Fletcher, John / Massinger, Philip · published 1637 · first performed or written 1625(?) (Annals) comedy · King's Men · Blackfriars T46 Swords, quarrels and valour typicality 0.79 · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T46: rapier, sword, fight, gentlemen, gentleman, kicked, kill, dagger, signor, valour.
I'm no Gamester, Eustace, Yet I can guess your resolution stands To win or lose all; I rejoice to find ye Thus tender of your honour, and that at length You understand what a wretched thing you were, How deeply wounded by yourself, and made Almost incurable, in your own hopes The dead flesh of pale cowardice growing over Your festered reputation, which no balm Or gentle unguent ever could make way to, And I am happy, that I was the Surgeon, That did apply those burning corrosives That render you already sensible O th' danger you were plunged in, teaching you, And by a fair gradation, how far And with what curious respect and care The peace and credit of a man within, (Which you were thought till now) should be preferred Before a gaudy outside, pray you fix here, For so far I go with you. This discourse Is from the subject. I'll come to it brother, But if you think to build upon my ruins, You'll find a false foundation, your high offers Taught by the masters of dependencies, That by compounding differences 'tween others Supply their own necessities, with me Will never carry 't; As you are my brother, I would dispense a little, but no more Than honour can give way to; nor must I Destroy that in myself I love in you, And therefore let not hopes nor threats persuade you, I will descend to any composition, For which I may be censured. You shall fight then. With much unwillingness with you, but if There's no evasion— None. Hear yet a word, As for the sword and other fripperies, In a fair way send for them, you shall have 'em, But rather than surrender Angellina, Or hear it again mentioned, I oppose My breast unto loud thunder, cast behind me All ties of Nature. She detained, I'm deaf To all persuasion. Guard thyself then Eustace, I use no other Rhetoric. Clashing of swords So near my house? brother opposed to brother! Here is no fencing at half-sword, hold, hold, Charles, Eustace. Second him, or call in more help, Come not between us, I'll not know nor spare you; D'ye fight by th' book? 'tis you that wrong me, off Sir, And suddenly I'll conjure down the spirit That I have raised in him. Never Charles, Till thine, and in thy death, be doubled in me. I'm out of breath, yet trust not too much to't boys', For if you pause not suddenly, and hear reason. Do, kill your Uncle, do, but that I'm patient, And not a choleric old tasty fool, Like your father, I'd dance a matachin with you, Should make you sweat your best blood for't, I would, And it may be I will, Charles I command thee, And Eustace I entreat thee, thouart a brave Spark, A true tough metalled blade, and I begin To love thee heartily, give me a fighting Courtier, I'll cherish him for example; in our age theyare not borne every day.
nodes 2363–2436 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 36 of 39 in this edition
Length
505 words · 668 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T46 — Swords, quarrels and valourcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.791 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T42 · seed 44: T42 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I'me no Gamester, Eustace, Yet I can guesse your resolution stands To winne or lose all; I rejoyce to finde ye Thus tender of your honour, and that at length You understand what a wretched thing you were, How deepely wounded by your selfe, and made Almost incureable, in your owne hopes The dead flesh of pale cowardise growing over Your festred reputation, which no balme Or gentle unguent ever could make way to, And I am happy, that I was the Surgeon, That did apply those burning corrosives That render you already sensible O th' danger you were plung'd in, teaching you, And by a faire gradation, how farre And with what curious respect and care The peace and credit of a man within, (Which you were thought till now) should be preferr'd Before a gawdy outside, pray you fixe here, For so farre I goe with you. This discourse Is from the subject. Ile come to it brother, But if you thinke to build upon my ruines, You'll finde a false foundation, your high offers Taught by the masters of dependancies, That by compounding differences 'tweene others Supply their owne necessities, with me Will never carry 't; As you are my brother, I would dispence a little, but no more Than honour can give way to; nor must I Destroy that in my selfe I love in you, And therefore let not hopes nor threats perswade you, I will descend to any composition, For which I may be censur'd. You shall fight then. With much unwillingnesse with you, but if There's no evasion— None. Heare yet a word, As for the sword and other fripperies, In a faire way send for them, you shall have 'em, But rather than surrender Angellina, Or heare it againe mention'd, I oppose My breast unto lowd thunder, cast behinde me All ties of Nature. She detein'd, I'me deafe To all perswasion. Guard thy selfe then Eustace, I use no other Rhetoricke. Clashing of swords So neere my house? brother oppos'd to brother! Here is no fencing at halfe-sword, hold, hold, Charles, Eustace. Second him, or call in more helpe, Come not betweene us, Ile not know nor spare you; D'ye fight by th' booke? Tis you that wrong me, off Sir, And suddenly Ile conjure downe the spirit That I have raised in him. Never Charles, Till thine, and in thy death, be doubled in me. I'me out of breath, yet trust not too much to't boyes, For if you pawse not suddenly, and heare reason. Doe, kill your Uncle, doe, but that I'me patient, And not a cholericke old teasty foole, Like your father, Ide daunce a matachin with you, Should make you sweat your best blood for't, I would, And it may be I will, Charles I command thee, And Eustace I entreat thee, th'art a brave Sparke, A true tough metal'd blade, and I beginne To love thee heartily, give me a fighting Courtier, Ile cherish him for example; in our age Th'are not borne every day.