Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1640 (Annals) not in BritDrama · Ogilby's Men unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 524 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
If you will, Sir, revenge his death, you must Point your wrath here, and I will thank you for't; Though you should be a day in killing me, I should live so much longer to forgive you. This weak hand did not tremble when it killed him, And it came timely to prevent, I fear, The second part of horror he had meant To act upon me. would he had took my life, When he assailed thy chastity, so thou Hadst been preserved: I cannot help all this. Did it not grieve thee he deserved to die, hu? I took no joy, Sir, in his Tragedy. That done, thou fledst. I left my father's house, And found no weight hung on my feet for giving His lust the bloody recompense. Thou art happy: The gods directed thee to fly, Emeria, Thou hadst been lost else with my brother's ashes, And my dear mother, whom the hungry flames Devoured, soon after thy departure. How? I know not by what malice, or misfortune, Thy father's house was burned and in it he Did meet his funeral sire too, ha? Emeria. Your company's fair, but I'll leave you in a Wood, I could like your religion well; but those rules of fasting, prayer, and so much penance, will hardly sit my constitution. 'Tis nothing to win heaven. But you do not consider, that I shall lose my pension, my pension from the King, there's a business. Do not I leave more? I confess it; and you will get loss by the bargain; but you that have been used to hunger, and nothing to live upon, may make the better shift. The less you eat, you say, will make the soul fat; but I have a body won't be used so: I must drink, and go warm, and make much of my voice, I cannot do good upon water and salads, keep your diet- drink to yourselves, I am a kind of foolish Courtier, Patrick, with us, wine and women are provocatives, long tables and short graces are physical, and in fashion. I'll take my leave, Madam, no Christian yet, as the world goes; perhaps hereafter, when my voice is a weary of me, I may grow weary of the world, and stoop to your ordinary say my prayers, and think how to die, when my living is taken from me, in the mean time I neither will lend, nor borrow, Old age will be here tomorrow, ' This pleasure we are made for, When death comes all is paid for: No matter what's the bill of fare, I'll take my cup, I'll take no care. Be wise, and say you bad warning, To laugh is better than learning, To wear no clothes, not neat is. But hunger is good where meat ù: Gìve me wine, give me a wench, And let her Parrot talk in French. It is a match worth the making, To keep the merry thought waking; A song is better than fasting, And sorrow's not worth the tasting, Then keep your brain light as you can, An ounce of care will kill a man.
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)
If you will, Sir, revenge his death, you must Point your wrath here, and I will thank you for't; Though you should be a day in killing me, I should live so much longer to forgive you. This weake hand did not tremble when it kill'd him, And it came timely to prevent, I feare, The second part of horrour he had meant To act upon me. Wo'd he had tooke my life, When he assail'd thy chastitie, so thou Hadst been preserv'd: I cannot help all this. Did it not grieve thee he deserv'd to dye, hu? I took no joy, Sir, in his Tragedie. That done, thou sledst. I left my fathers house, And found no weight hung on my feet for giving His lust the bloudy recompence. Thou ar happie: The gods directed thee to fly, Emeria, Thou hadst beene lost else with my brothers ashes, And my deare mother, whom the hungry slames Devour'd, soone after thy departure. How? I know not by what malice, or mis-fortune, Thy fathers house was burn'd and in it he Did meet his funerall sire too, ha? Emeria. Your companie's faire, but I'll leave you in a Wood, I could like your religion well; but those rules of sasting, prayer, and so much penance, will hardly sit my constitution. 'Tis nothing to win heaven. But you doe not consider, that I shall loose my pension, my pension from the King▪ there's a businesse. Do not I leave more? I confesse it; and you will get losse by the bargaine; but you that have been used to hunger, and nothing to live upon, may make the better shift. The lesse you at, you say, will make the soule fat; but I have body wonot be used so: I must drinke, and goe warme, and make much of my voyce, I cannot doe good upon water and sallads, keep your -drinke to your selves, I am a kind of foolish , Pick, with us, wine and women are provocatives, long tables▪ and short graces are physicall, and in fashion. I'll take my leave▪ Madam, no Christian yet, as the world goes; perhaps hereafter, when my voyce is a wearie of mee, I may grow wearie of the world, and stoop to your ord▪naie, say my prayers, and think how to dye, when my living is taken from me, in the meane time I neither will lend, nor borrow, Old age will be here to morrow, 'This pleasure we are made for, When death comes all is paid for: No matter what's the bill of fare, I'll take my cup, I'll take no care. Be wise, and say you bad warning, To laugh is better than learning, To weare no cloathes, not neat is. But hunger is good where meat ù: Gìve me wine, give me a wench, And let her Parrot talke in French. It is a match worth the making, To keepe the merrie thought waking; A song is better than fasting, And sorrow's not worth the tasting, Then keepe your braine light as you can, An ounce of care will kill a man.