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 T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 522 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
Ere thy Command was passed: if these Honours, These titular glories, great Augustus gave me; If these offend my Sovereign, cut them off; Raze them from off my head; and let me be Any thing, but Herod's scorn; no misery Can work upon me half that troubled grief, As does one frown from those thy glorious eyes: Let not those white hairs now be stained with blood, Blood of thine own begetting; every drop In me, from thee had being; canst thou be so unkind, To cast thyself away? O sacred Sir, I see compassion in your tender eyes; Weeping for me, that moan your miseries. Through what a Labyrinth is mercy led; Rise in our favour evermore beloved. Rise in your favour! O Herod be more just; As thou art King; so be a God in justice; The blood of Babes, cries for thine equity: Remember but his Stratagems forepast; All which, acquitting, you are accessary. Think first on Aristobulus fell death; Your two brave Sons, and noble Iosephs fall: Next Pheroas your Brother; O, your native blood: And Alexandra, that most innocent Lady; unjustly and untimely brought to death, All through his poisonous Complots. All these are past and cannot be recalled. Let not his smooth words Sir entice you to him; In stillest Rivers are the greatest dangers: If none of these can move you to do justice, Whose Souls yet hovering still do cry Revenge; Yet there is one whose cause must not be slipped; Though Cannons roar yet must not you be deaf; But (like the glory you were made for) be A King, a God in judgement, and in justice: Sons are no longer Ours, than they are Natures; When Nature leaves them, we may leave our claim: Be this your warrant, justly to execute judgement on him, that has unjustly murdered Your Mother, Sons, Brothers, Sisters: if not for these; Think upon her as dear as was your life, Your Marriam; you innocent, chaste, fair Marriam; By his false witness, turned to untimely dust: O as you're great, be good, gracious, and just. All those forenamed were of no effect: My Marriam; O my heart: hence with the Slave; I'll hear no more of his enchanting words. O Herod, Kingly Father. Away with him; I'll blot out all Affinity: O Niraleus, he was so deeply rooted in our love; All those and thousands more could never work Me to have sent him from my presence: but My Marriam; O, the very name of her Is like a passing-Knell, to a sick man: For, if to be a King, is to be wretched; Then to be mean is to be glorious: The thought of Marriam, like a Fever burns, Dissects me every Nerve; I feel within My cogitations beating, things long passed Are now presented, now I suffer for them; I am grown a Monster, and could chafe myself Out of myself; I'm all on fire within: O Marriam, Marriam, Mistress of my Soul; I shall expire with breathing on thy name: Thy dear remembrance burns me: who attends? Give me some Fruit to cool me.
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)
Ere thy Command was past: if these Honours, These titular glories, great Augustus gaue me; If these offend my Soueraigne, cut them off; Raze them from off my head; and let me be Any thing, but Herods scorne; no misery Can worke vpon me halfe that troubled griefe, As does one frowne from those thy glorious eyes: Let not those white haires now be staind with blood, Blood of thine owne begetting; euery drop In me, from thee had being; canst thou be so vnkind, To cast thy selfe away? O sacred Sir, I see compassion in your tender eyes; Weeping for me, that mone your miseries. Through what a Labyrinth is mercy led; Rise in our fauor euermore belou'd. Rise in your fauour! O Herod be more iust; As thou art Kng; so be a God in Iustice; The blood of Babes, cyes sor thine equity: Remember but his Strattagems forepast; All which, acquitting, you are accessary. Thinke first on Aristobul fell death; Your two braue Sonnes, and noble Iosephs fall: Next Pheroas your Brother; O, your natiue blood: And Alexandra, that most innocent Lady; Vnistly and vntimely brought to death, All through his poysnous Complots. All these are past and cannot be recal'd. Let not his smooth words Sir intice you to him; In stillest Riuers are the greatest dangers: If none of these can moue you to doe Iustice, Whose Soules yet houering still doe cry Reuenge; Ye there is one whose cause must not be slipt; Though Cannons roare yet must not you be deafe; But (lke the glory you were made for) be A King, a God in Iudgement, and in Iustice: Sonnes are no longer Ours, then they are Natures; When Nature leaues them, we may leaue our claime: Be this your warrant, iustly to execute Iudgement on him, that ha's vniustly murdred Your Mother, Sons, Brothers, Sisters: if not for these; Thinke vpon her as deare as was your life, Your Marriam; you innocent, chast, faire Marriam; By his false witnesse, turn'd to vntimely dust: O as y'are great, be good, gracious, and iust. All those forenamed were of no effect: My Marriam; O my heart: hence with the Slaue; Ile heare no more of his inchanting words. O Herod, Kingly Father. Away with him; Ile blot out all Affinity: O Niraleus, he was so deeply rooted in our loue; All those and thousands more could neuer worke Me to haue sent him from my presence: but My Marriam; O, the very name of her Is like a passing-Knell, to a sicke man: For, if to be a King, is to be wretched; Then to be meane is to be glorious: The thoght of Marriam, like a Feuer burnes, Diffects me euery Nerue; I feele within My cogations beating, things long past Are now presentd, now I suffer for them; I m growne a Monster, and could chafe my selfe Out of my selfe; I'm all on fire within: O Marriam, Marriam, Mistris of my Soule; I shall expire with breathing on thy name: Thy deare remembrance burnes me: who attends? Gie me some Fruit to coole me.