Yarington, Robert · published 1601 · first performed or written 1594 [1594-c.1598] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 458 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
But by that God, which made that wondrous globe, Wherein is seen his powerful deity, Thou shalt not kill him maugre all thy spite: Swear, and forswear thyself ten thousand times, Awake Pertillo, for thou art betrayed, This bloody slave intends to murder thee. Both him, and all, that dare to rescue him. Wherefore? because I slept without your leave? Forgive my fault, I'll never sleep again. No child, thy wicked Uncle hath suborned, Both him and me to take thy life away: Which I would save, but that this hellish imp, Will not consent to spare thy guiltless blood. Why should Falleria seek to have my life. The lands and goods, thy father left his son, Do hale thee on to thy destruction. Oh needy treasure, harm begetting good, That safely should procure the loss of blood. Those lands and goods, thy father got with pain, Are swords where with his little son is slain. Then let our swords let out his guiltless life. Sweet, sour, kind, cruel, hold thy murdering knife, And hear me speak, before you murder me. Fear not sweet child, he shall not murder thee. No, but my sword shall let his puddings forth. First hear me speak, thou map of Butchery, 'tis but my goods and lands my Uncle seeks, Having that safely, he desires no more, I do protest by my dead parents souls, By the dear love of false Fallerio's son, Whose heart, my heart assures me, will be grieved, To hear his father's inhumanity: I will forsake my country, goods, and lands, I and myself, will even change myself, In name, in life, in habit, and in all, And live in some far moved continent, So you will spare my weak and tender youth, Which cannot entertain the stroke of death In budding years, and very spring of life. Leave of these bootless protestations, And use no ruth enticing arguments, For if you do, i'll lop you limb by limb, And torture you for childish eloquence. Thou shalt not make his little finger ache. Yes every part, and this shall prove it true. Oh I am slain, the Lord forgive thy fact, And give thee grace to die with penitence. A treacherous villain, full of cowardice, I'll make thee know that thou hast done amiss. Teach me that knowledge when you will or dare. Swoons I am peppered, I had need have salt, Or else tomorrow I shall yield a stink, Worse than a heap of dirty excrements: Now by this Hilt, this gold was earned too dear: Ah, how now death, wilt thou be conqueror? Then vengeance light on them that made me so, And there's another farewell ere I go. Enough, enough, I had my death before.
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)
But by that God, which made that wondrous globe, Wherein is seene his powerfull dietie, Thou shalt not kill him maugre all thy spight: Sweare, and forsweare thy selfe ten thousand times, Awake Pertillo, for thou art betrai'd, This bloody slaue intends to murther thee. Both him, and all, that dare to rescue him. Wherefore? because I slept without your leaue? Forgiue my fault, Ile neuer sleepe againe. No child, thy wicked Vnckle hath suborn'd, Both him and me to take thy life away: Which I would saue, but that this hellish impe, Will not consent to spare thy guiltlesse blood. Why should Falleria seeke to haue my life. The lands and goods, thy father left his sonne, Do hale thee on to thy destruction. Oh needy treasure, harme begetting good, That safely should procure the losse of blood. Those lands and goods, thy father got with paine, Are swords where with his little sonne is slaine. Then let our swords let out his guitlesse life. Sweete, sowre, kinde, cruell, holde thy murthering knife, And here me speake, before you murther me. Feare not sweet child, he shall not murther thee. No, but my sword shall let his puddings foorth. First here me speake, thou map of Butcherie, Tis but my goods and lands my Vnckle seekes, Hauing that safely, he desires no more, I do protest by my dead parents soules, By the deare loue of false Fallerios sonne, Whose heart, my heart assures me, will be grieu'd, To heare his fathers inhumanitie: I will forsake my countrie, goods, and lands, I and my selfe, will euen change my selfe, In name, in life, in habit, and in all, And liue in some farre moued continent, So you will spare my weake and tender youth, Which cannot entertaine the stroake of deat In budding yeares, and verie spring of life. Leaue of these bootles protestations, And vse no ruth entising argumentes, For if you doe, ile lop you lim by lim, And torture you for childish eloquence. Thou shalt not make his little finger ake. Yes euery pat, and this sha prooue it true. Oh I am slaine, the Lord forgiue thy fact, And giue thee grace to dye with penitence. A treacherous villaine, full of cowardise, Ile make thee know that thou hast done amisse. Teach me that knowledge when you will or dare. Swoones I am peppered, I had need haue salt, Or else to morrow I shall yeeld a stincke, Worse then a heape of durty excrements: Now by this Hilt, this golde was earn'd too deare: Ah, how now death, wilt thou be conquerour? Then vengeance light on them that made me so, And ther's another farewell ere I goe. Enough, enough, I had my death before.