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 0.78 · 494 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Faith my Lord I did but dream, and dreams you say prove not always true: they may hold in a good sword, but not in a good song: the truth is, I ha' lost my voice. Lost thy voice, how? With dreaming faith but here's a couple of sirenical rascals shall enchant ye: What shall they sing my good Lord? Sing of the nature of women, and then the song shall be surely full of variety, old crotchets and most sweet closes; it shall be humorous, grave, fantastic, amorous, melancholy, sprightly, one in all, and all in one. All in on? by'r Lady too many sing, my speech grows culpable of unthrifty idleness, sing. A, so. so, sing, I am heavy, walk of, I shall talk in my sleep walk of. Brief, brief, who? the Duke? good heaven that fools should stumble upon greatness? do not sleep duke, give ye good morrow: must be brief Duke. I am feed to murder thee, start not; Mendozo, Mendozo hired me, her's his gold, his Pistol, crossbow, Sword, 'tis all as firm as earth: O fool, fool, choked with the common maze of easy Idiots, credulity make him thine heir, what thy sworn murderer? O can it be? Can? Discovered he not Ferneze? Yes, but why? but why? for love to thee, much, much, to be revenged upon his rival, who had thrust his jaws awry, who being slain supposed by thine own hands; defended by his sword, made thee most loathsome, him most gracious, with thy loose Princes, thou closely yielding egress and regress to her, madest him heir, whose hot unquiet lust straight toused thy sheets, and now would seize thy state, politician, wise man, death to be led to the stake, like a Bull by the horns to make even kindness cut a gentle throat, life, why art thou numbed: Thou foggy dullness speak? lives not more faith in a home thrusting tongue, then in these fencing tip tap Courtiers. Lord Malevole, if this be true If? come shade thee with this disguise, if? thou shalt handle it, he shall thank thee for killing thyself, come follow my directions, and thou shalt see strange sleights. World whether wilt thou? Why to the Devil: come, the morn grows late. A steady quickness is the soul of state. Medam, Medam, are you stirring madam, if you be stirring Medam, if I thought I should disturb ye. My Lady is up forsooth. A, pretty boy, faith how old art thou? I think fourteen. Nay, and ye be in the teens, are ye a gentleman borne, do you know me, my name is Medam Maquerelle, I lie in the old coney Court. See here the Ladies. A fair day to ye Maquerelle. Is the Duchess up yet sentinel? O Ladies, the most abominable mischance, O dear Ladies the most piteous disaster, Farneze was taken last night in the Duchess Chamber: Alas the Duke catched him and killed him.
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)
Faith my Lorde I did but dreame, and dreames you say prooue not alwayes true: they may hold in a good sworde, but not in a good song: the truth is, I ha lost my voyce. Lost thy voyce, how? With dreaming faith but here's a couple of Syrenicall rascal shall inchaunt yee: What shall they singe my good Lorde? Sing of the nature of women, and then the song shall be suely full of varietie, olde crochets and most sweet closes; it shall be humerous, graue, fantastick, amorous, melancholy, sprightly, one in all, and all in one. All in on? Bir Lady too many sing, my speech growes culpable of vnthriftie idlenesse, sing. A, so. so, sing, I am heauie, walke of, I shall talke in my sleepe walke of. Briefe, briefe, who? the Duke? good heauen that fooles should stumble vpon greatnesse? do not sleepe duke, giue yee good morrow: must be briefe Duke. I am feed to murther thee, start not; Mendozo, Mendozo hired me, hr's his gold, his Pistoll, Crosbowe, Sword, tis all as firme as earth: O foole, foole, choakt with the common maze of easie Ideots, credulity make him thine heire, what thy sworne murderer? O can it be? Can? Discouered he not Ferneze? Yes, but why? but why? for loue to thee, much, much, to be reueng'd vpon his riuall, who had thrust his iawes awrye, who being slaine supposed by thine owne hands; defended by his sword, made thee most loathsome, him most gratious, with thy loose Princes, thou closely yeelding egresse and regresse to hir, madest him heire, whose hot vnquiet lust straight towzd thy sheetes, and now would seaze thy state, polititian, wise man, death to be led to the stake, like a Bull by the hornes to make euen kindnes cut a gentle throate, life, why art thou numb'd: Thou foggie dulnesse speake? liues not more faith in a home thrusting tongue, then in these fencing tip tap Courtiers. Lord Maleuole, if this be true If? come shade thee with this disguise, if? thou shalt handle it, he shall thanke thee for killing thy selfe, come follow my directions, and thou shalt see strange sleights. World whether wilt thou? Why to the Divell: come, the morne growes late. A steady quicknes is the soule of state. Medam, Medam, are you stirring Medame, if you be stirring Medam, if I thought I should disturbe yee. My Lady is vp forsooth. A, pretty boy, faith how old art thou? I thinke foureteene. Nay, and yee be in the teens, are yee a gentleman borne, do you know me, my name is Medam Maquerelle, I lye in the old Cunny Court. See heere the Ladyes. A faire day to yee Maquerelle. Is the Dutches vp yet Centinell? O Ladies, the most abhominable mischance, O deare Ladies the most piteous disaster, Farneze was taken last night in the Dutches Chamber: Alas the Duke catcht him and kild him.