all that's good or holy; if, from hence Thou ere presume to see me, or come neere The place of my abiding; 'tis thy death, As certaine as Fate spoke it.