Marston, John / Webster, John · published 1604 · first performed or written 1604 [1602-1604] (Annals) tragicomedy · Children of the Chapel (second) unassigned nearest T5 Christian faith, sin and salvation · 511 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T5: god, christ, david, sin, holy, israel, lord, mercy, sins, faith.
Wilt fall upon my chamber to morrow morn? As a raven to a dunghill; they say there's one dead here, pricked for the pride of the flesh. there he is, prithee bury him. O most willingly, I mean to turn pure Rochel churchman, I. Thou church man! why? why? Because I'll live lazily, rail upon authority, deny king's supremacy in things indifferent, and be a Pope in mine own parish. Wherefore dost thou think churches were made? To scour plowshares, I have seen oxen plow up Altars: Et nunc seges ubi Sion fuit. Strange. Nay monstrous, I ha' seen a sumptuous steeple turned to a stinking privy; more beastly, the sacredst place made a dogs kennel: nay most inhuman, the stoned coffins of long dead christians burst up, and made hogs-troughs— Hic sinis Pri●ni. Shall I ha' some sack and cheese at thy chamber? Good night good mischieuous incarnate diuel, good night Mendoza, ah you inhumane villaine, goodnight, night fub. Good night: to morrow morn. ay, I will come friendly Damnation, I will come: I do descry cross-points, honesty and courtship, straddle as far asunder, as a true Frenchman's legs. O! Proclamations, more proclamations. O a Surgeon. Hark, lust cries for a Surgeon, what news from Limbo? How doth the grand cuckold Lucifer? O help, help, conceal and save me. Thy shame more than thy wounds do grieve me far, Thy wounds but leave upon thy flesh some scar; But fame ne'er heals, still rankles worse and worse, Such is of uncontrolled lust the curse. Think what it is in lawless sheets to lie: But O Ferneze, what in lust to die. Then thou that shame respects, o fly converse With women's eyes, and lisping wantonness: Stick candles 'gainst a virgin walls white back, If they not burn, yet at the least they'll black. Come, i'll convey thee to a private port. Where thou shalt live (o happy man) from court. The beauty of the day begins to rise, From whose bright form Nights heavy shadow flies, Now gins close plots to work, the Scene grows full, And craves his eyes who hath a solid skull. 'tis grown to youth of day, how shall we waste this light? My heart's more heavy than a tyrant's crown. Shall we go hunt? Prepare for field. Would ye could be merry. Would God I could: Mendoza bid 'em haste: I would fain shift place; O vain relief! Sad souls may well change place, but not change grief: As Dear being struck fly thorough many solliss, Yet still the shaft sticks fast, so; A good old simile, my honest Lord. I am not much unlike to some sick man, That long desired hurtful drink; at last Swilles in and drinkes his last, ending at on Both life and thirst: O would I near had known My own dishonour! good God that men should Desire to search out that, which being found, kills all Their joy of life, to taste the tree of knowledge, And then be driven from out Paradise. Canst give me some comfort?
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)
Wilt fall vpon my chamber to morrowe morne? As a rauen to a dunghill; they say theres one dead heere, prickt for the pride of the flesh. there he is, prethee bury him. O most willingly, I mean to turne pure Rochel churchman, I. Thou church man! why? why? Because Ile liue lazily, raile vpon authoritie, deny kings supremacy in things indifferent, and be a Pope in mine owne parish. Wherefore doost thou thinke churches were made? To scowre plow-shares, I haue seene oxen plow vppe Altares: Et nunc seges vbi Sion fuit. Strange. Nay monstrous, I ha seen a sumptuous steeple turnd to a stincking priuie; more beastly, the sacredst place made a dogges kennell: nay most inhumane, the stoned coffins of long dead christians burst vp, and made hogs-troughs—Hic sinis Prini. Shall I ha some sacke and cheese at thy chamber? Good night good mischieuous incarnate diuel, good night Mendoza, ah you inhumane villaine, goodnight, night fub. Good night: to morrow morne. I, I will come riendly Damnation, I will come: I doe descry crosse-poynts, honesty and court-ship, straddle as farre asnder, as a true Frenchmans legges. O! Proclamations, more proclamations. O a Surgeon. Heark, lust cries for a Surgeon, what news from Limbo? How dooth the grand cuckolde Lucifer? O helpe, helpe, conceale and saue mee. Thy shame more than thy wounds do griee me farre, "Thy wounds but leaue vpon thy flesh some skarre; "But fame ne're heales, still ranckles worse and worse, "Such is of vncontrolled lust the curse. "Thinke what it is in lawlesse sheetes to lie: "But O Ferneze, what in lust to die. "Then thou that shame respects, ô flie conuerse "With womens eies, and lisping wantonnesse: "Sticke candles gainst a virgine walles white backe, "If they not burne, yet at the least thei'le blacke. Come, ile conuey thee to a priuate port. Where thou shalt liue (ô happy man) from court. The beautie of the day beginnes to rise, From whose bright forme Nights heauy shadow flies, Now ginnes close plots to worke, the Sceane growes full, And craues his eies who hath a solide skull. Tis growne to youth of day, how shall wee waste this light? My heart's more heauy than a tyrants crowne. Shall we goe hunt? Prepare for field. Would yee could be merry. Would God I could: Mendoza bid vm haste: I would faine shift place; O vaine reliefe! "Sad soules may well change place, but not change griefe: As Deere being strucke flie thorow many solls, Yet still the shaft stickes fast, so; A good olde simile, my honest Lord. I am not much vnlike to some sicke man, That long desired hurtfull drinke; at last Swilles in and drinkes his last, ending at on Both life and thirst: O would I nere had known My owne dishonour! good God that men should Desire to search out that, which being found, killes all Their ioy of life, to taste the tree of knowledge, And then be driuen from out Paradice. Canst giue me some comfort?