Shirley, James · published 1637 · first performed or written 1633 [licensed for stage, Nov 11] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Let him call me to account, the reckonings paid. Come Dwindle. I did not think the fool durst ha' done this, 'tis a strange youth. You shall hear more tomorrow. All's paid, and you are welcome gentlemen. Why should not we two live together, being So equal in our passions? oh Violante, Our knowledge grew from children, and our love's Ally us in our natures. 'tis my wish To dwell with thee, I never knew that woman In whom I took more pleasure to converse with, But I have a father, and remembering him A sorrow steals upon me, to betray My hopes of blessing; for although he love me, And dear as he says, for Children must not Dispute with fathers, he affects not him In whom I place all thoughts that can delight me, He loves not Delamore, and what to me Is all the World without him? I shall never I fear, have his consent to be made happy In marriage, and this, although our thoughts Reflect with equal honour on our lovers, Makes the distinction, and concludes me miserable, Thy will depends upon no rigid parent, Thy path is strewed with Roses, while I climb A ragged cliff, to meet whom I affect. Indeed, Leonara I much pity thee. I prithee counsel me how shall I wrestle With my sad destiny, and yet preserve My filial obedience, I must lose A father, or a husband. Would I knew Which way to bid thee steer, but lessoned by My own affection, I would have thy mind Constant to him thou lov'st, time may correct A father's harshness, and be confident If poor Violante have a power to serve thee, She will forget her own heart, ere prove false to thee. Oh my dear soul, I know't. Oh mistress. What's the matter! This face betrays some miserable accident. Speak, and assure us, what disaster makes Thy countenance so wild. A friend of yours— Is sick, is dead, what more? and yet I have So few, I can spare none. Is dead, since you appear so fortified. Is my father living, and Delamore? Your father is in health, but— Stay, as thou wouldst preserve thy mistress in The number of the living. How my fears increase! Except Violante, whom I see Enjoys her health, I have no friend but Delamore, I hope he is not dead. Your Delamore is dead. Friend, Leonora, 'Twas indiscreetly done to open sorrow So like a torrent, Leonora; friend. Why dost thou call me from him? sure I was Going to meet my Delamore. Give not such Belief to these sad news, until you hear it Confirmed, dist see him dead? I did not see him. Have comfort then, this may be checked again. Would I could hope it. Have more courage friend, Didst hear the circumstance? He was slain they say. Nay then believe it not, he was so innocent, He could provoke no angry sword against him.
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)
Let him call me to account, the recknings paid. Come Dwindle. I did not thinke the foole durst ha done this, Tis a strange youth. You shall heare more to morrow. All's paid, and you are welcome gentlemen. Why should not we two live together, being So equall in our passions? oh Violante, Our knowledge grew from children, and our loves Allie us in our natures. Tis▪ my wish To dwell with thee, I never knew that woman In whom I tooke more pleasure to converse with, But I have a father, and remembring him A sorrow steales upon me, to betraie My hopes of blessing; for although hee love me, And deerelie as he sayes, for Children must not Dispute with fathers, he affects not him In whom I place all thoughts that can delight me, He loves not Delamore, and what to me Is all the World without him? I shall never I feare, have his consent to be made happie In marriage, and this, although our thoughts Reflect with equall honor on our lovers, Makes the distinction, and concludes me miserable, Thy will depends upon no riged parent, Thy path is strew'd with Roses, while I clime A ragged cliffe, to meete whom I affect. Indeede, Leonara I much pitie thee. I prethee counsell me how shall I wrastle With my sad destinie, and yet preserve My filiall obedience, I must loose A father, or a husband. Would I knew Which way to bid thee steere, but lesson'd by My owne affection, I would have thy minde Constant to him thou loust, time may correct A fathers harshnes, and be confident If poore Violante have a power to serve thee, She will forget her owne heart, ere prove false to thee. Oh my deare soule, I know't. Oh mistresse. What's the matter! This face betraies some miserable accident. Speake, and assure us, what disaster makes Thy countenance so wilde. A friend of yours— Is sicke, is dead, what more? and yet I have So few, I can spare none. Is dead, sinee you appeare so fortified. Is my father living, and Delamore? Your father is in health, but— Staie, as thou wouldst preserve thy mistresse in The number of the living. How my feares increase! Except Violante, whom I see Enjoyes her health, I have no friend but Delamore, I hope hee is not dead. Your Delamore is dead. Friend, Leonora, 'Twas indiscreetlie done to open sorrow So like a torrent, Leonora; friend. Why dost thou call me from him? sure I was Going to meete my Delamore. Give not such Beleefe to these sad newes, untill you heare it Confirm'd, dist see him dead? I did not see him. Have comfort then, this may Bee check'd againe. Would I could hope it. Have more courage friend, Didst heare the circumstance? He was slaine they say. Nay then beleeve it not, he was so innocent, He could provoke no angrie sword against him.