Dekker, Thomas / Middleton, Thomas · published 1639 · first performed or written 1639 [c.1617-1639] (Annals) tragedy · Queen Anne's Men (?) unassigned nearest T26 Devils, hell and fiends · 504 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T26: devil, hell, devils, sure, soul, fiend, sr, wife, lord, men.
Torture me not, I prithee, I am that wretch; a villain I was once; but I am now— The Devil in the Vault; you sirrah, that betrayed your Country, and the old King your Uncle, there lie till one Wolf devour another, thou treacherous rascal. Oh me most miserable and wretched creature! I now do find there's a revenging fate That dooms bad men to be unfortunate. We are observed. By whom? Mazeres follows us. Oh he's my protested servant, your sole Rival. The devil he is. You'll make a hot suitor of him anon? He may be hot in th' end, his good parts sue for't, He eyes us still. He does, you shall depart Lady; I'll take my leave on purpose in his presence, He's jealous, and a kiss runs through his heart, I'll make a thrust at him on your lip. Death! minute favours? every step a kiss? I think they count how the day goes by kissing, 'tis past four since I met them. I have hit him in the Call in stead of th' blood, He sheds distractions, which are worse than wounds. But sirrah! Stays he to prove my Rival? cursed be th' hour Wherein I advised the King for his stay here, I have set slaves t' entrap him, yet none prosper, I'll lay no more my faith upon their works Th' are weak and loose, and like a rotten wall, Leaning on them may hazard my own fall. I'll use a swifter course, cut off long journeys, And tedious ways that run my hopes past breath, I'll take the plain road way and hunt his death. So so, he departs with a knit brow, no matter; When his frown begets earthquakes, haply then 'Twill shake me too: I shall stand firm till then. Mass here a walks; I am far enough from myself, I challenge all disguises except drinking To hide me better; I give way to that, For that indeed will thrust a white gentleman Into a suit of mud, but whist I begin to be noted. ay, he changed upon't. I marked him. Good your honours, your most comfortable charitable relief And devotion to a poor star crossed Gentleman. Pox on thee. I'm bare enough already if it like your honour. He did! Pox on thee? your young gallants love to give no Alms. But that that will stick by a man, that's one virtue in them: He's not content to have my hat off, but he would have my hair off too. Thank your good Lordship. No! was that his Action! It called him Lord. Nay he's a Villain. Good your honours! I have been a man in my time. Why what art thou now? Kept goodly beasts, had 3. wives, 2. men uprising, 3. maids down lying; oh good your kind honours. 'sfoot, I am a beggar myself. Perhaps your Lordship gets by it; Good your sweet honour! This fellow would be whipped. Your Lordship has forgot since you were a Beggar.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T23 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Torture me not, I prithee, I am that wretch; a villaine I was once; but I am now — The Devill in the Vault; you sirra, that betrayd your Countrey, and the old King your Vncle, there lye till one Wolfe devoure another, thou trecherous rascall. Oh me most miserable and wretched creature! I now doe finde there's a revenging fate That doomes bad men to be unfortunate. We are observ'd. By whom? Mazeres followes us. Oh he's my protested servant, your sole Rivall. The devill he is. You'le makē a hot Suitour of him anon? He may be hot in th' end, his good parts sue for't, He eyes us still. He does, you shall depart Lady; Ile take my leave on purpose in his presence, He's jealous, and a kisse runnes through his heart, Ile make a thrust at him on your lip. Death! minute favours? every step a kisse? I thinke they count how the day goes by kissing, Tis past foure since I met them. I have hit him in the Call in stead of th' blood, He sheds distractions, which are worse than wounds. But sirra! Stayes he to proove my Rivall? curs'd be th' hourē Wherein I advis'd the King for his stay here, I have set slaves t' entrap him, yet none prosper, Ile lay no more my faith upon their workes Th' are weake and loose, and like a rotten wall, Leaning on them may hazard my owne fall. Ile use a swifter course, cut off long journeys, And tedious wayes that runne my hopes past breath, Ile take the plaine roadē way and hunt his death. So so, he departs with a knit brow, no matter; When his frowne begets earthquakes, happly then 'Twill shake me too: I shall stand firme till then. Masse here a walkes; I am far enough from my selfe, I challenge all disguises except drinking To hide me better; I give way to that, For that indeed will thrust a white gentlēman Into a suite of mud, but whist I begin to be noted. I, he chang'd upon't. I mark'd him. Good your honours, your most comfortable charitable releefe And devotion to a poore starre crost Gentleman. Pox on thee. Ime bare enough already if it like your honour. He did! Pox on thee? your yong gallants love to give no Almes▪ But that that will sticke by a man, that's one vertue in them: He's not content to have my hat off, but he would have my hayre off too. Thanke your good Lordship. No! was that his Action! It cal'd him Lord. Nay he's a Villaine. Good your honours! I have beene a man in my time. Why what art thou now? Kept goodly beasts, had 3. wives, 2. men uprising, 3. maides downe lying; oh good your kind honours. Sfoote, I am a begger my selfe. Perhaps your Lordship gets by it; Good your sweete honour▪ This fellow would be whipt. Your Lordship has forgot since you were a Begger.