Peele, George · published 1595 · first performed or written 1590 [c.1588-1594] (Annals) romance · Queen Elizabeth's Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.72 · 530 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Tell me Time, tell me just Time, When shall I Delia see? When shall I see the lodestar of my life? When shall my wandering course end with her sight? Or I but view my hope, my heart's delight. Father God speed, if you tell fortunes, I pray good father tell me mine. Son I do see in thy face, Thy blessed fortune work apace; I do perceive that thou hast wit, Beg of thy fate to govern it, For wisdom governed by advise, Makes many fortunate and wise. Bestow thy alms, give more than all, Till dead men's bones come at thy call: Farewell my son, dream of no rest, Till thou repent that thou didst best. This man hath left me in a Labyrinth, He biddeth me give more than all, Till dead men's bones come at thy call: He biddeth me dream of no rest, Till I repent that I do best. You may be ashamed, you whoreson scald Sexton and Churchwarden, if you had any shame in those shameless faces of yours, to let a poor man lie so long above ground unburied. A rot on you all, that have no more compassion of a good fellow when he is gone. What would you have us to bury him, and to answer it ourselves to the parish? Parish me no parishes, pay me my fees, and let the rest run on in the quarters accounts, and put it down for one of your good deeds a God's name, for I am not one that curiously stands upon merits. You whoreson sodden headed sheeps-face, shall a good fellow do less service and more honesty to the parish, & will you not when he is dead let him have Christmas burial. Peace Corebus, assure as Iack was Iack, the frollickst frannion amongst you, and I Wiggen his sweet sworn brother, Iack shall have his funerals, or some of them shall lie on God's dear earth for it, that's once. Wiggen I hope thou wilt do no more than thou darest answer. Sir, sir, dare or dare not, more or less, answer or not answer, do this, or have this. Help, help, help, Wiggen sets upon the parish with a Pike staff. Hold thy hands good fellow. Can you blame him sir, if he take jacks part against this shake rotten parish that will not bury Iack. Why what was that Iack? Who Iack sir, who our Iack sir? as good a fellow as ever trod upon neat's leather. Look you sir, he gave four score and nineteen mourning gowns to the parish when he died, and because he would not make them up a full hundred, they would not bury him; was not this good dealing? Oh Lord sir how he lies, he was not worth a half penny, and drunk out every penny: and now his fellows, his drunken companions, would have us to bury him at the charge of the parish, and we make many such matches, we may pull down the steeple, sell the Bells, and thatch the chancel: he shall lie above ground till he dance a galliard about the churchyard for Steven Loach.
nodes 242–276 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 8 of 15 in this edition
Length
530 words · 680 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.724 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T10 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Tell me Time, tell me iust Time, When shall I Delia see? When shall I see the loadstar of my life? When shall my wandring course end with her sight? Or I but view my hope, my hearts delight. Father God speede, if you tell fortunes, I pray good father tell me mine. Sonne I do see in thy face, Thy blessed fortune worke apace; I do perceiue that thou hast wit, Beg of thy fate to gouerne it, For wisdome gouern'd by aduise, Makes many fortunate and wise. Bestowe thy almes, giue more than all, Till dead mens bones come at thy call: Farewell my sonne, dreame of no rest, Til thou repent that thou didst best. This man hath left me in a Laborinth, He biddeth me giue more than all, Till dead mens bones come at thy call: He biddeth me dreame of no rest, Till I repent that I do best. You may be ashamed, you whorson scald Sexton and Churchwarden, if you had any shame in those shamelesse faces of yours, to let a poore man lie so long aboue ground vnburied. A rot on you all, that haue no more compassion of a good fellow when he is gone. What would you haue vs to burie him, and to aunswere it our selues to the parrishe? Parish me no parishes, pay me my fees, and let the rest runne on in the quarters accounts, and put it downe for one of your good deedes a Gods name, for I am not one that curiously stands vpon merits. You whoreson sodden headed sheepes-face, shall a good fellow do lesse seruice and more honestie to the parish, & will you not when he is dead let him haue Christmas buriall. Peace Corebus, assure as Iack was Iack, the frollickst frannion amongst you, and I VViggen his sweete sworne brother, Iack shall haue his funerals, or some of them shall lie on Gods deare earth for it, thats once. VViggen I hope thou wilt do no more then thou darst aunswer. Sir, sir, dare or dare not, more or lesse, aunswer or not aunswer, do this, or haue this. Helpe, helpe, helpe, VViggen sets vpon the parish with a Pike staffe. Hould thy hands good fellow. Can you blame him sir, if he take Iacks part against this shake rotten parish that will not burie Iack. Why what was that Iack? Who Iack sir, who our Iack sir? as good a fellow as euer troade vppon Neats leather. Looke you sir, he gaue foure score and nineteene mourning gownes to the parish when he died, and because he would not make them vp a full hundred, they would not bury him; was not this good dealing? Oh Lord sir how he lies, he was not worth a halfe penny, and drunke out euery penny: and nowe his fellowes, his drunken companions, would haue vs to burie him at the charge of the parish, and we make many such matches, we may pull downe the steeple, sell the Belles, and thatche the chauncell: he shall lie aboue ground till he daunce a galliard about the churchyard for Steeuen Loache.