Antonio's Revenge (2 Antonio and Mellida) · chunk 13 of 29
Marston, John · published 1602 · first performed or written 1602 (Annals) tragedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T33 Fathers, daughters and marriage negotiat · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T33: daughter, marriage, father, love, davus, matter, son, chremes, wife, mother.
How now sweet son? good youth, what dost thou? Weep, weep. Dost nought but weep, weep? Yes mother, I do sigh, and wring my hands, Beat my poor breast, and wreathe my tender arms. Hark ye; I'll tell you wondrous strange, strange news. What my good boy, stark mad? I am not. Alas, is that strange news? Strange news? why mother, is't not wondrous strange I am not mad? I run not frantic, ha? Knowing my father's trunk scarce cold, your love Is sought by him that doth pursue my life? Seeing the beauty of creation, Antonio's bride, pure heart, defamed, and stood Under the hatches of obscuring earth. Heu quo labour, quo vota ceciderunt mea! Good evening to the fair Antonio, Most happy fortune, sweet succeeding time, Rich hope: think not thy fate a bankrupt though umh, the devil in his good time and tide forsake thee. How now? hark ye Prince. God be with you. Nay, noble blood, I hope ye not suspect Suspect, I scorn't. Here's cap & leg; good night: Thou that wants power, with dissemblance fight. Madam, O that you could remember to forget I had a husband and a happy son. Most powreful beauty, that enchanting grace Talk not of beauty, nor enchanting grace. My husband's dead, my son's distraught, accursed. Come, I must vent my griefs, or heart will burst. she's gone (& yet she's here) she hath left a print Of her sweet graces fixed within my heart, As fresh as is her face. I'll marry her. she's most fair, true, most chaste, most false: because Most fair, 'tis firm I'll marry her. MY Lord, Ha, Strotzo, my other soul; my life, dear, hast thou steeled the point of thy resolve? Wilt not turn edge in execution? No. Do it with rare passion, and present thy guilt, As if 'twere wrung out with thy conscience gripe. Swear that my daughter's innocent of lust, And that Antonio bribed thee to defame Her maiden honour, on inveterate hate Unto my blood; and that thy hand was feed By his large bounty, for his father's death. Swear plainly that thou choked'st Andrugio, By his sons only egging. Rush me in Whilst Mellida prepares herself to die: Halter about thy neck, and with such sighs, Laments and acclamations lyfen it, As if impulsive power of remorse I'll weep. ay, ay, fall on thy face and cry; why suffer you So lewd a slave as Strotzo is to breath? I'll beg a strangling, grow importunate As if thy life were loathsome to thee: than I Catch straight the cords end; and, as much incensed With thy damned mischiefs, offer a rude hand, As ready to gird in thy pipe of breath: But on the sudden straight I'll stand amazed, And fall in exclamations of thy virtues. Applaud my agonies, and penitence. Thy honest stomach, that could not digest The crudities of murder: but surcharged, Vomited'st them up in Christian piety. Then clip me in your arms.
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)
How now sweete sonne? good youth, what dost thou? Weepe, weepe. Dost naught but weepe, weepe? Yes mother, I do sigh, and wring my hands, Beat my poore breast, and wreath my tender armes. Harke yee; Ile tel you wondrous strange, strāge news. What my good boy, starke mad? I am not. Alas, is that strange newes? Strange news? why mother, is't not wondrous strange I am not mad? I run not frantick, ha? Knowing my fathers trunke scarce colde, your loue Is sought by him that doth pursue my life? Seeing the beautie of creation, Antonio's bride, pure heart, defam'd, and stoad Vnder the hatches of obscuring earth. Heu quo labor, quo vota ceciderunt mea! Good euening to the faire Antonio, Most happie fortune, sweete succeeding time, Rich hope: think not thy fate a bankrout though Vmh, the diuell in his good time and tide forsake thee. How now? harke yee Prince. God be with you. Nay, noble blood, I hope yee not suspect Suspect, I scorn't. Here's cap & leg; good night: Thou that wants power, with dissemblance fight. Madam, O that you could remēber to forget I had a husband and a happie sonne. Most powreful beautie, that inchanting grace Talke not of beautie, nor inchanting grace. My husband's deade, my son's distraught, accurst. Come, I must vent my griefes, or heart will burst. Shee's gone (& yet she's here) she hath left a print Of her sweete graces fixt within my heart, As fresh as is her face. Ile marrie her. Shee's most fair, true, most chaste, most false: because Most faire, tis firme Ile marrie her. MY Lord, Ha, Strotzo, my other soule; my life, Deare, hast thou steel'd the point of thy resolue? Wilt not turne edge in execution? No. Doe it with rare passion, and present thy guilt, As if twere wrung out with thy conscience gripe. Sweare that my daughter's innocent of lust, And that Antonio brib'd thee to defame Her maiden honour, on inueterate hate Vnto my bloode; and that thy hand was feed By his large bountie, for his fathers death. Sweare plainly that thou chok'tst Andrugio, By his sons onely egging. Rush me in Whil'st Mellida prepares her selfe to die: Halter about thy necke, and with such sighs, Laments and acclamations lyfen it, As if impulsiue power of remorse Ile weepe. I, I, fall on thy face and cry; why suffer you So lewde a slaue as Strotzo is to breath? Ile beg a strangling, growe importunate As if thy life were loathsome to thee: then I Catch straight the cords end; and, as much incens'd With thy damn'd mischiefes, offer a rude hand, As readie to girde in thy pipe of breath: But on the sodaine straight Ile stand amaz'd, And fall in exclamations of thy vertues. Applaud my agonies, and penitence. Thy honest stomack, that could not disgest The crudities of murder: but surcharg'd, Vomited'st them vp in Christian pietie. Then clip me in your armes.