Antonio's Revenge (2 Antonio and Mellida) · chunk 24 of 29
Marston, John · published 1602 · first performed or written 1602 (Annals) tragedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 465 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
ANTONIO, kiss my foot: I honour thee, In laying thwart my blood upon thy breast. I tell thee boy, he was Pandulpho's son: And I do grace thee with supporting him, Young man. The domineering Monarch of the earth, He who hath nought that fortune's gripe can seize, He who is all impregnably his own, He whose great heart heaven can not force with force, Vouchsafes his love. Non servio Deo, sed assentio. I ha' lost a good wife. Didst find her good, or didst thou make her good? If found, thou mayst refined, because thou hadst her. If made, the work is lost: but thou that mad'st her liv'st yet as cunning. Hast lost a good wife? Thrice blessed man that lost her whilst she was good, Fair, young, unblemished, constant, loving, chaste. I tell thee youth, age knows, young loves seem graced, Which with grey cares, rude jars, are oft defaced. But she was full of hope. May be, may be: but that, which may be, stood, Stands now without all may; she died good, And dost thou grieve? I ha' lost a true friend. I live encompassed with two blessed souls. Thou lost a good wife, thou lost a true friend, ha? Two of the rarest lendings of the heavens: But lendings: which at the fixed day of pay Set down by fate, thou must restore again. O what unconscionable souls are here? Are you all like the spoke-shaves of the Church? Have you no maw to restitution? Hast lost a true friend, cuz? than thou hadst one. I tell thee youth, 'tis all as difficult To find true friend in this apostate age (That balks all right affiance twixt two hearts) As 'tis to find a fixed modest heart, Under a painted breast. Lost a true friend? O happy soul that lost him whilst he was true. Believe it cuz, I to my tears have found, Oft durts respect makes firmer friends unsound. You have lost a good son. Why there's the comfort on't, that he was good: Alas, poor innocent. Why weeps mine uncle? Ha, dost ask me why? ha? ha? Good cuz, look here. Man will break out, despite Philosophy. Why, all this while I ha' but played a part, Like to some boy, that acts a Tragedy, Speaks burly words, and raves out passion: But, when he thinks upon his infant weakness, He droops his eye. I spoke more than a god; Yet am less than a man. I am the miserablest soul that breathes. 'Slid, sir ye lie: by th'heart of grief, thou liest. I scorn't that any wretched should survive, Outmounting me in that Superlative, Most miserable, most unmatched in woe: Who dare assume that, but Antonio? willt still be so? and shall you bloodhound live?
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)
ANTONIO, kisse my foote: I honour thee, In laying thwart my blood vpon thy breast. I tell thee boy, he was Pandulphos sonne: And I doe grace thee with supporting him, Young man. The dominering Monarch of the earth, He who hath naught that fortunes gripe can seize, He who is all impregnably his owne, Hee whose great heart heauen can not force with force, Vouchsafes his loue. Non seruio Deo, sed assentio. I ha lost a good wife. Didst finde her good, or didst thou make her good? If found, thou maist refinde, because thou hadst her. If made, the worke is lost: but thou that mad'st her Liu'st yet as cunning. Hast lost a good wife? Thrice blessed man that lost her whilst she was good, Faire, young, vnblemisht, constant, louing, chaste. I tell thee youth, age knows, yong loues seeme grac't, VVhich with gray cares, rude iarres, are oft defac't. But shee was full of hope. May be, may be: but that, which may be, stood, Stands now without all may; she died good, And dost thou grieue? I ha lost a true friend. I liue incompast with two blessed soules. Thou lost a good wife, thou lost a trew friend, ha? Two of the rarest lendings of the heauens: But lendings: which at the fixed day of pay Set downe by fate, thou must restore againe. O what vnconscionable soules are here? Are you all like the spoke-shaues of the Church? Haue you no mawe to restitution? Hast lost a true friend, cuz? then thou hadst one. I tell thee youth, tis all as difficult To finde true friend in this apostate age (That balkes all right affiance twixt two hearts) As tis to finde a fixed modest heart, Vnder a painted breast. Lost a true friend? O happie soule that lost him whilst he was true. Beleeue it cuz, I to my teares haue found, Oft durts respect makes firmer friends vnsounde. You haue lost a good sonne. Why there's the cōfort ont, that he was good: Alas, poore innocent. Why weepes mine vncle? Ha, dost aske me why? ha? ha? Good cuz, looke here. Man will breake out, despight Philosophie. Why, all this while I ha but plaid a part, Like to some boy, that actes a Tragedie, Speakes burly words, and raues out passion: But, when he thinks vpon his infant weaknesse, He droopes his eye. I spake more then a god; Yet am lesse then a man. I am the miserablest sowle that breathes. S'lid, sir ye lye: by th'heart of griefe, thou lyest. I scorn't that any wretched should suruiue, Outmounting me in that Superlatiue, Most miserable, most vnmatcht in woe: Who dare assume that, but Antonio? Wilt still be so? and shall you blood-hound liue?