Shirley, James · published 1637 · first performed or written 1634 [licensed for stage, Jun 24] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 513 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
That died, and gave thee A swelling legacy, and thou hast made This use on't to release thy desperate land, Buy thee a carcanet, and this proud blaze Of other Jewels. If you please to hear me, I must declare, these are the bounty of A living friend. Living? A Gentleman— A Gentleman? forbear I am not well. One you are bound to honour. thou'st undone me, Do not, do not name him, I know, and feel too much. Believe me, sir, My story's full of innocence, and when You have more knowledge of this friend, you'll quit Your fears, and call him to your heart. My heart Is very busy, yet you may tell me His name, to whose strange bounty I am so obliged. More to his virtue, though his title Carry the shine of honour, he has a soul More glorious; have patience but to hear me, You will confess it, and reward his piety With praise above a man, and be in love With him yourself. In Love— The Lord Fitzavarice. Ha? the wanton Lord Fitzavarice. Thou most undone of women, did my absence So forfeit me, or ebb of wealth corrupt Thy giddy soul, thou couldst imagine, I Would thank thy lust to piece up my wild ruins? Transform me gentle Heaven, For if I be a man, and hold the knowledge Of this dishonour, I shall do an act Equal to this, and murder this false woman. Have I thought life not tedious for thy sake, And in my poverty summed up wealth enough But in my hopes to see thee, were my winters Not cold, when I but thought I had Bellamia, Were all the toils, and troubles of my spring, Not valued for this harvest? curse upon Thy Salary, were it a price to buy All Kingdoms, that the Sun e'er shed a beam on, Earned from thy Body's infamy, I'd choose To live i'th' galley first, and chained toth' oar, Give up my breath through torture. I'll to prison, And welcome all the stings, that want of liberty, Disease, and famine, can let fall upon me, And call thee yet more killing than all they, Till my hard Creditors forgive me in pity, And curse thee into all I have suffered, Wives shall accuse thy perjury, whose act Is able to make all the truth suspected, And Virgins frighted at thy name, resolve Never to marry, while the race of men Curse thee, for whom they ne'er shall spring again. But I let passion fool me, and my tameness May prompt thee to more sin, I'll be revenged; But first on him, that grafted shame upon me: It shall be thy first punishment, to see Him bleeding, where is he? come what fine conveyances To keep your Goat close, till time play the bawd, And secure all your ruttings? I must find him, Appear then stain to honour, Lordly devil: Where art? Fitzavarice? Fitzavarice! Whose reeking squire are you sir, ha my Lords? Show me straight where this Fox doth Earth himself, Or I'll—
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)
That died, and gave thee A swelling legacie, and thou hast made This use on't to release thy desperate land, Buy thee a Carkanet, and this proud blaze Of other Jewells. If you please to heare mee, I must declare, these are the bounty of A living friend. Living? A Gentleman— A Gentleman? forbeare I am not well. One you are bound to honour. Tha'st undone me, Doe not, do not name him, I know, and feele too much. Beleeve me, sir, My storie's full of innocence, and when You have more knowledge of this friend, you'le quit Your feares, and call him to your hart. My hart▪ Is very busie, yet you may tell mee His name, to whose strange bounty I am so oblig'd. More to his virtue, though his title Carrie the shine of honor, he has a soule More glorious; have patience but to heare mee, You will confesse it, and reward his pietie With praise above a man, and be in love With him your selfe. In Love— The Lord Fitzavarice. Ha? the wanton Lord Fitzavarice. Thou most undone of women, did my absence So forfit me, or ebbe of wealth corrupt Thy giddie soule, thou couldst imagine, I Would thanke thy lust to peece up my wild ruines? Transforme mee gentle Heaven, For if I be a man, and hold the knowledge Of this dishonour, I shall doe an act Equall to this, and murder this false woman. Have I thought life not tedious for thy sake, And in my povertie summ'd up wealth enough But in my hopes to see thee, were my winters Not cold, when I but thought I had Bellamia, Were all the toyles, and troubles of my spring, Not valued for this harvest? curse upon Thy Salarie, were it a price to buy All Kingdoms, that the Sunne e're shed a beame on, Earn'd from thy bodies infamie, I'de choose To live i'th galley first, and chain'd to'th oare, Give up my breath through torture. I'le to prison, And wellcome all the stings, that want of libertie, Disease, and famine, can let fall upon mee, And call thee yet more killing then all they, Till my hard Creditors forgive mee in pitty, And curse thee into all I have suffer'd, Wives shall accuse thy periurie, whose act Is able to make all the truth suspected, And Virgins frighted at thy name, resolve Never to marrie, while the race of men Curse thee, for whom they nere shall spring agen. But I let passion foole mee, and my tamenesse May prompt thee to more sinne, I'le bee reveng'd; But first on him, that grafted shame upon mee: It shall bee thy first punishment, to see Him bleeding, where is he? come what fine conveiances To keepe your Goate close, till time play the baud, And secure all your ruttings? I must finde him, Appeare then staine to honor, Lordly divell: Where art? Fitzavarice? Fitzavarice! Whose reeking squire are you sir, ha my Lords? Shew mee strait where this Fox doth Earth himselfe, Or I'le—