Shirley, James · published 1639 · first performed or written 1626 [licensed for stage, Feb 9] (Annals) tragedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.78 · 513 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Nature doth wrestle with me, but revenge Doth arm my love against it, justice is Above all tie of blood Sebastiano Thou art the first shalt tell Antonio's ghost How much I loved him. Oh stay thy hand Berinthia? no thoust done't, I wish thee heavens forgiveness, I cannot Tarry to hear thy reasons, at many doors, My life runs out, and yet Berinthia Doth in her name give me more wounds than these, Antonio, oh Antonio, we shall now Be friends again. he's dead, and yet I live, but not to fall Less than a constellation, more flames must Make up the fire that Berinthia And her revenge, must bathe in. Sebastiano, sister. murder. There's wildfire in my bowels, sure I am poisoned; Oh Berinthia. Ha, ha. Help me to tear Ansilva, I am poisoned by The Count and this fury. Ha, ha. Do you laugh hereat. Yes queen of hell to see thee Sink in the glory of thy hope for bliss: But art sure th' art poisoned, ha? Nay I have my part on't, I did but sip, and my belly Swells too; call you this love-powder, Count Monte Nigro hath poisoned us both. You're a pair of witches, and because I'll keep your potion working, know you're both Poisoned by me, by me Berinthia, Being thus tormented with my wrongs, I armed myself with all provision For my revenge, and had in readiness That faithful poison which i'th' opportunity I put upon Ansilva for the exchange Of the amorous powder; oh fools, my soul Ravish thyself with laughter, politsion My eldest devil sister, does the heat Offend your stomach, troth charity, a little charity Th'only Antidote, that's cold enough: Look here's Sebastiano; Now horror strike thy soul, to whose fearless heart I sent this poniard, for Antonio's death; And if that piece of thy damnation Ansilva had not done't, I meant to have writ Revenge with the same point upon thy breast; But I do surfeit in this brave prevention: Sleep, sleep Antonio's ashes, and now open Thou marble chest to take Berinthia To mingle with his dust. I have not so much heart as to curse, must I die? Here my Lord, alas he's dead, my Sebastiano Catalina. I am poisoned. Ha, Defend good heaven, by whom. I am poisoned too. Rack not my soul amazement, 'tis a dream sure. Your Love-powder hath poisoned us both. What will become of me now, I would I were hanged To be out of my pain, by this flesh, as I am a Count. I bought it of the Doctor for good love-powder; But Madam I hope you are not poisoned in earnest. The devil on your foolship, oh I must walk The dark foggy way that spits fire and brimstone, No physic to restore me? send for Sharkino, a cooler A cooler, there's a smith's forge in my belly, and the Devil blows the Bellows, Snow-water, Berinthia Has poisoned me, sink by mine own engine; I must hence, hence, farewell, will you let me die so? Confusion, torment, death, hell.
nodes 1987–2060 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 34 of 35 in this edition
Length
513 words · 714 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.776 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Nature doth wrestle with me, but revenge Doth arme my love against it, justice is Above all tie of blood Sebastiano Thou art the first shalt tell Antonioes ghost How much I lov'd him. Oh stay thy hand Berinthia? no Th'ast don't, I wish thee heavens forgivenesse, I cannot Tarry to heare thy reasons, at many doores, My life runnes out, and yet Berinthia Doth in her name give me more wounds then these, Antonio, oh Antonio, we shall now Be friendes againe. Hees dead, and yet I live, but not to fall Lesse then a conftellation, more flames must Make up the fire that Berinthia And her revenge, must bathe in. Sebastiano, sister. murder. Theres wild-fire in my bowells, sure I am poysoned; Oh Berinthia. Ha, ha. Helpe me to teare Ansilva, I am poysoned by The Count and this fury. Ha, ha. Doe you laugh hereat. Yes queene of hell to see thee Sinke in the glory of thy hope for blisse: But art sure th' art poysoned, ha? Nay I have my part on't, I did but sip, and my belly Swelleto ; call you this love-powder, Count Monte Nigro hath poysoned us both. Y'are a paire of witches, and because Ile keepe your potion working, know y'are both Poyson'd by me, by me Berinthia, Being thus tormented with my wrongs, I arm'd my selfe with all provision For my revenge, and had in readinesse That faithfull poyson which ith' opportunity I put upon Ansilva for the exchange Of the amorous powder; oh fooles, my soule Ravish thy selfe with laughter, politsion My eldest divell sister, does the heate Offend your stomacke, troth charity, a little charitie Th'onely Antidote, thats cold enough: Looke heres Sebastiano; Now horrour strike thy soule, to whose fearelesse heart I sent this punyard, for Antonioes death; And if that peece of thy damnation Ansilva had not don't, I meant to have writ Revenge with the same point upon thy breast; But I doe surfeit in this brave prevention: Sleepe, sleepe Antonioes ashes, and now ope Thou marbell chest to take Berinthia To mingle with his dust. I have not so much heart as to curse, must I die? Here my Lord, alas hees dead, my Sebastiano Catalina. I am poyson'd. Ha, Defend good heaven, by whom. I am poysoned too. Racke not my soule amazement, tis a dreame sure. Your Love-powder hath poysoned us both. What will become of me now, I would I were hang'd To be out of my paine, by this flesh, as I am a Count. I bought it of the Doctor for good love-powder; But Madam I hope you are not poysoned in earnest. The devill on your fooleship, oh I must walke The darke foggy way that spits fire and brimstone, No physicke to restore me? send for Sharkino, a cooler A cooler, there a Smiths forge in my belly, and the Devill blowes the Bellowes, Snow-water, Berinthia Has poysoned me, sinke by mine owne engine; I must hence, hence, farewell, will you let me die so? Confusion, torment, death, hell.