Whetstone, George · published 1578 · first performed or written 1578 [1576-1579] (Annals) comedy · Unacted unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
How now Grimball? O Leard, my Purse is cut. When? where? Now, here. Boy, let the door be shut, If it be here, we will strait ways see, Where's he, that came with you? I can not tell. What is he? I know not. Where doth he devil? O Leard, I ken not I You have done well. This knave, your pence, in his pocket hath pursed: Let's seek him out. Nay hark, I must needs first: O Learde, Learde, cham sick, my belly aches, too, too: Thou look'st ill: well, I'll tell thee what to do. Since thou art so sick, strait ways, get thee home, To find this Iacke, myself abroad will roam. The rather, for that he played the knave with me, Chamsick in deed, and therefore ych thank thee: I see sometime, the blind man hits a Crow, He may thank me, that he is plagued so: Well, well, Dalia, the Loan ych bore to thee, Hath made me sick, and picked my purse from me. A, is he gone? a fool company him, In good sooth Sir, this match fadged frim: Well, I will trudge, to find my tellewe Rowke, To share the price, that my device hath took. The heavy charge, that Nature binds me too, I have performed, engraved my Brother is: O would to God (to ease, my ceaseless woe) My wretched bones, entombed were with his. But O in vain, this bootless wish, I use, I, poor I must live in sorrow, joined with shame: And shall he live? that did us both abuse? And quench through rule, the coals of just revenge? O: not, I will now high me to the King: To whom, I will, recount my wretched state, Lewd Promos rape, my Brother's death and all: And (though with shame, I may this tale relate) To prove that force, enforced me to fall: When I have shown, Lord Promos fowl misdeeds, This knife forthwith, shall end my woe and shame, My gored heart, which at his feet then bleeds, To scourge his faults, the King will more inflame. In deeds to do, that I in words pretend, I now advise, my journey, to the King: Yet ere I go, as Swans sing at their end, In solemn Song, I mean my knell to ring. SIth fortune thwart, doth cross my joys with care, Sigh that my bliss, is changed to bale by fate: Sigh froward chance, my days in woe doth wear, Sigh I alas, must moon without a mate. I wretch have vowed, to sing both day and night, O sorrow slay, all motions of delight. Come grisly grief, torment this heart of mine, Come deep despair, and stop my loathed breath. Come wretched woe, my thought of hope to pine: Come cruel care, prefer my suit to death. Death, end my woe, which sing both day and night, O sorrow slay, all motions of delight.
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)
Howe nowe Grimball? O Leard, my Purſe is cutte. VVhen? where? Nowe, here. Boye, let the doore be ſhutte, If it be here, we wyll ſtraight wayes ſee, Where's he, that came with you? I can not tell. What is hee? I knowe not. Where doth he dwell? O Leard, I ken not I. You haue done well. This knaue, your pence, in his pocket hath purſt: Let's ſeeke him out. Nay harke, I muſt neades firſt: O Learde, Learde, cham ſicke, my belly akes, too, too: Thou lookſt yll: well, yle tell thee what to doo. Since thou art ſo ſicke, ſtraight wayes, get thée home, To finde this Iacke, my ſelfe abroade wyll rome. The rather, for that he playde the knaue with mée, Cham ſicke in déede, and therfore ych thanke thée: I ſée ſometime, the blinde man hits a Crowe, He maye thanke me, that he is plagued ſoe: Well, well, Dalia, the Lone ych bare to thée, Hath made me ſicke, and pickt my purſe from mée. A, is he gone? a foole company him, In good ſoothe Sir, this match fadged frim: Well, I wyll trudge, to finde my tellewe Rowke, To ſhare the price, that my deuiſe hath tooke. The heauy chardge, that Nature bindes me too, I haue perform'd, ingrau'd my Brother is: O woulde to God (to eaſe, my ceaſeles woo) My wretched bones, intombed were with his. But O in vaine, this booteleſſe wiſh, I vſe, I, poore I muſt lyue in ſorrowe, ioynde with ſhame: And ſhall he lyue? that dyd vs both abuſe? And quench through rule, the coles of iuſt reuenge? O: no, I wyll nowe hye me to the King: To whome, I wyll, recount my wretched ſtate, Lewde Promos rape, my Brothers death and all: And (though with ſhame, I maye this tale relate) To prooue that force, enforced me to fall: When I haue ſhowne, Lorde Promos fowle miſdeedes, This knife foorthwith, ſhall ende my woe and ſhame, My gored harte, which at his feete then bleedes, To ſcorge his faultes, the King wyll more inflame. In déedes to doo, that I in woordes pretende, I nowe aduiſe, my iourney, to the King: Yet ere I go, as Swans ſing at their ende, In ſolemne Song, I meane my knell to ryng. SIth fortune thwart, doth croſſe my ioyes with care, Sith that my bliſſe, is chaungde to bale by fate: Sith frowarde chaunce, my dayes in woe doth weare, Sith I alas, muſt mone without a mate. I wretch haue vowde, to ſing both daye and night, O ſorrowe ſlaye, all motions of delight. ¶ Come grieſlie griefe, torment this harte of mine, Come deepe diſpaire, and ſtoppe my loathed breath. Come wretched woe, my thought of hope to pine: Come cruell care, preferre my ſute to death. Death, ende my wo, which ſing both daye and night, O ſorrowe ſlaye, all motions of delight.