Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1640 (Annals) not in BritDrama · Ogilby's Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.76 · 500 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
It does not alter him, he rather looks With fresher blood upon him. 'Tis my wonder, I did not trust another to prepare his cup. Come, 'tis not poison, we are abused. Upon my life. The King is troubled. Prepare another. It shall be done. Come hither sirrah, you brought this wine. I did, Sir. And you shall taste it. Would I were but worthy. I will have it so. Come, drink our health. May I remember your good Queens. And he had the constitution of an Elephant 'Twould pay him. How cheer you, Sir. Well, Madam; but I observe Distractions in the King. Nay, drink it off. And it were as deep as the root of Penmenmaure, my royal Love should have it. Now we shall try the ingredients, it stirred Not him, has he done't? So. Yes, and the change begins to show already. Hoy ho— what's that? Where? Hre, here abouts, was the wine burnt? oh there's wilde the wine. It works on him. There's squibs and crackers in my stomach; am not I poisoned? Poisoned? we shall want a fool then. A way, I'll never drink again. Not often, and thou be'st poisoned. It increases, my royal love has poisoned me, her health has blown my bowels up. Oh a cooler, would I were a while in the frozen sea, charity is not cold enough to relieve me: the devil is making fireworks in my belly. Ha the Queen, let me but speak to the Queen; Oh Madam, little do you think, that I have poisoned myself, Oh for your sweet sake. But howsoever; Oh think upon me when I am dead. I bequeath my heart, Oh there 'tis already: my royal love farewell. What think you now? it hath dispatched him raving. Madam, you show a pious heart, I find My death was meant; but 'tis heaven's goodness I should not fall by poison: do not lose Your charity. he's dead. Pray let me see the fellow. It affrights me, this was some treason meant to us; And thee good man: How I am innocent. How soon death would devour him. Past your cure. That power we serve can call back life, and see, He has a little motion. He breathes too, nay then he may live to have th'other cup: Madam, this Patrick is a rare physician, if he stay with us, we'll make us all immortal. Alive again? Oh let me honour thee. We cannot Sir enough; Receive me Patrick, A weak disciple to thee: my soul bids me Embrace thy faith: Make me a Christian. How? did didst thou hear Archimagus, let some Convey our Queen hence, her weak conscience melts; she'll be a Christian she says: I hate her, And do confine her to the house of Milcho Our zealous Provost. 'tis the king's pleasure Madam, I should attend you hence. Where the King please. In any prison Madam, I dare visit you; Be comforted, they do but fight with heaven.
nodes 936–999 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 15 of 34 in this edition
Length
500 words · 682 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.764 (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 does not alter him, he rather lookes With frsher bloud upon him. 'Tis my wonder, I did not trust another to prepare his cup. Come, 'tis not poyson, we are abus'd. Upon my life. The King is troubled. Prepare another. It shall be done. Come hither sirra, you brought this wine. I did, Sir. And you shall taste it. Would I were but worthy. I will have it so. Come, drink our health. May I remember your good Queenes. And he had the constitution of an Elephant 'Twould pay him. How cheere you, Sir. Well, Madam; but I observe Distractions in the King. Nay, drink it off. And it were as deep as the root of Penmenmaure, my royall Love should have it. Now we shall try the ingredients, it stirr'd Not him, has he done't? So. Yes, and the change begins to shew already. Hoy ho—what's that? Where? Hre, here abouts, was the wine burnt? oh there's wilde the wine. It workes on him. There's squibs and crackers in my stomacke; am not I poyson'd? Poyso'd? we shall want a foole then. A way, I'll never drink agen. Not often, and thou beest poyson'd. It increases, my royall love has poison'd me, her health has blowne my bowells up. Oh a cooler, would I were a while in the frozen sea, charity is not cold enough to releeive me: the devill is making fireworkes in my belly. Ha the Queene, let me but speake to the Queene; Oh Madam, little do you think, that I have poyson'd my self, Oh for your sweete sake. But howsoever; Oh think upon me when I am dead. I bequeath my heart, Oh there 'tis already: my royall love farewell. What thinke you now? it hath dispatch'd him raving. Madam, you shew a pious heart, I finde My death was meant; but 'tis heavens goodnesse I should not fall by poyson: do not loose Your charity. Hee's dead. Pray lt me see the fellow. It affrights me, this was some treason meant to us; And thee good man: How I am innocent. How soone death would devoure him. Past your cure. That power we serve can call back life, and see, He has a little motion. He breathes too, ny then he may live to have th'other cup: Madam, this Patrick is a rare physition, if he sty with us, ee'l all immortall. Alive agen? Oh let me honour thee. We cannot Sir enough; Receive me Patrick, A weake disciple to thee: my soule bids me Embrace thy faith: Make me a Christian. How? did thou heare Archimagus, let some Convey our Queene hence, her weak conscience melts; Shee'l be a Christian she sayes: I hate her, And do confine her to the house of Milcho Our zealous Provost. Tis the Kings pleasure Madam, I should attend you hence. Where the King please. In any prison Madam, I dare visit you; Be comforted, they do but fight with heaven.