Yarington, Robert · published 1601 · first performed or written 1594 [1594-c.1598] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
I was affrighted by a sudden cry, And coming down found master Beech's man, Thus with a hammer sticking in his head. Ah woe is me for Thomas Winchester, The truest soul that ever master had, Where's master Beech? Nay, nobody can tell: Did you see any running from the door, When you looked out and heard the young man cry, Yes I saw two truly to my thinking, but they Ran away as fast as their hands could bear them: By my troth 'twas so dark I could see nobody, Pray God master Beech hath not hurt his boy in his patience And if he have he must be hanged in his choler. I dare be sworn he would not strike him thus, Pray God his master be no slain himself. The night grows late, and we will have this course Be watched all night, tomorrow we shall see, Whence sprang this strange uncivil cruelty. Neighbour good night. neighbours all good night. Pray God I never see so sad a sight. Oh sister, sister, now I am pursued, The mighty clamour that the boy did make, Hath raised the neighbours round about the street: So that I know not where to hide myself. What brother, have you killed Beech's boy? No, no, not I, but yet another hath, Come, come to bed, for fear we be descried: The fearfullest night that ever Merry knew. Seem it not strange resolved gentleman, That I thus privately have severed you, To open secret sorrows of my heart: Think not I do intend to undermine, Your passed lives, although you know I am, A man to whom the true unpartial sword, Of equal justice is delivered, Therefore swear both, as you respect your souls, At the last dreadful sessions hold in heaven, First to conceal, and next to execute, What I reveal, and shall enjoin you to. So you reward us, whatsoever it be, We vow performance, and true secrecy. There go aside, ye seeming semblances, Of equal justice, and true piety, And lay my hearts corrupted citadel, Wide open to your thoughts to look into. Know I am named Fallerio, to deceive The world with show of truth and honesty, But yet nor truth, nor honesty abides, Within my thoughts, but falsehood, cruelty, Blood sucking Avarice, and all the sins, That hale men on to bloody stratagems, Like to yourselves, which care not how you gain, By blood, extortion, falsehood, perjury, So you may have a pleasing recompense: Start not aside, depart not from yourselves, I know your composition is as mine, Of blood, extortion, falsehood, perjury, True branded with the mark of wickedness. Be not so bitter, we are they indeed, That would deprive our fathers of their lives, So we were sure to have a benefit: I weigh no more the murdering of a child, Dragged from the sucking bosom of his mother, Than I respect to quaff a bowl of wine, Unto his health, that dearly loveth me.
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)
I was affrighted by a sodaine crie, And comming downe found maister Beeches man, Thus with a hammer sticking in his head. Ah wo is me for Thomas Winchester, The truest soule that euer maister had, Wheres maister Bch? Nay, no body can tell: Did you see any running from the dore, When you lookt out and heard the youngman crie, Yes I saw two trulie to my thinking, but they Ranne away as fast as their hands could beare them: By my troth twas so darke I could see no bodie, Pray God maister Beech hath not hurt his boy in his patience And if he haue he must be hangd in his choller. I dare be sworne he would not strike him thus, Praie God his maister be no slaine himselfe. The night growes late, and we will haue this course Be watch'd all night, to morrow we shall see, Whence sprang this strange vnciuill crueltie. Neighbour good night. Neighbors all good night. Praie God I neuer see so sad a sight. Oh sister, sister, now I am pursu'd, The mightie clamour that the boy did make, Hath raisde the neighbours round about the street: So that I know not where to hide my selfe. What brother, haue you kild Beeches boy? No, no, not I, but yet another hath, Come, come to bed, for feare we be discri'd: The fearefullest night that euer Merry knew. Seeme it not strange resolued gentlemn, That I thus priuatelie haue seuered you, To open secret sorrowes of my hart: Thinke not I do intend to vndermine, Your passed liues, although you know I am, A man to whom the true vnpartiall sworde, Of equall iustice is deliuered, Therefore sweare both, as you respect your soules, At the last dreadfull sessions hold in heauen, First to conceale, and next to execute, What I reueale, and shall enioyne you to. So you rewarde vs, whatsoeuer it be, We vowe performance, and true secresie. There go aside, yee seeming semblances, Of equall iustice, and true pietie, And lay my hearts corrupted Cytadell, Wide open to your thoughts to looke into. Know I am nam'd Fallerio, to deceiue The world with shew of truth and honestie, But yet nor truth, nor honestie abides, Within my thoughts, but falshood, crueltie, Blood sucking Auarice, and all the sinnes, That hale men on to bloodie stratagems, Like to your selues, which care not how you gaine, By blood, extorcion, falshood, periurie, So you may haue a pleasing recompence: Start not aside, depart not from your selues, I know your composition is as mine, Of bloud, extortion, falshood, periurie, True branded with the marke of wickednesse. Be not so bitter, we are they indeede, That would depriue our fathers of their liues, So we were sure to haue a benefit: I way no more the murthring of a child, Drag'd from the sucking bosome of his mother, Then I respect to quaffe a boule of wine, Vnto his health, that dearely loueth me.