Dekker, Thomas · published 1600 · first performed or written 1599 [Nov 9-30, payment] (Annals) romance · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men · before the Court unassigned nearest T57 Ships, merchants and pirates · 506 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T57: ship, sea, master, sail, home, money, pisaro, life, ships, till.
I'll go hence, because you send me: but i'll go weeping hence, for grief that I must turn villain as many do, and leave you when you are up to the ears in adversity. She hath robbed me, and now i'll play the thief, I'll steal from hence to Cyprus, for black shame. Here (through my riots) brands my lofty name. I'll sell this pride for help to bear me thither, So pride and beggary shall walk together: This world is but a School of villainy, Therefore i'll rob my brother, (not of gold, Nor of his virtues, virtue none will steal:) But (if I can,) i'll steal his wishing Hat. And with that, wandering round about the world, I'll search all corners to find misery, And where she dwells, i'll dwell, languish and die. Gentles, if ere you have beheld the passions, The combats of his soul who being a king, By some usurping hand hath been deposed From all his royalties: even such a soul, Such eyes, such heart swollen big with sighs and tears, The star-crossed son of Fortunatus wears. The thoughts crowned him a Monarch in the morn, Yet now he's bandied by the Seas in scorn, From wave to wave: his golden treasure's spoil Makes him in desperate language to entreat, The winds to spend their fury on his life: But they (being mild in tyranny) or scorning To triumph in a wretch's funeral, Toss him to Cyprus. O what treachery Cannot this Serpent gold entice us to? He robs his brother of the soldan's prize, And having got his wish (the wishing Hat) He does not (as he vowed) seek misery, But hopes by that to win his purse again, And in that Hope from Cyprus is he fled. If your swift thoughts clap on their wonted wings, In Genua may you take this fugitive, Where having cozened many jewellers, To England back he comes, step but to court, And there (disguised) you find him bargaining For jewels with the beauteous Agrippine, Who wearing at her side the virtuous purse, He clasps her in his arms, and as a Raven, Griping the tender-hearted Nightingale, So flies he with her, (wishing) in the air, To be transported to some wilderness: Imagine this the place: see here they come. Since they themselves have tongues, mine shall be dumb. What devil art thou that affrightesst me thus, Haling a Princess from her father's court, To spoil her in this savage wilderness? Indeed the devil and the pickpurse should always fly together, (for they are sworn brothers:) but Madam Covetousness, I am neither a devil as you call me, nor a jewellers as I call myself, no, nor a juggler, yet ere you and I part, we'll have some legerdemain together: do you know me? I am betrayed: this is the Cypriot. Forgive me, 'twas not I that changed thy purse, But Athelstane my Father, send me home, And here's thy purse again: here are thy jewels, And I in satisfaction of all wrongs.
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)
Ile goe hence, because you send me: but ile goe wéeping hence, for griefe that I must turne villaine as many doe, and leaue you when you are vp to the eares in aduersitie. Shée hath robd me, and now ile play the thiefe, Ile steale from hence to Cyprus, for blacke shame. Here (through my riots) brands my loftie name. Ile sell this pride for helpe to beare me thither, So pride and beggerie shall walke together: This world is but a Schoole of villanie, Therefore ile rob my brother, (not of gold, Nor of his vertues, vertue none will steale:) But (if I can,) ile steale his wishing Hat. And with that, wandring round about the world, Ile search all corners to find miserie, And where shée dwels, ile dwell, languish and die. Gentels, if ere you haue beheld the passions, The combats of his soule who being a king, By some vsurping hand hath béene deposde From all his royalties: euen such a soule, Such eyes, such heart swolne big with sighes and teares, The star-crost sonne of Fortunatus weares. The thoughts crownd him a Monarch in the morne, Yet now hées bandyed by the Seas in scorne, From waue to waue: his golden treasures spoyle Makes him in desperate language to intreate, The winds to spend their furie on his life: But they (being milde in tyrannie) or scorning To triumph in a wretches funerall, Tosse him to Cyprus. O what treacherie Cannot this Serpent gold intice vs to? He robs his brother of the Souldans prize, And hauing got his wish (the wishing Hat) He does not (as he voud) séeke miserie, But hopes by that to win his purse againe, And in that Hope from Cyprus is he fled. If your swift thoughts clap on their wonted wings, In Genoway may you take this fugitiue, Where hauing cozened many Iewellers, To England backe he comes, step but to court, And there (disguizde) you find him bargoning For Iewels with the beautious Agripyne, Who wearing at her side the vertuous purse, He claspes her in his armes, and as a Rauen, Griping the tender-hearted Nightingale, So flies he with her, (wishing) in the ayre, To be transported to some wildernesse: Imagine this the place: sée here they come. Since they themselues haue tongues, mine shall be dumbe. What diuell art thou that affrightst me thus, Haling a Princesse from her fathers court, To spoyle her in this sauage wildernesse? Indéed the diuel and the pick-purse should alwaies flie together, (for they are sworne brothers:) but Madam Couetousnes, I am neither a diuel as you cal me, nor a Iewellers as I call my selfe, no, nor a Iugler, yet ere you and I part, wéele haue some legerdimain together: do you know me? I am betrayd: this is the Cypriot. Forgiue mee, twas not I that changde thy purse, But Athelstane my Father, send me home, And heres thy purse againe: here are thy Iewels, And I in satisfaction of all wrongs.