Whetstone, George · published 1578 · first performed or written 1578 [1576-1579] (Annals) comedy · Unacted T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.67 · 527 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Then in my Den, I call to mind, the life I lived in bliss: And by the want I freedom judge, the greatest joy that is. The freeman is in view of friends, to have release in need: The exile, though he have no lack, yet lives he still in dread That his mysdéedes, will hardly scape, the punishment of law: And living, he were better dead, that liveth in this awe, Besides this fear, which never fails, the banished man in want, As oft he is, is sure to find his succor's very scant. Then who is he so mad, that friends, and freedom doth enjoy? That will adventure breach of law, to live in this annoy? And not annoy to him alone, but to his friends and kin: Great be the cares, Cassandra, and Polina liveth in. Through thought, of me, whom long agone, beheaded they suppose, For my offence, thus are they scorgde, yet dare I not disclose My safety, for their help: but hark, who cometh here? This chance seems strange: God grant good news, I hope, and yet I fear. If the could find my Mare, che would be rusty by the rood, And cham sure the hoorechup, is peaking in this wood. Thy will seek every corner, but che will found her. This clown can hardly me bewray, and yet such dunghill churls, Such news, as is in market towns, about the country whirls. What seeks thou good fellow? My sqawde Mare, dost her know? No. Then scummer me not, in haste ych go, Seek my Mare, to see the sport at Iulio. What sport? A little sport. What? Nay skill not a whit? What means this Ass? T'wyll teach the hoorecup wit. H'yll hung, handsome young men for the foot sin of love, When so his knavery, himself, a bawdy jack doth prove. His words seemeth strange, somewhat is a wry. Well, Ihill see his shoulders, from's jowl to fly. Whose shoulders friend? As though you did know. Whom? Lord Promos. Yes: my most accursed foe: But what of him? Thou kenst. No. Sayest not, yes, Yes: So, But friend thou took'st my words amiss, I know nothing, in what state Promos is. Thou know'st, and thou knowest not: out whoreson fool, Leave stealing Cunnyes, and get thee to school, Farewell. Soft. O to arte no fool good thief: Save my money take my life. Tush be brief. Some news, of lewd Lord Promos tell me, And with life and money, I'll set thee free. I will thou know'st the King now at Iulio. Very well. Thou canst tell as well as I Let me go: Nay I'll see if thou dost lie. If thou dost isle whip thee, when thou hast done. Kissing and lying, ich see is all one: And c have no money, chul tell true therefore. Dispatch then. Then, lying Promoter, this more: Casgandra scusde, Promos of honesty: And killing Ramstrugio for bawdry. What more? The king at Promos, great pleasure did take, And Casgandra, an honest woman to make: The King maunded him, her straight to marry, And for killing her brother, he must die.
nodes 730–803 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 13 of 19 in this edition
Length
527 words · 757 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.672 (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)
Then in my Denne, I call to minde, the lyfe I lyu'de in bliſſe: And by the want I fréedome iudge, the greateſt ioye that is. The fréeman is in viewe of friendes, to haue releaſe in néede: The exyle, though he haue no lacke, yet lyues he ſtyll in dréede That his myſdéedes, wyll hardly ſcape, the puniſhment of lawe: And lyuing, he were better dead, that lyueth in this awe, Beſides this feare, which neuer fayles, the baniſht man in want, As ofte he is, is ſure to finde his ſuccor's verie ſcant. Then who is he ſo mad, that friendes, and fréedome doth enioye? That wyll aduenture breach of lawe, to lyue in this annoye? And not annoye to him alone, but to his friendes and kyn: Great be the cares, Caſſandra, and Polina lyueth in. Through thought, of me, whom long agone, beheaded they ſuppoſe, For my offence, thus are they ſcorgde, yet dare I not diſcloſe My ſafetie, for their helpe: but harke, who commeth here? This chaunce ſéemes ſtrange: God graunt good newes, I hope, and yet I feare. If che could finde my Mare, che would be ruſty by the rood, And cham ſure the hoorechup, is peaking in this wood. Thy wyl ſéeke euery corner, but che wyll find her. This clowne can hardly mée bewray, and yet ſuch dunghyll churles, Such newes, as is in market tounes, about the country whorles. What ſéekes thou good fellow? My ſqawde Mare, doſt her know? No. Then ſcummer mée not, in haſte ych goe, Séeke my Mare, to ſée the ſport at Iulio. What ſport? A lyttel ſport. What? Nay ſkyl not a whit? What meanes this Aſſe? T'wyll teache the hoorecup wyt. H'yll hang, handſome young men for the foote ſinne of loue, When ſo his knauery, himſelfe, a bawdy iack doth proue. His wordes ſéemeth ſtraunge, ſomwhat is a wry. VVel, chyll ſée his ſhoulders, from's iowle to flye. VVhoſe ſhoulders friend? As though you dyd know. VVhome? Lord Promos. Yes: my moſt accurſed foe: But what of him? Thou kenſt. No. Sayſt not, yes, Yes: So, But friend thou took'ſt my wordes amys, I know nothing, in what ſtate Promos is. Thou knowſt, and thou knoweſt not: out horſon foole, Leaue ſtealing Cunnyes, and get thee to ſcoole, Farewell. Soft. O to arte no foole good théefe: Saue my mony take my life. Tuſh be breefe. Some newes, of lewde Lord Promos tell mée, And wyth lyfe and mony, yle ſet thee free. I wyll thou knowſt the King now at Iulio. Very well. Thou canſt tel as wel as I. Let me goe: Nay yle ſee if thou doſt lye. If thou doſt yle whip thee, when thou haſt done. Kiſſyng and lying, ich ſee is all one: And chaue no mony, chul tell true therfore. Diſpatch then. Then, lying Promoter, this more: Caſgandra ſcuſde, Promos of honeſtie: And killyng Ramſtrugio for baudry. What more? The king at Promos, great pleaſure did take, And Caſgandra, an honeſt woman to make: The King maunded him, her ſtrayght to marry, And for killyng her brother, he muſt dye.