Gomersall, Robert · published 1633 · first performed or written 1628 [1622-1628] (Annals) tragedy T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.78 · 486 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
This our first death: but then— O could cursed Time Dare ever such a Minute, such a Crime? Then was I pinioned, than these royal hands Were forced obedient to the base commands Of an insulting Conqueror, and knit Unto a hated union; 'twere fit If ever Heaven shed tears, then to distil Mournings Elixir, though th' expense should kill The hopes of after Ages: but Heaven smiled Nor any courteous clouds were wisely piled Over the Sun's sharp beams, but they gazed on With the same visage of compassion As did my torturers, by whom I'm brought Unto a place the which some shallower thought Has faint by termed a prison, but to tell The truth of horror, 'twas on Earth, an Hell: Darkness so dwelled there, that I might be won To wish the cruel comfort of the Sun, Which erst I rav'dat: 'twas a narrow cave, Formed to the model of a lesser grave, Or straitened Coffin, all was length, for they Left not the height that I might kneel to pray, Was ever such a bed? could ever yet Cruelty boast of such a subtle wit To bury so! some that have entered Earth Alive, like me, yet by the usual mirth Of justice had their burial with meat, As if't should be their punishment to eat, From which I'm barred, I had no food, but me, And yet a guest of famine; Courtesy At last seized heaven, I died, and so though late, I both appeased and triumphed over Fate. But where am I? what ecstasy was this? How quickly we learn misery? no ghost Would have so courteosly relinquished Hell To teach us happiness: if a kind star Had cast a Fortune on us beyond wish, We might expect the story from the star Assoon as the dear benefit: but when grief That against which we would seal up our ears, When that is meant us, we shall surely hear, Though heaven do strain for a new Miracle, So to amaze us to a certainty: Though rotten carcases regain a voice, And hell is bounteous of intelligence, To give us tears. Why, then an end to tears, Let's scorn the sorrow, which we owe to hell: How learn we the prodigious effects Of wise Ambition: for 'twere easy justice To ruin foolish usurpation, Heaven needs not stickle in't: but when those men Who are as accurate, as bad, who can So shape their vice into a virtuous mould, That we repine at the accusers more, Then at the guilty: when that these men fall, Who then will call that wise, which he sees bad? Such wisdom made, and ruined him: than ye That dazzle with your Majesty, and sit Too near to thunder, and not fear it, know Sforza, and learn a wise contempt of wisdom, Frailty attends your best, and strongest trick, And there's no fool unto the Politic.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 2040–2102 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 32 of 33 in this edition
Length
486 words · 628 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.777 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
This our first death: but then — O could curst Time Dare ever such a Minute, such a Crime? Then was I pinion'd, then these royall hands Were forc'd obedient to the base commands Of an insulting Conqueror, and knit Vnto a hated union; t'were fit If ever Heav'n shed teares, then to distill Mournings Elixar, though th' expence should kill The hopes of after Ages: but Heav'n smil'd Nor any courteous clouds were wisely pil'd Over the Suns sharpe beames, but they gaz'd on With the same visage of compassion As did my torturers, by whom I'me brought Vnto a place the which some shallower thought Has faint by term'd a prison, but to tell The truth of horror, t'was on Earth, an Hell: Darknesse so dwelt there, that I might be wonne To wish the cruell comfort of the Sunne, Which earst I rav'dat: twas a narrow cave, Form'd to the modell of a lesser grave, Or straitned Coffin, all was length, for they Left not the hight that I might kneele to pray, Was ever such a bed? could ever yet Cruelty boast of such a subtle wit To bury so! some that have entred Earth Alive, like me, yet by the usuall mirth Of justice had their buriall with meat, As if't should be their punishment to eate, From which Ime barr'd, I had no food, but me, And yet a guest of famine; Courtesie At last ceiz'd heav'n, I dy'd, and so though late, I both appeas'd and triumpht over Fate. But where am I? what extasie was this? How quickely we learne misery? no ghost Would have so courteosly relinquisht Hell To teach us happinesse: if a kind starre Had cast a Fortune on us beyond wish, We might expect the story from the starre Assoone as the deare benefit: but when griefe That against which we would seale up our eares, When that is meant us, we shall surely heare, Though heav'n doe straine for a new Miracle, So to amaze us to a certainty: Though rotten carkasses regaine a voice, And hell is bounteous of intelligence, To give us teares. Why, then an end to teares, Let's scorne the sorrow, which we owe to hell: How learne we the prodigious effects Of wise Ambition: for twere easie justice To ruine foolish usurpation, Heav'n needs not stickle in't: but when those men Who are as accurate, as bad, who can So shape their vice into a vertuous mould, That we repine at the accusers more, Then at the guilty: when that these men fall, Who then will call that wise, which he sees bad? Such wisedome made, and ruin'd him: then ye That dazle with your Majesty, and sit Too neere to thunder, and not feare it, know Sforza, and learne a wise contempt of wisdome, Frailty attends your best, and strongest tricke, And there's no foole unto the Politicke.