Hoffman, or A Revenge for a Father · chunk 25 of 39
Chettle, Henry · published 1631 · first performed or written 1602 [Dec 29, payment] (Annals) tragedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 523 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
ay sir woe worth him, farewell Stilt, farewell fathers I ask you pardon with repentant eyes; Fall stars, O Stilt, for thus thy master dies. Take hence that maytor for the fool his man. I pray provide for me sit; Let him be tortured, then upon a wheel broke like a traitor and a murderer. O lord sir. I meant you no hurt, but to Prince Charles Away, disturb us not with idle talk. Provide quoth a● and you call this providing, pray let me, provide for myself, alas my poor father, he'll creep upon crutches into his grave when, he hears his proper'st Stilt is cut off by the stumps. Hence with that fellow. Pray, not so hasty, you would scarce be so forward, and you were going as I am, to the gallows. How cheers my royal uncle? Like a ship that having long contended with The waves, is at last with one proud billow Smit into the ruthless swallow of the sea. For thee alas I perceive this plot was laid; But heaven had greater mercy-on shy youth, And one my people, that shall find true rest Being with a Prince so wise and virtuous blessed. Farewell most noble Iohn of Saxony, Bear thy unmatched grief with a mind bent Against the force of all temptations; By my example Princely brother, see, How vain our lives and all our glories be. God for thy mercy! treason upon treason, How now young Otho what art thou poisoned too? Would God I were, but my sad stars reserve This simple building for extremer ruin: Oh that French doctor. I that worst of hell. no torment shall content us in his death. Nay soft and fair, let him be taken first; How now sad brother, are you come to see This Tragic end of worthy Ferdinand? I heard of it too soon, and come too late. Well brother leave the Duke, and wait on me; Mathias, and the heart-grieved Lucibell Shall go with us to Wittenberg, and shun That fatal land filled with destruction. But Lucibella like a chased hind flies through the thickets, and neglects the briers, After her runs your Princely son Mathias, As much disturbed, though not so much distract, Vowing to follow her, and if he can, Defend her from despairing actions. And we will follow them, Prince Otho adieu Care goes with us, yet we leave grief with you, Inter your uncle, punish traitors crimes, Look to your persons these are dangerous times, Lords take this body, bear it to the court, And all the way sound a sad heavy march, Which you may truly keep, than people tread A mournful march indeed, Go on afore, i'll stay a while, and weep My tributary tears paid on the ground Where my true joy your Prince my uncle fell: I'll follow to drive from you all distress And comfort you, though I be comfortless. Art not thou plumped with laughter my Lorrique, All this excellent, but worthy Lord, There is an accident this instant chanced Able to overthrow in one poor hour as well your hopes as these assurances.
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)
I sir woe worth him, farewell Stilt, farewell fathers I aske you pardon with repentant eyes; Fall stars, O Stilt, for thus thy master dyes. Take hence that maytor for the foole his man. I pray prouide for me sit; Let him be tortur'd, then vpon a wheele broke like a traytor and a murderer. O lord sir. I meant you noe hurt, but to Prince Charles Away, distur be vs not with idle talke. Prouide quoth a and you call this prouiding, pray let mee, prouide for my selfe, alas my poore father, hee'le creepe vppon crutches into his graue when, he heares his proper'st Stilt is cut off by the stumpes. Hence with that fellow. Pray, not soe hasty, you would scarce bee soe forward, and you were going as I am, to the gallowes. How cheares my royall vncle Likea ship that hauing long contended with The waues, is at last with one proud billow Smit into the ruthlesse swallow of the sea. For thee alas I perceiue this plot was lay de; But heauen had greater mercy-on hy youth, And one my people, that shall finde true rest Being with a Prince so wise and vertuous blest. Farewell most noble Iohn of Saxony, Beare thy vnmatched griefe with a minde bent Against the force of all temptations; By my example Princely brother, see, How vaine our liues and all our glories bee. God for thy mercy! treason vpon treason, How now yong Otho what art thou poyson'd too? Would God I were, but my sad starrs reserue This simple building for extreamer ruine: Oh that French doctor. I that worst of hell. Noe torment shall content vs in his death. Nay soft and faire, let him be taken first; How now sad brother, are you come to see This Tragicke end of worthy Ferdinand? I heard of it too soone, and come too late. Well brother leaue the Duke, and waite on mee▪ Mathias, and the heartgreiu'd Lucibell Shall goe with vs to Wittenberg, and shun That fatall land fild with destruction. But Lucibella like a chased hinde Flys through the thickets, and neglects the bryers, After her runs your Princely son Mathias, As much disturbd, though not so much distract, Vowing to follow her, and if he can, Defend her from dispairing actions. And we will follow them, Prince Otho adue Care goes with vs, yet we leaue griefe with you, Interre your vncle, punish traytours crimes, Looke to your person▪ hese are dangerous times, Lords take this body, beare it to the court, And all the way sound a sad heauy march, Which you may truly keepe, then peeple treade A mournesfull march indeed, Goe on afore, ile stay a while, and weepe My tributary teares paid on the ground Where my true ioy your Princemy vncle fell: Ile follow to driue from you all distresse And comfort you, though I be comfortles. Art not thou plumpt with laughter my Lorrique, All this excellent, but worthy Lord, There is an accident this instant chanc'st Able to ouerthrow in one poore howre Aswell your hopes as these assurances.