Anonymous / Kyd, Thomas / Shakespeare, William / Watson, Thomas · published 1592 · first performed or written 1591 [1588-1592] (Annals) tragedy · Pembroke's Men (?) T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.83 · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Arden I thought not on her, I came to thee, But rather than I pocket up this wrong. What will you do sir? Revenge it on the proudest of you both: So sirrah, you may not wear a sword, The statute makes against artificers, I warrant that I do, now use your bodkin, Your spanish needle, and your pressing Iron, For this shall go with me, and mark my words, You goodman bu=otcher, 'tis to you I speak, The next time that I take thee near my house, In steed of Legs I'll make thee crawl on stumps. Ah master Arden you have injured me, I do appeal to God, and to the world. Why canst thou deny, thou wert a butcher once, Measure me what I am, not what I was. Why what art thou now, but a Velvet drudge, A cheating steward, and base minded peasant. Arden now thou hast belched and vomited, The rancorous venom of thy mis-swollen heart, Hear me but speak, as I intend to live With God, and his elected saints in heaven, I never meant more to solicit her, And that she knows, and all the world shall see, I loved her once, sweet Arden pardon me. I could not choose, her beauty fired my heart, But time hath quenched these overraging coals, And Arden though I now frequent thy house, 'tis for my sister's sake, her waiting maid And not for hers, mayest thou enjoy her long: Hell fire and wrathful vengeance light on me, If I dishonour her or injure thee. Mosbie with these thy protestations, The deadly hatred of my heart is appealed, And thou and I'll be friends, if this prove true. As for the base terms I gave thee late, Forget them Mosbie, I had cause to speak: When all the Knights and gentlemen of Kent, Make common table talk of her and thee. Who lives that is not touched with slanderous tongues, Then Mosbie, to eschew the speech of men, Upon whose general brute all honour hangs, Forbear his house. Forbear it, nay rather frequent it more. The world shall see that I distrust her not, To warn him on the sudden from my house, Were too confirm the rumour that is grown. By faith my sir you say true, And therefore will I sojourn here a while, Until our enemies have talked their fill. And then I hope they'll cease, and at last confess, How causeless they have injured her and me. And I will lie at London all this term, To let them see how light I weigh their words. Husband sit down, your breakfast will be could, Come M. Mosbie will you sit with us, I can not eat, but i'll sit for company. Sirrah Michael see our horse be ready. Husband why pause ye, why eat you not, I am not well, there's something in this broth That is not wholesome, didst thou make it Alice?
Anonymous / Kyd, Thomas / Shakespeare, William / Watson, Thomas
Publication year (edition)
1592
First performance / composition (Annals)
1591 [1588-1592]
First performance (BritDrama)
1590 [1587-1592]
Company (BritDrama)
Pembroke's Men (?)
Genre (British Drama)
tragedy
Play type
Adult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 183 · TCP A20951 · DEEP 142
Edition role
Representative edition — used in the analysis
Position
nodes 303–363 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 6 of 40 in this edition
Length
493 words · 644 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.827 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Arden I thought not on her, I came to thée, But rather then I pocket vp this wrong. What will you doo sir? Reuenge it on the proudest of you both: So sirha, you may not weare a sword, The statute makes against artificers, I warrand that I doo, now vse your bodkin, Your spanish needle, and your pressing Iron, For this shall go with me, and marke my words, You goodman botcher, tis to you I speake, The next time that I take thee neare my house, In steede of Legs Ile make thee crall on stumps. Ah maister Arden you have inturde mée, I doo appeale to God, and to the world. Why canst thou deny, thou wert a botcher once, Measure me what I am, not what I was. Why what art thou now, but a Veluet drudge, A cheating steward, and base minded pesant. Arden now thou hast belcht and vomited, The rancorous venome of thy mis-swolne hart, Heare me but speake, as I intend to liue With God, and his elected saints in heauen, I neuer meant more to solicit her, And that she knowes, and all the world shall sée, I loued her once, sweete Arden pardon me. I could not chuse, her beauty fyred my hearte, But time hath quench't these ouerraging coles, And Arden though I now frequent thy house, Tis for my sisters sake, her waiting maid And not for hers, maiest thou enioy her long: Hell fyze and wrathfull vengeance light on me, If I dishonor her or iniure thée. Mosbie with these thy protestations, The deadly hatred of my hart is appealed, And thou and Ile be freends, if this proue trew. As for the base tearmes I gaue thee late, Forget them Mosbie, I had cause to speake: When all the Knights and gentlemen of Kent, Make common table talke of her and thée. Who liues that is not toucht with staunderous tongues, Then Mosbie, to eschew the speache of men, Upon whose generall brute all honor hangs, Forbeare his house. Forbeare it, nay rather frequent it more. The worlde shall see that I distrust her not, To warne him on the sudden from my house, Were too confirme the rumour that is growne. By faith my sir you say trew, And therefore will I soiourne here a while, Untill our enemies haue talkt their fill. And then I hope theile cease, and at last confesse, How causeles they haue inturde her and me. And I will ly at London all this tearme, To let them see how light I wey their words. Husband sit down, your brekfast will be could, Come M. Mosbie will you sit with vs, I can not eat, but ile sit for company. Sirra Michaell see our horse be ready. Husband why pause ye, why eat you not, I am not well, thers something in this broth That is not holesome, didst thou make it Ales?