Marston, John · published 1604 · first performed or written 1604 [1602-1604] (Annals) tragicomedy · Children of the Chapel (second) T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.84 · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
He does fly from public notice methinks, as a Hair does from hounds, the feet whereon he flies betrays him. I can track him Celzo: O my disguise fools him most powerfully: For that I seem a desperate malcontent He fain would clasp with me: he is the true slave, That will put on the most affected grace, For some vild second cause. he's here. Give place. Illo, ho ho ho, art there old true penny, Where hast thou spent thyself this morning? I see flattery in thine eyes, & damnation i'thy soul. Ha ye huge Rascal. Thou art very merry. As a scholar futuens gratis: How does the devil go with thee now. Malevole, thou art an arrant knave. Who I? I have been a Sergeant man. Thou art very poor. As Iob, an alchemist, or a Poet. The Duke hates thee. As Irishmen do bum-cracks. Thou hast lost his amity. As pleasing as Maids lose their virginity. Would thou wert of a lusty spirit, would thou wert noble. Why sure my blood gives me I am noble, sure I am of noble kind, for I find myself possessed with all their qualities: love Dogs, Dice and Drabs, scorn wit in stuff clothes, have beat my Shoemaker, knocked my sempstress, cuckold my pothecary, and undone my tailor. Noble, why not? since the Stoic said; Neminem servum non ex regibus, neminem regem non ex servis esse oriundum, only busy fortune towses, and the provident chances blends them together; I'll give you a simile: did you ere see a Well with 2. buckets, whilst one comes up full to be emptied, another goes down empty to be filled; such is the state of all humanity: why look you, I may be the son of some Duke, for believe me intemperate lascivious bastardy makes nobility doubtful, I have a lusty daring heart Mendoza. Let's grasp? I do like thee infinitely, wilt enact one thing for me? Shall I get by it? Command me, I am thy slave, beyond death and hell. Murder the Duke? My heart's wish, my soul's desire, my fantasies dream, My bloods longing, the only height of my hopes, how? O God how? O how my united spirits throng together, So strengthen my resolve. The Duke is now a hunting. Excellent, admirable, as the devil would have it, lend me, lend me, Rapier Pistol, crossbow: so, so, i'll do it. Then we agree. As Lent and Fishmongers, come a cape ape, how in form? Know that this weak brained duke, who only stands on Florence stilts, hath out of witless zeal made me his heir, and secretly confirmed the wreath to me after his life's full point. Upon what merit? Merit? by heaven I horn him, only Ferneze's death gave me state's life: tut we are politic, he must not live now. No reason marry: but how must he die now.
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
He do's flie frō publique notice me thinks, as a Haire do's from hounds, the feet wheron he flies betraies him. I can track him Celzo: O my disguise fooles him most powerfully: For that I seeme a desperate malecontent He faine would claspe with me: he is the true slaue, That will put on the most affected grace, For some vild second cause. Hees here. Giue place. Illo, ho ho ho, art there old true peny, Where hast thou spent thy selfe this morning? I see flattery in thine eyes, & damnation i'thy soule. Ha ye huge Rascal. Thou art very merry. As a scholler futuens gratis: How doz the deuill go with thee now. Maleuole, thou art an arrant knaue. Who I? I haue beene a Sergeant man. Thou art very poore. As Iob, an Alcumist, or a Poet. The Duke hates thee. As Irishmen do bum-cracks. Thou hast lost his amitie. As pleasing as Maids loose their virginitie. Would thou wert of a lustie spirit, would thou wert noble. Why sure my bloud giues me I am noble, sure I am of noble kinde, for I finde my selfe possessed with all their qualities: loue Dogs, Dice and Drabs▪ scorne witte in stuffe clothes, haue beate my Shoomaker, knockt my Sempstres, cuckold my Pottecary, and vndone my Taylor. Noble, why not? since the Stoick said; Neminem serm non ex regibus, neminem regem non ex seruis esse oriundum, only busie fortune towses, and the prouident chaunces blends them together; Ile giue you a symilie: did you ere see a Well with 2. buckets, whilst one comes vp full to be emptied, another goes downe emptie to be filled; such is the state of all humanitie: why looke you, I may be the sonne of some Duke, for beleeue me intemperate lasciuious bastardie makes nobility doubtfull, I haue a lusty daring hart Mendoza. Lets graspe? I doe like thee infinitely, wilt inact one thing for me? Shall I get by it? Commaund me, I am thy slaue, beyond death and hell. Murther the Duke? My harts wish, my soules desire, my fantasies dream, My blouds longing, the only haight of my hopes, how? O God how? O how my vnited spirits throng together, So strengthen my resolue. The Duke is now a hunting. Excellent, admirable, as the diuell would haue it, lend me, lend me, Rapier Pistol, Crosebow: so, so, ile do it. Then we agree. As Lent and Fishmongers, come a cape ape, how in forme? Know that this weake braind duke, who only stands on Florence stilts, hath out of witlesse zeale made me his heire, and secretly confirmed the wreathe to me after his lifes full point. Vpon what merit? Merit? by heauen I horne him, onely Fernezies death gaue me states life: tut we are politique, he must not liue now. No reason marry: but how must he dye now.