Heywood, Thomas · published 1600 · first performed or written 1599 [1592-1599] (Annals) history · Derby's (Strange's) Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.76 · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
O world what art thou? man, even from his birth Finds nothing else but misery on earth, Thou never (world) scornedst me so much before, But I (vain world) do hate thee ten times more. I am glad I feel approaching death so nigh, World thou hatest me, I thee vain world defy. I pray ye yet good master officers, Do but this kindness to poor wretched souls, As let us have the burial of our friend, It is but so much labour saved for you. There take his body, bury it where you will, So it be quickly done out of the way. What's he that begs the burial of my friend, And hath so oftentimes relieved me? Ah gentle sir, to comfort my sad woe, Let me that good kind man of mercy know. Ah Iane, now there is none but thou and I Look on me well, knowest thou thy Ma. Shore? My Husband? then break and live no more. Ah my dear Iane, comfort thy heavy soul, Go not away so soon, a little stay, A little, little while, that thou and I, Like man and wife may here together die, How can I look upon my husband's face, That shamed myself, and wrought his deep disgrace? Iane be content, our woes are now alike, With one self rod thou seest God doth us strike, If for thy sin, I'll pray to heaven for thee, And if for mine, do thou as much for me. Ah Shore, is't possible thou canst forgive me? Yes Iane, I doc. I cannot hope thou wilt: My faults so great that I cannot expect it. i'faith I do, as freely from my soul, As at God's hands I hope to be forgiven. Then God reward thee, for we now must part, I feel cold death doth seize upon my heart. And he is come to me, here he lies, I feel him ready to close up mine eyes, Lend me thy hand to bury this our friend, And then we both will hasten to our end. sit thou there, here I my place will have, Give me thy hand, thus we embrace our grave, Ah Iane, he that the depth of woe will see, Let him but now behold our misery: But be content, this is the best of all, Lower than now we are, we cannot fall. Ah, I am faint, how happy air art thou, Not feeling that which doth afflict us now? Oh happy grave, to us this comfort giving, Here lies two living dead, here one dead living, Here for his sake, lo this we do for thee, Thou lookest for one, and art possessed of three. Oh dying marriage, oh, sweet married death Thou grave which only shouldst part faithful friends, Bringst us together, and dost join our hands, Oh living death, even in this dying life, Yet ere I go, once Mathew kiss thy wife.
nodes 2824–2881 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 47 of 49 in this edition
Length
491 words · 624 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.762 (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)
O world what art thou? man, euen from his birth Findes nothing else but miserie on earth, Thou neuer (world) scorn'dst mée so much before, But I (vaine world) do hate thee ten times more. I am glad I féele approaching death so nie, World thou hatest mée, I thée vaine world defie. I pray yee yet good master officers, Do but this kindnesse to poore wretched soules, As let vs haue the buriall of our friend, It is but so much labour saude for you. There take his body, bury it where you wil, So it be quickly done out of the way. Whats he that begs the buriall of my friend, And hath so oftentimes relieued mee? Ah gentle sir, to comfort my sad woe, Let mee that good kind man of mercie know. Ah Iane, now there is none but thou and I Looke on mee well, knowest thou thy Ma. Shoare? My Husband? then breake and liue no more. Ah my déere Iane, comfort thy heauie soule, Go not away so soone, a little stay, A little, little while, that thou and I, Like man and wife may here together die, How can I looke vpon my husbands face, That shamde my self, and wrought his déep disgrace Iane be content, our woes are now alike, With one selfe rod thou séest God d vs strike, If for thy , ile pray to heauen for thee, And if for mine, do thou as much for mee. Ah Shoare, ist possible thou canst forgine mée? Yes Iane, I doc. I cannot hope thou wilt: My faults so great that I cannot expect it. I faith I doe, as fréely from my soule, As at Gods hands I hope to be forgiuen. Then God reward thée, for we now must part, I féele cold death doth seize vpon my heart. And hee is come to mee, here he lies, I féele him readie to close vp mine eies, Lend mée thy hand to burie this our friend, And then we both will hasten to our end. sit thou there, here I my place will haue, Giue mée thy hand, thus wée embrace our graue, Ah Iane, he that the depth of woe will see, Let him but now behold our miserie: But be content, this is the best of al, Lower then now we are, wée cannot fall. Ah, I am faint, how happie Airc art thou, Not féeling that which doth afflict vs now? Oh happie graue, to vs this comfort giuing, Here lics two liuing dead, here one dead liuing, Here for his sake, loe this we doe for thee, Thou lookste for one, and art possst of thrée. Oh dying marriage, o, swéet married death Thou graue which only shouldst part faithfull friends, Bringst vs togither, and dast iyne our hnds, Oh ing death, euen in this ding life, Yet ere I go, once Mathew kisse thy wife.