Antonio's Revenge (2 Antonio and Mellida) · chunk 5 of 29
Marston, John · published 1602 · first performed or written 1602 (Annals) tragedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 553 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
Verily, sir Geoffrey had a monstrous strange dream the last night. For methought I dreamed I was asleep, and methought the ground yawned and belched up the abominable ghost of a misshapen Simile, with two ugly Pages; the one called master, even as going before; and the other Monsieur, even so following after; whilst signor Simile stalked most prodigiously in the midst. At which I bewrayed the fearfulness of my nature: and being ready to forsake the fortress of my wit, start up, called for a clean shirt, eat a mess of broth, and with that I awaked. I pray thee peace. I tell you gentlemen, The frightful shades of night yet shake my brain: My gelid blood's not thawed: the sulphur damps, That flow in winged lightning 'bout my couch, Yet stick within my sense, my soul is great, In expectation of dire prodigies. Tut, my young Prince, let not thy fortunes see Their Lord a coward. He, that's nobly borne, Abhors to fear. Base fear's the brand of slaves. He that observes, pursues, slinks back for fright, Was never cast in mould of noble sprite. Tush, there's a fun will straight exhale these damps Of chilling fear. Come, shall's salute the bride? I pray the mix thy breath with his: Sing one of signor Renaldo's airs, To rouse the slumbering bride from gluttoning, In surfeit of superfluous sleep. Good signor, sing. What means this silence and unmoved calm! Boy, wind thy Cornet: force the leaden gates Of lazy sleep fly open, with thy breath, My Mellida not up? not stirring yet? umh. That voice, should be my sons Antonio's. Antonio? Here, who calls? here stands Antonio. Sweet son. Dear mother. Fair honour of a chaste and loyal bed, Thy father's beauty, thy sad mother's love, Were I as powerful as the voice of fate, felicity complete should sweet thy state: But all the blessings, that a poor banished wretch, Can power upon thy head, take gentle son: Live, gracious youth, to close thy mother's eyes, Loved of thy parents, till their latest hour: How cheers my Lord, thy father? O sweet boy, Part of him thus I clip, my dear, dear joy. Madam, last night I kissed his princely hand, And took a treasured blessing from his lips: O mother, you arrive in jubilee, And firm atonement of all boisterous rage: Pleasure, united love, protested faith, Guard my loved father, as sworn Pensioners: The Dukes are leagued in firmest bond of love, And you arrive even in the solstice, And highest point of sunshine happiness. Hark Madam, how you Cornet jerketh up His strained shrill accents, in the capering air; As proud to summon up my bright cheeked love. Now, mother, open wide expectation: Let lose your amplest sense, to entertain Th'impression of an object of such worth, That life's too poor to. Nay leave Hyperboles. I tell thee prince, that presence straight appears, Of which thou canst not form Hyperboles, The trophy of triumphing excellence: The heart of beauty, Mellida appears. See, look, the curtain stirs, shine nature's pride, Loves vital spirit, dear Antonio's bride. What villain bloods the window of my love? What slave hath hung you gory ensign up, In flat defiance of humanity? Awake thou fair unspotted purity. Death's at thy window, awake bright Mellida: Antonio calls.
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)
Verely, sir Gefferey had a monstrous strange dream the last night. For mee thought I dreamt I was asleepe, and me thought the ground yaun'd and belkt vp the abhominable ghost of a misshapen Simile, with two vgly Pages; the one called master, euen as going before; and the other Mounser, euen so following after; whil'st Signior Simile stalked most prodigiously in the midst. At which I bewrayed the fearefulnesse of my nature: and being readie to forsake the fortresse of my wit, start vp, called for a cleane shirt, eate a messe of broth, and with that I awakt. I pree thee peace. I tell you gentlemen, The frightfull shades of night yet shake my braine: My gellied blood's not thaw'd: the sulphur damps, That flowe in winged lightning 'bout my couch, Yet stick within my sense, my soule is great, In expectation of dire prodigies. Tut, my young Prince, let not thy fortunes see Their Lord a coward. He, thats nobly borne, Abhorres to feare. Base feare's the brand of slaues. Hee that obserues, pursues, slinks back for fright, Was neuer cast in mould of noble spright. Tush, there's a fun will straight exhale these damps Of chilling feare. Come, shal's salute the bride? I pree the mixe thy breath with his: Sing one of Signior Renaldo's ayres, To rouse the slumbring bride from gluttoning, In surfet of superfluous sleepe. Good Signior, sing. What meanes this silence and vnmooued calme! Boy, winde thy Cornet: force the leaden gates Of lasie sleepe fly open, with thy breath, My Mellida not vp? not stirring yet? vmh. That voice, should be my sonnes Antonio's. Antonio? Here, who cals? here stands Antonio. Sweete sonne. Deare mother. Faire honour of a chast and loyall bed, Thy fathers beautie, thy sad mothers loue, Were I as powrefull as the voice of fate, Felicitie compleat should sweete thy state: But all the blessings, that a poore banisht wretch, Can powre vpon thy heade, take gentle sonne: Liue, gratious youth, to close thy mothers eyes, Lou'd of thy parents, till their latest hower: How cheares my Lord, thy father? O sweet boy, Part of him thus I clip, my deare, deare ioy. Madam, last night I kist his princely hand, And tooke a treasur'd blessing from his lips: O mother, you arriue in Iubile, And firme attonement of all boystrous rage: Pleasure, vnited loue, protested faith, Guard my lou'd father, as sworne Pensioners: The Dukes are leagu'd in firmest bond of loue, And you arriue euen in the Solsticie, And highest point of sun-shine happinesse. Harke Madam, how you Cornet ierketh vp His straind shrill accents, in the capering ayre; As proud to summon vp my bright cheek't loue. Now, mother, ope wide expectation: Let loose your amplest sense, to entertaine Th'impression of an obiect of such worth, That life's too poore to▪ Nay leaue Hyperboles. I tel thee prince, that presence straight appears, Of which thou canst not forme Hyperboles, The trophy of tryumphing excellence: The heart of beautie, Mellida appeares. See, looke, the curtaine stirs, shine natures pride, Loues vitall spirit, deare Antonio's bride. What villaine bloods the window of my loue? What slaue hath hung you gorie ensigne vp, In flat defiance of humanitie? Awake thou faire vnspotted puritie. Death's at thy windowe, awake bright Mellida: Antonio cals.