Markham, Gervase / Sampson, William · published 1622 · first performed or written 1622 [c.1619-1622] (Annals) tragedy · Red Bull (Revels) Company (first) · Red Bull T60 Imperial Rome: rulers, favour and politi typicality 0.88 · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T60: caesar, rome, emperor, empire, honour, lord, lucius, great, palsgrave, kings.
O royal Caesar, this grace thus performed In my poor Visitation; makes my Soul A Bondslave to thy Virtue. 'tis no more Than what your worth may challenge; only Sir, This violence on your person, by yourself, Must crave my reprehension. 'tis but fit: Yet royal Caesar, what should Nature do; When, like to me, it's grown unnatural? Turned a devouring Serpent; eating up The whole Fry it engendered; nay, the arms And branches of its body. Sir, 'twas I That killed the virtuous high Priest Aristobulus; See where he comes bright Angel-like: O stay, Do not afflict me further: how he moves Like gentle air about me: see, to him, Enters his royal Mother; hold, O hold; I do confess my vengeance, and will shed My lifeblood to appease you. Why, this is But fancy which torments you; here appears Nothing that's strange about us. See my Sons; My lovely Boys; 'tis true, I murdered you; Come, take revenge, and spare not: art thou there; O, let me fly and catch thee: be'st thou Flame, Blastings, or mortal Sickness; yet I dare Leap and embrace my dearest Marriam: Marriam, O Marriam; villains, let me go; You shall not hold me from her: O, a Sword, A Sword for heaven's mercy; for, but death, Nothing can join me to her. This is strange; Nor have I seen Passion more powerful: See you hold him fast. Shall I not reach my comfort? then, O come You that my wrath hath injured; stick, stick here The Arrows of your Poison: so; it works, it works. A Slumber overtakes him. Let him rest. Hold, O hold; whither is courage vanished? Pox of fears, And Dreams imaginations: shall I turn Coward whilst I am sleeping? No, I'll laugh Even in my Grave, at all my Villains: Yes, in despite of thee, and thee, and both Your damned base Bravadoes: ha, ha, ha; My mountebank and 's Zany! How can Hell Spare such neat skipping Rascals? What, my fine Neat shaving amorous Barber! See, I dare Face, and outface ye all; I Death himself; For, none of you, but died most worthily. Ha, I am now transfigured: stand away; Accuse me not you blessed Innocents: O, you do break my breast up, tear my Soul; And burn Offence to an Anatomy: I know my mischief slew you; give me leave, And I'll become both Priest and Sacrifice: They will not have mine Offering: see, theyare gone; And I am only fooled with Visions. Sit, and sleep out Phantasmas. Ha, ha, ha; This Vision doth not scar me; that you fell, 'Twas Justice and my Virtue; all your threats Do but augment my Triumph: go, pack hence; I grieve for nought but injured innocence. Where is the King my Master? What's thy will? Imperial Sir, 'tis from Antipater. Antipater? speak forth, I hear thee; that's a sound Ever craves mine attention.
seed 43: T1 · seed 44: T2 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
O royall Caesar, this grace thus perform'd In my poore Visitation; makes my Soule A Bondslaue to thy Vertue. Tis no more Then what your worth may challenge; onely Sir, This violence on your person, by your selfe, Must craue my reprehension. Tis but fit: Yet royall Caesar, what should Nature doe; When, like to me, its growne vnnaturall? Turn'd a deuouring Serpent; eating vp The whole Frye it ingendred; nay, the armes And branches of it's body. Sir, 'twas I That kil'd the vertuous high Priest Aristobulus; See where he comes bright Angel-like: O stay, Doe not afflict me further: how he moues Like gentle ayre about me: see, to him, Enters his royall Mother; hold, O hold; I doe confesse my vengeance, and will shed My life-bloud to appease you. Why, this is But fancy which torments you; here appeares Nothing that's strange about vs. See my Sonnes; My louely Boyes; tis true, I murder'd you; Come, take reuenge, and spare not: art thou there; O, let me flye and catch thee: bee'st thou Flame, Blastings, or mortall Sicknesse; yet I dare Leape and imbrace my dearest Marriam: Marriam, O Marriam; Villnes, let me goe; You shall not hold me from her: O, a Sword, A Sword for Heauens mercy; for, but death, Nothing can ioyne me to her. This is strange; Nor haue I seene Passion more powerfull: See you hold him fast. Shall I not reach my comfort? then, O come You that my wrath hath iniur'd; sticke, sticke here The Arrowes of your Poyson: so; it workes, it workes. A Slumber ouertakes him. Let him rest. Hold, O hold; whither is courage vanish't? Poxe of feares, And Dreames imaginations: shall I turne Coward whilst I am sleeping? No, Ile laugh Euen in my Graue, at all my Villames: Yes, in despight of thee, and thee, and both Your damned base Brauadoes: ha, ha, ha; My Mountebanke and s Zany! How can Hell Spare such neate skipping Raskals? What, my fine Neate shauing amorous Barber! See, I dare Face, and out-face yee all; I Death himselfe; For, none of you, but dyed most worthily. Ha, I am now transfigur'd: stand away; Accuse me not you blessed Innocents: O, you doe breake my brest vp, teare my Soule; And burne Offence to an Anatomy: I know my mischiefe slew you; giue me leaue, And Ile become both Priest and Sacrifice: They will not haue mine Offering: see, th'are gone; And I am onely fool'd with Visions. Sit, and sleepe out Phantasmas. Ha, ha, ha; This Vision doth not scarre me; that you fell, 'Twas Istice and my Vertue; all your threats Doe but augment my Triumph: go, pack hence; I grieue for naught but iniur'd innocence. Where is the King my Maister? What's thy will? Emperiall Sir, Tis from Antipater. Antipater? speake forth, I heare thee; that's a sound Euer craues mine attention.