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 0.84 · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Is this all? All the reward for losing of myself For thy sake? You're not yet quite lost What curse Made black the hour of my conception Farewell Hippolito, when you hear me dead Come to my grave, and drop one tear upon me What means Clariana? Oh Madam look behind me I see my Master coming in, and he Suspecting my haste this way, follows me With his sword drawn Are you so nimble? ha. Woman thou hast undone me. Oh my fortune again betrayed Nay then, I'll make sure work Alas what shall become of me, the doors are locked. Cruel dissembler. Hippolito the sequel shall acquit My thoughts, I'm circled with more certain danger And cannot hope life 'tis not that I fear To die, thou know'st I am not guilty Of any second shame, but my Eubella That every minute looks to be my bride How the thought rends me. I can prevent his fury Against thee There is no way Yes this. Ha devil what hast done? Alas what ha' you both done? I thank thee Thou hast spared my execution on myself I'll tell thee now Hippolito, by this This crimson in whose ebb my life hasts from me I did not look for Bellament, but Surprised I thought it honour to beg in The tragedy, I know my fate was not To be resisted, 'twas impossible. To find a second mercy from him, and I would secure no woman after me Should boast the Conquest of Hippolito Thy sword was gentle to me, searched again And thou shalt see. How my embracing blood will keep it warm And kiss the kind destroyer What are you humbled? must not serve your turn. We have deceived your triumph. Bellament. Hear me first, and know this bold hand saved Thy fury to Hippolito, whom with My last breath I pronounce not in a thought Guilty of new dishonour As soon persuade It is not day This letter summoned me I had no other means to speak with him And my unruly love did prompt me to it I tremble not in my innocence to think Of death but my Eubella, poor Eubella If she but loud thee as I did, she'll follow Furies will lend a torch to light her to The shades we go to Is the wickedness all thine? Except the wound my hasty sword Gave as reward for this too near my heart I fear Dost fear? For poor Eubella's sake Now thou hast met a justice in thy blood For thy first sin, but I will have a Surgeon Send for Eubella rather Oh let me breathe my last upon her lips It will concern thee Bellament somewhat The world will think this murder was thine else Make haste: O woman thou didst weep once, when thy tears Won my forgiveness, where are all the drops, The penitent showers, in which thy stained soul Should bathe itself, this minute launching forth To thy eternity.
nodes 1814–1896 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 32 of 33 in this edition
Length
502 words · 623 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.837 (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)
Is this all? All the reward for loosing of my selfe For thy sake? Y'are not yet quite lost What curse Made blacke the houre of my conception Farewell Hippolito, when you heare me dead Come to my grave, and drop one teare upon me What meanes Clariana? Oh Madam looke behind me I see my Master comming in, and he Suspecting my hast this way, followes me With his sword drawne Are you so nimble? ha. Woman thou hast undone me. Oh my fortune againe betraid Nay then, Ile make sure worke Alas what shall become of me, the doores are lockt. Cruell dessembler. Hippolito the sequell shall acquit My thoughts, Ime circled with more certaine danger And cannot hope life Tis not that I feare To dy, thou knowst I am not guilty Of any second shame, but my Eubella That every minute lookes to be my bride How the thought rends me. I can prevent his furie Against thee There is no way Yes this. Ha divell what hast done? Alas what ha you both done? I thanke thee Thou hast spar'd my execution on my selfe Ile tell thee now Hippolito, by this This crimson in whose ebbe my life hasts from me I did not looke for Bellamente, but Surprisd I thought it honor to beg in The tragedy, I know my fate was not To be resisted, twas impossible. To find a second mercy from him, and I would secure no woman after me Should boast the Conquest of Hippolito Thy sword was gentle to me, search't againe And thou shalt see. How my embracing blood will keepe it warme And kisse the kind destroyer What are you humbled? must not serve your turne. We have deceivd your triumph. Bellamente. Heare me first, and know this bold hand sa'd Thy fury to Hippolito, whom with My last breath I pronounce not in a thought Guilty of new dishonor As soone perswade It is not day This letter summond me I had no other meanes to speake with him And my unruly love did prompt me to it I tremble not in my innocence to thinke Of death but my Eubella, poore Eubella If she but lovd thee as I did, sheel'le follow Furies will lend a torch to light her to The shades we go to Is the wickednesse all thine? Except the wound my hasty sword Gave as reward for this too neere my heart I feare Dost feare? For poore Eubellas sake Now thou hast met a justice in thy blood For thy first sinne, but I will have a Surgeon Send for Eubella rather Oh let me breath my last upon her lips It will concerne thee Bellamente somewhat The world will think this murder was thine else Make hast: O woman thou didst weepe once, when thy teares Won my forgivenesse, where are all the drops, The penitent showers, in which thy stained soule Should bath it selfe, this minute lanching forth To thy eternity.