Berkeley, William · published 1638 · first performed or written 1637 [1637-1638] (Annals) not in BritDrama T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.87 · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
It hath not light enough to let you see your friend. Gods! Could that man have lived, that dared to say, Eugenio did suspect his Lysicles? And now in pity you do show him me, That I may fly the world without regreet, Not leaving one of worth behind me in it. begone, and learn your errors. I have done't already: they were trusting you With my life's happiness: draw, and restore the vows You made Hermione, or I will leave you dead, And tear them from your heart. Fond man, thou dost not know how much 'tis in My power to make thee miserable: I could now force thee execute my wish In killing me; and thou wouldst fly the light, When it had showed thee whom thy rage offended: But till I fall by my own hand, my life Is chained unto my honour, which I will wear Upon my Sepulchre: nor must I die, Being guilty of Milesia's murder, For any cause but hers, else were my breast, Since you have wronged me, open to your point. Can you deny but that you have attempted The faith of my Hermione? I can, with so strong circumstance of truth Would make you blush for have doubted mine; But he that was my friend, and suspects me, Must attend less satisfaction than a stranger. Proceed, and let your case be both your judge and guide. What should I do? I dare not trust my sense, If he should tell me that it does deceive me: Virtue itself would lose her quality ere he forsook her, and his words do fall Distorted from him; his soul doth labour Under some heavy burden, which my passion Did hinder me from seeing. Sir forgive, Or take your full revenge; let your own griefs Teach you to pity those are distracted with it: I will not rise until you pardon me. Oh my Eugenio, thy kindness hath undone me, My rage did choke my grief, which now did spread itself over my soul and body: up, and help To bear me till I fall eternally. Who can hear this, and not be turned to Marble? Good Sir impart your sorrows, I may bring comfort. Whilst they were capable thou didst, but now They are too great and swollen to let it in. Milesia, Whom you and I supposed dead, By me today is poisoned, and lies dying in her torment; Is not this strange? What have you said that is not? But heaven avert this last. It is too late now; let me beg thy kindness Would do that for me, I forbade thy passion. What is't? Kill me. You cannot wish me such an hated office: Call up your reasons and your courage to you, Which was not given you only for the wars, But to resist the batteries of Fortune. People will say, that Lysicles did want Part of that courage Fame did speak him Lord of, When they shall hear him sunk below her succour.
nodes 2270–2332 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 37 of 42 in this edition
Length
505 words · 623 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.869 (cosine to the topic centroid)
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)
It hath not light enough to let you see your friend. Gods! Could that man have liv'd, that dar'd to say, Eugenio did suspect his Lysicles? And now in pittie you doe shew him mee, That I may flie the world without regreet, Not leaving one of worth behinde me in it. Begon, and learne your errours. I have don't alreadie: they were trusting you VVith my lifes happinesse: draw, and restore the vowes You made Hermione, or I will leave you dead, And teare them from your heart. Fond man, thou dost not know how much 'tis in My power to make thee miserable: I could now force thee execute my wish In killing mee; and thou wouldst flie the light, VVhen it had shewd thee whom thy rage offended: But till I fall by my owne hand, my life Is chain'd unto my honour, which I will weare Upon my Sepulchre: nor must I die, Being guilty of Milesia's murther, For any cause but hers, else were my breast, Since you have wrong'd me, open to your poynt. Can you denie but that you have attempted The faith of my Hermione? I can, with so strong circumstance of truth VVould make you blush for have doubted mine; But he that was my friend, and suspects me, Must attend lesse satisfaction than a stranger. Proceede, and let your case be both your judge and guide. What should I doe? I dare not trust my sence, If he should tell me that it does deceive me: Vertue it selfe would lose her qualitie E're he forsooke her, and his words doe fall Distorted from him; his soule doth labour Vnder some heavy burthen, which my passion Did hinder me from seeing. Sir forgive, Or take your full revenge; let your owne griefes Teach you to pitty those are distract with it: I will not rise untill you pardon me. Oh my Eugenio, thy kindnesse hath undone me, My rage did choake my griefe, which now did spread It selfe over my soule and body: up, and helpe To beare me till I fall eternally. Who can heare this, and not be turn'd to Marble? Good Sir impart your sorrowes, I may bring comfort. Whilst they were capable thou didst, but now They are too great and swolne to let it in. Milesia, Whom you and J supposed dead, By me to day is poison'd, and lies dying in her torment; Is not this strange? VVhat have you said that is not? But heaven avert this last. It is too late now; let me beg thy kindnesse VVould doe that for me, J forbad thy passion. VVhat is't? Kill me. You cannot wish me such an hated office: Call up your reasons and your courage to you, VVhich was not given you onely for the warres, But to resist the batteries of Fortune. People will say, that Lysicles did want Part of that courage Fame did speake him Lord of, VVhen they shall heare him sunke below her succour.