Gomersall, Robert · published 1633 · first performed or written 1628 [1622-1628] (Annals) tragedy T10 England and France: war, embassy and pea typicality 0.78 · 493 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
What is past our help, Let it be past our grief: 'tis fortitude To suffer chances counterbuffs as one That by his expectation had deceived All her faint threatenings: till this sadder time Your life has had one constant scene of joy, Which here is interrupted: you should thank The heavens because they were not tedious In their delights: for this variety. As hunger praiseth feasts, so it may be You'll love joy better for this misery. HOw covetous thou art to learn mishap? Beatrice the answer kills thee. Kill me then, But not deny me Dearest, I am lost, And in my ruin, thou. I would be so, Safety were ruin were it otherwise, Yet tell me Sforza, how are you so lost? O what a busy torture woman is! I must say somewhat, but the maine is silence, Vitellio's loss, yes, that hath lost me too: No sooner killed then lost, so strangely gone, As if the dead had learned a motion So to convey themselves unto the grave. Will you be still unkind? Thou shalt hear all. The French have conquered Naples, & which draws Blood from our soul, without a drop of blood: When thus we plotted it, that when both Kings Had wearied out themselves with equal slaughter, And here Alphonso tottered, and there Charles; When loss had seized the conqueror, than we Would have amazed the conqueror afresh With new alarms: when by the flattery Of chance, France gets a kingdom without blood, And by dry victory has undone a plot Worth many Kingdoms: I presumed on this, Naples had soldiers enough to last Killing a year, in which space, we resolved To arm all Italy against the French, And cunningly drive out, whom we called in: Which, ere we could accomplish, is disclosed, And conquering France intends to hinder it, By our invasion: o my policy! Must I be wounded with the sword I gave? And find those enemies, whom only I Enabled to my injury? well; heaven, Your kindness is a miracle sometime, Beyond all reason, but your curse is wit, My fault is my faults punisher. Long life, And happy to our Duke. How my Ascanio? Recall thyself, good Cardinal, what Duke Whilst Galeazzo lives? Most truly Duke, For Galeazzo's dead. Alas poor child, I could have wished thee longer life, but since heavens will is otherwise, 'twere blasphemy To storm at that which is the will of heaven. I hate that impotent rebellion. My Lord, so cross was Fortune, that you were Made almost bankrupt by a too much thrift: For when you had discharged those numerous troops Whose charges lay as hard upon the State As an invasion could, than Orleans moved And stole Navarra, which disastrous news So heated the remainder of your troops (As if you had added to their valour more, When you abated from their multitudes) That by a nimble victory, they made His conquest be his prison.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 526–600 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 9 of 33 in this edition
Length
493 words · 634 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T10 — England and France: war, embassy and peacecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.780 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T8 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
What is past our helpe, Let it be past our griefe: tis fortitude To suffer chances counterbuffes as one That by his expectation had deceiv'd All her faint threatnings: till this sadder time Your life has had one constant scene of joy, Which here is interrupted: you should thanke The heav'ns because they were not tedious In their delights: for this variety. As hunger praiseth feasts, so it may be Youle love joy better for this misery. HOw covetous thou art to learne mishap? Beatrice the answer kills thee. Kill me then, But not deny me Dearest, I am lost, And in my ruine, thou. I would be so, Safety were ruine were it otherwise, Yet tell me Sforza, how are you so lost? O what a busie torture woman is! I must say somewhat, but the maine is silence, Vitellioes losse, yes, that hath lost me too: No sooner kill'd then lost, so strangely gone, As if the dead had learnt a motion So to convey themselves unto the grave. Will you be still vnkind? Thou shalt heare all. The French have cōquer'd Naples, & wch drawes Blood from our soule, without a drop of blood: When thus we plotted it, that when both Kings Had wearied out themselves with equal slaughter, And here Alphonso totter'd, and there Charles; When losse had seiz'd the conqueror, then we Would have amaz'd the conqueror afresh With new alarmes: when by the flattery Of chance, France gets a kingdom without blood, And by dry victory has undone a plot Worth many Kingdomes: I presum'd on this, Naples had souldiers enough to last Killing a yeare, in which space, we resolv'd To arme all Italy against the French, And cunningly drive out, whom we call'd in: Which, ere we could accomplish, is disclos'd, And conqu'ring France intends to hinder it, By our invasion: ô my policy! Must I be wounded with the sword I gave? And find those enemies, whom onely I Enabled to my injury? well; heav'n, Your kindnesse is a miracle sometime, Beyond all reason, but your curse is wit, My fault is my faults punisher. Long life, And happy to our Duke. How my Ascanio? Recall thy selfe, good Cardinall, what Duke Whilst Galeazzo lives? Most truly Duke, For Galeazzo's dead. Alas poore child, I could have wish'd thee longer life, but since Heav'ns will is otherwise, twere blasphemy To storme at that which is the will of heav'n. I hate that impotent rebellion. My Lord, so crosse was Fortune, that you were Made almost banqu'rout by a too much thrift: For whē you had discharg'd those numerous troops Whose charges lay as hard upon the State As an invasion could, then Orleance mov'd And stole Navarra, which disastrous newes So heated the remainder of your troopes (As if you had added to their valour more, When you abated from their multitudes) That by a nimble victory, they made His conquest be his prison.