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 T1 Death, grief and revenge · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
S'hart now I am worse than ere I was before: For half the world I would not have her die. Here's neither spring nor ditch, nor rain, nor dew, Nor bread, nor drink: my lovely Agrippine, Be comforted, see here are Apple trees. climb up for God's sake, reach me some of them. Look up, which of these Apples likes thee best? This hath a withered face, 'tis some sweet fruit. Not that, my sorrows are too sour already. Come hither, here are Apples like gold. O, I for God's sake, gather some of these. Ay me, would God I were at home again. Stand farther, lest I chance to fall on thee. Oh here be rare Apples, rare red-cheeked Apples, that cry come kiss me: Apples, hold your peace, i'll teach you to cry. O England, shall I ne'er behold thee more? Agrippina, 'tis a most Sugared delicious taste in ones mouth, but when 'tis down, 'tis as bitter as gall. Yet gather some of them. Oh, that a Princess Should pine for food: were I at home again, I should disdain to stand thus and complain. Here's one Apple that grows highest, Agrippina, & I could reach that, i'll come down. Make haste, for the hot Sun doth scald my cheeks. The sun kiss thee? hold, catch, put on my Hat, I will have yonder highest Apple, though I die for't. I had not wont be Sunburnt, wretched me. O England, would I were again in thee. 'swounds Agrippina, stay, O I am undone, Sweet Agrippina, if thou hearst my voice, Take pity of me, and return again. She flies like lightning: O she hears me not, I wish myself into a wilderness, And now I shall turn wild: here I shall famish, Here die, here cursing die, here raving die, And thus will wound my breast, and rent mine hair. What hills of Flint are grown upon my brows? O me, two forked horns, I am turned beast, I have abused two blessings, wealth and knowledge, Wealth in my purse, and knowledge in my Hat, By which being borne into the Courts of kings, I might have seen the wondrous works of Ioue, Acquired Experience, Learning, Wisdom, Truth, But I in wilderness tottered out my youth, And therefore must turn wild: must be a beast, An ugly beast: my body horns must bear, Because my foul deformity doth wear. Lives none within this wood? If none but I Live here (thanks heaven) for here none else shall die. See where my new-turned devil has built his hell. Virtue, who conquers now? the fool is ta'en. O sleepy sin. Sweet tunes wake him again. Vice sets too heavy on his drowsy soul, Music sweet concord cannot pierce his ear. Sing and amongst your Songs, mix bitter scorn. Those that tear Virtue, must by Vice be torn. Virtue stand aside: the fool is caught, Laugh to see him, laugh aloud to wake him, Follies nets are wide, and neatly wrought, Mock his horns, and laugh to see Vice take him.
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)
S'hart now I am worse then ere I was before: For halfe the world I would not haue her die. Heres neither spring nor ditch, nor raine, nor dew, Nor bread, nor drinke: my louely Agripyne, Be comforted, sée here are Apple trées. Clime vp for Gods sake, reach me some of them. Looke vp, which of these Apples likes thée best? This hath a withered face, tis some swéete fruit. Not that, my sorrowes are too sowre already. Come hither, here are Apples like gold. O, I for Gods sake, gather some of these. Ay me, would God I were at home againe. Stand farder, least I chance to fall on thée. Oh here be rare Apples, rare red-cheekt Apples, that cry come kisse me▪ Apples, hold your peace, ile teach you to cry. O England, shal I ne're behold thée more? Agripyna, tis a most Sugred delicious tast in ones mouth, but when tis downe, tis as bitter as gall. Yet gather some of them. Oh, that a Princesse Should pine for foode: were I at home againe, I should disdaine to stand thus and complaine. Heres one Apple that growes highest, Agripyna, & I could reach that, ile come downe. Make hast, for the hot Sun doth scald my chéekes. The sunne kisse thée? hold, catch, put on my Hat, I will haue yonder highest Apple, though I die for't. I had not wont be Sun-burnt, wretched mée. O England, would I were againe in thée. Swounds Agripyna, stay, O I am vndone, Swéete Agripyna, if thon hearst my voice, Take pittie of me, and returne againe▪ Shée flies like lightning: O she heares me not, I wish my selfe into a wildernesse, And now I shall turne wilde: here I shall famish, Here die, here cursing dye, here rauing die, And thus will wound my brest, and rent mine hayre. What hils of Flint are growne vpon my browes? O me, two forked hornes, I am turn'd beast, I haue abuzde two blessings, welth and knowledge, Wealth in my purse, and knowledge in my Hat, By which being borne into the Courts of kings, I might haue séene the wondrous workes of Ioue, Acquirde Experience, Learning, Wisedome, Truth, But I in wildernesse tottred out my youth, And therefore must turne wild: must be a beast, An vgly beast: my body hornes must beare, Because my soule deformitie doth weare. Liues none within this wood? If none but I Liue here (thankes heauen) for here none els shal die. Sée where my new-turnd diuel has built his hel. Uertue, who conquers now? the foole is tane. O sléepie sinne. Swéete tunes wake him againe. Uice sets too heauie on his drowzy soule, Musicke swéete concord cannot pierce his eare. Sing and amongst your Songs, mix bitter scorne. Those that teare Uertue, must by Uice be torne. Uertue stand aside: the foole is caught, Laugh to sée him, laugh alowd to wake him, Follies nets are wide, and neately wrought, Mocke his hornes, and laugh to sée Uice take him.