Antonio's Revenge (2 Antonio and Mellida) · chunk 18 of 29
Marston, John · published 1602 · first performed or written 1602 (Annals) tragedy · Children of Paul's (second) T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.72 · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Truly, very pathetical, and unvulgar. Pathetical, and unvulgar; words of worth, excellent words. In sooth, Madam, I have taken a murr, which makes my nose run most pathetically, and unvulgarly. Have you any Tobacco? Good signor, your song. Instantly, most unvulgarly, at your service. Truly, here's the most pathetical resin. Umh. In sooth, most knightly sung, & like sir Geoffrey. Why, look you Lady, I was wade a knight only for my voice; & a counsellor, only for my wit. I believe it. God night, gentle sir, god night. You will give me leave to take my leave of my mistress, and I will do it most famously in rhyme. Farewell, adieu: Saith thy love true, As to part loath. Time bids us part, Mine own sweet heart, God bless us both. God night Nutriche. Pages, leave the room. The life of night grows short, 'tis almost dead. O thou cold widow bed, sometime thrice blessed, By the warm pressure of my sleeping Lord: Open thy leaves, and whilst on thee I tread, Groan out. Alas, my dear Andrugio's dead. Amazing terror, what portent is this? DISLOYAL to our Hymeneal rites, What raging heat rains in thy strumpet blood? Hast thou so soon forgot Andrugio? Are our love-bands so quickly canceled? Where lives thy plighted faith unto this breast? O weak Maria! Go to, calm thy fears. I pardon thee, poor soul. O shed no tears. Thy sex is weak. That black incarnate fiend May trip thy faith, that hath o'erthrown my life: I was empoisoned by Piero's hand. join with my son, to bend up strained revenge. Maintain a seeming favour to his suit, Till time may form our vengeance absolute. See, unamazed, I will behold thy face, Outstare the terror of thy grim aspect, Daring the horrid'st object of the night. Look how I smoke in blood, reeking the steam Of foaming vengeance. O my soul's enthroned In the triumphant chariot of revenge. methinks I am all air, and feel no weight Of human dirt clog. This is Iulios blood. Rich music, father; this is Iulio's blood. Why lives that mother? Pardon ignorance. Fly dear Antonio: Once more assume disguise, and dog the Court In feigned habit, till Piero's blood May even o'erflow the brim of full revenge. Peace, and all blessed fortunes to you both. Fly thou from Court, be peerless in revenge: Sleep thou in rest, lo here I close thy couch. And now ye sooty coursers of the night, Hurry your chariot into hell's black womb. Darkness, make flight; Graves, eat your dead again: Let's repossess our shrouds. Why lags delay? Mount sparkling brightness, give the world his day. AWAY with this disguise in any hand. Fie, 'tis unsuiting to your elate spirit: Rather put on some transshaped cavalier, Some habit of a spitting Critic, whose mouth Voids nothing but gentile and unvulgar Rheum of censure: rather assume.
nodes 1065–1125 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 18 of 29 in this edition
Length
483 words · 731 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.719 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Truelie, verie patheticall, and vnuulgar. Patheticall, and vnuulgar; words of worth, excellent words. In sooth, Madam, I haue taken a murre, which makes my nose run most patheticallie, and vnvulgarlie. Haue you anie Tobacco? Good Signior, your song. Instantlie, most vnvulgarlie, at your seruice. Truelie, here's the most patheticall rozzen. Vmh. In sooth, most knightlie sung, & like sir Gefferey. Why, looke you Ladie, I was wade a knight only for my voice; & a counseller, only for my wit. I beleeue it. God night, gentle sir, god night. You will giue me leaue to take my leaue of my mistresse, and I will do it most famously in rime. Farewell, adieu: Saith thy loue true, As to part loath. Time bids vs parte, Mine owne sweete heart, God blesse vs both. God night Nutriche. Pages, leaue the roome. The life of night growes short, tis almost dead. O thou cold widdowe bed, sometime thrice blest, By the warme pressure of my sleeping Lord: Open thy leaues, and whilst on thee I treade, Groane out. Alas, my deare Andrugio's deade. Amazing terror, what portent is this? DISLOYAL to our Hymniall rites, What raging heat rains in thy strūpet blood? Hast thou so soone forgot Andrugio? Are our loue-bands so quickly cancelled? Where liues thy plighted faith vnto this breast? O weake Marya! Go to, calme thy feares. I pardon thee, poore soule. O shed no teares. Thy sexe is weake. That black incarnate fiende May trippe thy faith, that hath orethrowne my life: I was impoyson'd by Piero's hand. Ioyne with my sonne, to bend vp straind reuenge. Maintaine a seeming fauour to his suite, Till time may forme our vengeance absolute. See, vnamaz'd, I will beholde thy face, Outstare the terror of thy grimme aspect, Daring the horred'st obiect of the night. Looke how I smoake in blood, reeking the steame▪ Of foming vengeance. O my soule's inthroan'd In the tryumphant chariot of reuenge. Me thinks I am all ayre, and feele no waight Of humane dirt clogge. This is Iulios bloode. Rich musique, father; this is Iulio's blood. Why liues that mother? Pardon ignorance. Fly deare Antonio: Once more assume disguise, and dog the Court In fained habit, till Piero's blood May euen ore-flowe the brimme of full reuenge. Peace, and all blessed fortunes to you both. Fly thou from Court, be pearelesse in reuenge: Sleepe thou in rest, loe here I close thy couch. And now yee sootie coursers of the night, Hurrie your chariot into hels black wombe. Darkenesse, make flight; Graues, eat your dead again: Let's repossesse our shrowdes. Why lags delay? Mount sparkling brightnesse, giue the world his day. AWAY with this disguise in any hand. Fie, tis vnsuting to your elate spirite: Rather put on some transshap't caualier, Some habit of a spitting Critick, whose mouth Voids nothing but gentile and vnuulgar Rheume of censure: rather assume▪