Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1631 [licensed for stage, Nov 14] (Annals) tragedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.79 · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Treacherous serpent With this I have sometime relieved your valour And had no pity of my blood, but then I was a friend, in such a cause as this I have no arm no weapon, not, if I Were sure the bullet would decline my heart. It does beget a cowardice to think How I am fall'n. O pardon Pardon with what conscience canst thou ask it? You showed a charity above my hope By giving a few minutes for my prayer, Which shows you had no meaning to destroy The soul, 'twas Rare compassion, but if you Could possibly forgive? How forgive I say if it were possible you could Remit so foul (in me the black'st) offence Not for the love I have to number days But by some noble service, to wash off This shame, this leprosy upon my name ha' you found it now. I have but vainly interrupt your fury You cannot must not pardon it, such mercy Becomes not an Italian. Miserable woman. O sir, it was my first offence, what woman is Without some stain? if all that in this kind Have sinned, had met with present death you would Not find some names, that now shine gloriously Within the catalogue of Saints, my soul Is full of shame and tears. Tell me Clariana, Still I shall hit upon thy name, how couldst thou Use me so cruelly? did I want youth And spring about me were my embraces cold Frost in my blood? or in thy bed was I Conveyed a snowball, rolled up the children Do to play with winter, did I not affect thee Beyond all the comfort of the world? I know it. And thou whom best of all mankind I loved Whose friendship took up my whole heart till she Came in a wife, yet then thou hadst a seat One small degree below her, when this shall be The talk of Ferrara who shall trust his friend For thy sake, or at the mention of thy name For swear ever to marry Noble sir. It is within your power To kill you both I am prepared so well As this short time will give me leave. 'tis yet within your power to silence all, What is already done should we turn fountains We heartily may grieve for, not repair, The world can have no knowledge of our trespass Nor your dishonour, If you call it so Unless you tell it, you have nobly sir Secured all shame at home, which has won more Repentance from me than my tears, go on Increase that piety, and be not you The trumpet of their infamy abroad Whose lives hereafter may be spent with such Religious sorrow for offending you That you may not repent to have forgiven. Shall I be won with foolish pity? Our death will gain you nothing, but the fear You sha'not keep your own life
nodes 1239–1307 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 23 of 33 in this edition
Length
490 words · 590 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.788 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
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)
Treacherous serpent With this I have sometime releeud your valour And had no pitty of my blood, but then I was a friend, in such a cause as this I have no arme no weapon, not, if I Were sure the bullet would dceline my heart. It does beget a cowardise to thinke How I am falne. O pardon Pardon with what conscience canst thou aske it? You shewed a charity above my hope By giving a few minutes for my prayer, Which shewes you had no meaning to destroy The soule, twas Rare compassion, but if you Could possibly forgive? How forgive I say if it were possible you could Remitt so foule (in me the blakst) offence Not for the love I have to number dayes But by some noble service, to wash off This shame, this leprosie upon my name Ha you found it now. I have but vainely interrupt your fury You cannot must not pardon it, such mercie Becomes not an Italian. Miserable woman. O sir, it was my first offence, what woman is Without some staine? if all that in this kind Have sinn'd, had met with present death you would Not find some names, that now shine gloriously Within the catalogue of Saints, my soule Is full of shame and teares. Tel me Clariana ▪ Still I shall hit upon thy name, how couldst thou Vse me so cruelly? did I want youth And spring about me were my embraces cold Frost in my blood? or in thy bed was I Conueyd a snowball, rould up the children Do to play with winter, did I not affect thee Beyond all the comfort of the world? I know it. And thou whom best of all mankind I lov'd Whose friendship tooke up my whole heart till she Came in a wife, yet then thou hadst a seate One small degree below her, when this shall be The talke of Ferrara who shall trust his friend For thy sake, or at the mention of thy name For sweare ever to marry Noble sir. It is within your power To kill you both I am prepared so well As this short time will give me leave. Tis yet within your power to silence all, What is already done should we turne fountaines We heartily may grieve for, not repaire, The world can have no knowledge of our trespasse Nor your dishonor, If you call it so Vnlesse you tell it, you have nobly sir Secur'd all shame at home, which has won more Repentance from me then my teares, go on Increase that piety, and be not you The trumpet of their infamy abroad Whose lives hereafter may be spent with such Religious sorrow for offending you That you may not repent to have forgiven. Shall I be wonne with foolish pitty? Our death will gaine you nothing, but the feare You shannot keepe your owne life