Gomersall, Robert · published 1633 · first performed or written 1628 [1622-1628] (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 502 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
ASsist me, Hell, for I intent an Act, Which should your puny fiends but think upon, Would make their blacker cheeks receive a blush, Would give a redness which your weaker Fire Had ne'er that heating power to work in them: An act, the heavens did only then declare They would permit to be performed by man When they created Night: for were all Day, Could such a Crime be as well seen as done, Their Immortality might justly fear, Lest all the guilt should be removed on them, As Idle, or as Cruel lookers on, Whilst heaven on Earth did suffer: this black night Must Isabel dye, die, by this hand: This Chapel is her ordinary walk, Discovered to me by her Iulia, Where when she comes to see her husband's tomb, This hand shall make her fit for such a room. PRince of shades, (for unto me Still thou keep'st thy Majesty) If thou art not wholly lost, And there's something in a Ghost: Hear thy Isabella's vow: If hereafter I allow Of a second match, or know Any man, but for a foe, Saving him that shall engage His revenge unto my rage: (Hear just heavens) may I then be Made another Ghost like thee, May I dye, and never have What I visit now, a Grave. O do not hear her Heaven, & kill me strait If I dare touch her: he that sees those eyes And dares attempt to make those eyes not see, Has a blind soul: burn clearer, you kind lights O do not envy me the sight of her: But what's there in a sight? I must be brief, If not for love, yet for ambition: Her Marriage makes me greater than her Death, And she has taught me the condition. Pardon, bright Angel, and return the sword, Which Sforza made me swear to sheathe in you, Into my bosom No, obey your Prince, If you have goodness in you keep your oath, Murder is nothing unto perjury. By this fair hand you injure me, and more Than ever Sforza did: can you suppose (Though you had heard the vows he forced me to) I meant what I protested? that this hand Which ever yet has used a sword for you, Would use it now for your destruction. Revoke that thought, dear Lady, that harsh thought, And let not so much sweeter innocence Make itself guilty by suspicion, Suspicion of impossibilities. Rather command, and you shall quickly see That he, who would have armed me against you, Shall find in his own entrailes the just steel. What traps are these to catch the Innocent? Sforza I smell your project, 'tis too rank. My Lord, no more: your speech is dangerous, I must not hear it. You shall see it then: Do not believe me Madam till I've done, Till I do bring my credit in my arms, The Traitor's head, and when you see that time, Confess you owe your life unto my crime.
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)
ASsist me, Hell, for I intend an Act, Which should your puny fiends but think upon, Would make their blacker cheeks receive a blush, Would give a rednesse which your weaker Fire Had ne're that heating pow'r to worke in them: An act, the Heav'ns did onely then declare They would permit to be perform'd by man When they created Night: for were all Day, Could such a Crime be as well seene as done, Their Immortality might justly feare, Lest all the guilt should be remov'd on them, As Idle, or as Cruell lookers on, Whilst heav'n on Earth did suffer: this blacke night Must Isabella dye, dye, by this hand: This Chappell is her ordinary walke, Discover'd to me by her Iulia, Where when she comes to see her husbands tombe, This hand shall make her fit for such a roome. PRince of shades, (for unto me Still thou keep'st thy Majesty) If thou art not wholly lost, And there's something in a Ghost: Heare thy Isabella's vow: If hereafter I allow Of a second match, or know Any man, but for a foe, Saving him that shall ingage His revenge unto my rage: (Heare just heav'ns) may I then be Made another Ghost like thee, May I dye, and never have What I visit now, a Grave. O doe not heare her Heav'n, & kill me straight If I dare touch her: he that sees those eyes And dares attempt to make those eyes not see, Has a blinde soule: burne clearer, you kind lights O doe not envy me the sight of her: But what's there in a sight? I must be briefe, If not for love, yet for ambition: Her Mariage makes me greater then her Death, And she has taught me the condition. Pardon, bright Angell, and returne the sword, Which Sforza made me sweare to sheath in you, Into my bosome No, obey your Prince, If you have goodnesse in you keepe your oath, Murther is nothing unto perjury. By this faire hand you injure me, and more Then ever Sforza did: can you suppose (Though you had heard the vowes he forc't me to) I meant what I protested? that this hand Which ever yet has us'd a sword for you, Would use it now for your destruction. Revoke that thought, deare Lady, that harsh thought, And let not so much sweeter innocence Make it selfe guilty by suspition, Suspition of impossibilities. Rather command, and you shall quickly see That he, who would have arm'd me against you, Shall finde in his owne entrailes the just steele. What traps are these to catch the Innocent? Sforza I smell your project, 'tis too ranke. My Lord, no more: your speech is dangerous, I must not heare it. You shall see it then: Doe not beleeve me Madam till I've done, Till I doe bring my credit in my armes, The Traitors head, and when you see that time, Confesse you owe your life unto my crime.