Antonio's Revenge (2 Antonio and Mellida) · chunk 22 of 29
Marston, John · published 1602 · first performed or written 1602 (Annals) tragedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T28 Marriage-making: weddings, brides and ma · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T28: married, marriage, wedding, day, bride, father, wife, luce, love, husband.
Sweet beauty, I could sigh as fast as you, But that I know that, which I weep to know, His fortunes should be such he dare not show His open presence. I know he loved me dearly, dearly, I: And since I cannot live with him, I die. Fore heaven, her speech falters, look she swoons. Convey her up into her private bed. I hope she'll live. If not Antonio's dead, the fool will follow too, he, he, he, Now works the scene; quick observation scud To coat the plot, or else the path is lost: My very self am gone, my way is fled: ay, all is lost, if Mellida is dead. Alberto, I am kind, Alberto, kind. I am sorry for thy couz, i'faith I am. Go, take him down, and bear him to his father: Let him be buried, look ye, I'll pay the priest. Please you to admit his father to the Court? No. Please you to restore his lands & goods again? No. Please you vouchsafe him lodging in the city? God's fut, no, thou odd uncivil fellow: I think you do forget sir, where you are. I know you do forget sir, where you must be. You are too malapert, i'faith you are. Your honour might do well to Peace Parasite, thou burr, that only sticks Unto the nap of greatness. Away with that same yelping cur, away. ay, I am gone: but mark, Piero, this. There is a thing called scourging Nemesis. God's neakes he has wrong, that he has: and 'Sfoot, and I were as he, I would bear no coals, law I, I begin to swell, puff. How now fool, fop, fool? Fool, fop, fool? Marry muff. I pray you, how many fools have you seen go in a suit of Satin? I hope yet, I do not look a fool i'faith: a fool? God's bones, I scorn't with my heel. S'neaks, and I were worth but three hundred pound a year more, I could swear richly: nay, but as poor as I am, I will swear the fellow hath wrong. Young Galeatzo? ay, a proper man. Florence, a goodly city: it shall be so. I'll marry her to him instantly. Then Genoa mine, by my Maria's match, Which I'll solemnize ere next setting Sun. Thus Venice, Florence, Genoa, strongly leagued. Excellent, excellent. I'll conquer Rome, Pop out the light of bright religion: And then, helter-skelter, all cock sure. Go to, 'tis just, the man hath wrong: go to. Go to, thou shalt have right. Go to Castilio, Clap him into the Palace dungeon: Lap him in rags, and let him feed on slime That smears the dungeon cheek. Away with him. In very good truth now, I'll near do so more; this one time and Away with him, observe it strictly, go. Why then, o wight, alas poor knight. O, welladay, sir Geoffrey. Let Poets roar, And all deplore: for now I bid you god night.
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)
Sweete beautie, I could sigh as fast as you, But that I knowe that, which I weepe to knowe, His fortunes should be such he dare not showe His open presence. I knowe he lou'd me dearely, dearely, I: And since I cannot liue with him, I dye. Fore heauen, her speach falters, look she swouns. Conuey her vp into her priuate bed. I hope sheele liue. If not Antonio's dead, the foole wil follow too, he, he, he, Now workes the sceane; quick obseruation scud To coate the plot, or els the path is lost: My verie selfe am gone, my way is fled: I, all is lost, if Mellida is deade. Alberto, I am kinde, Alberto, kinde. I am sorie for thy couz, ifaith I am. Goe, take him downe, and beare him to his father: Let him be buried, looke yee, Ile pay the priest. Please you to admit his father to the Court? No. Please you to restore his lands & goods againe? No. Please you vouchsafe him lodging in the city? Gods fut, no, thou odde vnciuill fellow: I thinke you doe forget sir, where you are. I know you doe forget sir, where you must be. You are too malepert, ifaith you are. Your honour might doe well to Peace Parasite, thou bur, that only sticks Vnto the nappe of greatnesse. Away with that same yelping cur, away. I, I am gone: but marke, Piero, this. There is a thing cald scourging Nemesis. Gods neakes he has wrong, that he has: and S'fut, and I were as he, I would beare no coles, lawe I, I begin to swell, puffe. How now foole, fop, foole? Foole, fop, foole? Marry muffe. I pray you, how manie fooles haue you seene goe in a suite of Sattin? I hope yet, I doe not look a foole ifaith: a foole? Gods bores, I scorn't with my heele. S'neaks, and I were worth but three hundred pound a yeare more, I could sweare richly: nay, but as poore as I am, I will sweare the fellowe hath wrong. Young Galeatzo? I, a proper man. Florence, a goodly citie: it shall be so. Ile marrie her to him instantly. Then Genoa mine, by my Mariaes match, Which Ile solemnize ere next setting Sun. Thus Venice, Florence, Genoa, strongly leagu'd. Excellent, excellent. Ile conquer Rome, Pop out the light of bright religion: And then, helter skelter, all cock sure. Goe to, tis iust, the man hath wrong: go to. Goe to, thou shalt haue right. Go to Castilio, Clap him into the Palace dungeon: Lappe him in rags, and let him feede on slime That smeares the dungeon cheeke. Away with him. In verie good truth now, Ile nere do so more; this one time and Away with him, obserue it strictly, goe. Why then, ô wight, alas poore knight. O, welladay, sir Gefferey. Let Poets roare, And all deplore: for now I bid you god night.