Marston, John / Webster, 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 · 528 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
My hearts 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 & fishmongers, come a cape a pe, 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 Ferne● ae● death gave me states life: tut we are politic, he must not live now. No reason mary: but how must he die now? My utmost project is to murder the Duke, that I might have his state, because he makes me his heir; to banish the duchess, that I might be rid of a cunning Lacedaemonian, because I know Florence will forsake her, and then to marry Maria the banished duke Altofronts wife, that her friends might strengthen me and my faction; this is all law. Do you love Maria? Faith no great affection, but as wise men do love great women, to ennoble their blood, and augment their revenue ● to accomplish this now, thus now. The Duke is in the forest next the Sea, single him, kill him, hurl him in the main, and proclaim thou sawest wolves eat him. Umh, not so good: me thinks when he is slain, to get some hypocrite, some dangerous wretch that's muffled, or with feigned holiness, to swear he heard the duke on some steep cliff lament his wife's dishonour, and in an agony of his hearts torture hurled his groaning sides into the swollen sea: This circumstance well made, sounds probable: and hereupon the Dutches. May well be banished: O unpeerable invention stare, Thou god of policy, it honeys, me. Then fear not for the wife of Altofront, I'll close to her. Thou shalt, thou shalt, our excellency is pleased: why wert not thou an Emperor? when we are Duke, i'll make thee some great man sure. Nay, make me some rich knave, and 'llle make myself some great man. In thee be all my spirit, retain ten souls, unite thy virtual powers; resolve, ha, remember greatness: heart, farewell The fate of all my hopes in thee doth dwell. Celzo, didst hear? O heaven, didst hear? Such devilish mischief, sufferest thou the world Carouse damnation even with greedy swallow, And still dost wink, still does thy vengeance slumber▪ If now thy brows are clear, when will they thunder▪ The dogs are at a fault. Would God nothing but the dogs were at it? let the Deer pursue safely, the dogs follow the game, and do you follow the dogs; as for me, 'tis unfit one beast should hunt an other; I ha' one chaseth me: and 't please you, I would be rid of you a little. Would your grief would as soon leave you as we to quietness.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 857–886 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 22 of 38 in this edition
Length
528 words · 712 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T0 — Court life: dukes, favour and honourcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.840 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
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)
My hearts wish, my soules desire, my fantasies dreame, My blouds longing, the onely height of my hopes, how O God how? ô how my vnited spirites 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, Pistoll, Crossebow; so, so, ile doe it. Then we agree. As Lent & fishmongers, come a cape a pe, how in form 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 mee after his lifes full poynt. Vpon what merite? Merite! by heauen I horne him, onely Ferne ae death gaue me states life: tut we are politique, hee must not liue now. No reason mary: but how must he die now? My vtmost proiect is to murder the Duke, that I might haue his state, because he makes me his heire; to banish the duchesse, that I might be rid of a cunning Lacedemonian, because I know Florence will forsake her, and then to marry Maria the banished duke Altofrnts wife, that her friends might strengthen me and my faction; this is all lawe. Do you loue Maria? Faith no great affection, but as wise men do loue great women, to innoble their bloud, and augment their reuenew to accomplish this now, thus now. The Duke is in the forrest next the Sea, single him, kill him, hurle him in the maine, and proclaime thou sawest woolues eate him. Vm, not so good: mee thinkes when he is slaine, to get some hipocrite, some daungerous wretch thats muffled, or with fained holines, to sweare he heard the duke on some stiepe cliffe lament his wifes dishonour, and in an agony of his hearts torture hurled his groaning sides into the wolne sea: This circumstance wel made, sounds probable: and hereupon the Dutches. May well be banished: O vnpeerable invention tare, Thou god of pollicie, it honies, me. Then feare not for the wife of Alofront, ile close to her. Thou shalt, thou shalt, our excellencie is pleased: why wert not thou an Emperour? when we are Duke, ile make thee some great man sure. Nay, make me some rich knaue, and le make my selfe some great man. In thee be all my spirit, retaine tenne soules, vnite thy virtuall powers; resolue, ha, remember greatnes: heart, farewell "Th fate of all my hopes in thee doth dwell. Celzo, didst heare? O heauen, didst heare? Such diuelish mischiefe, sufferest thou the world Carowse damnation euen with greedie swallow, And still doost winke, still duz thy vengeance slumber▪ "If now thy browes are cleare, when will they thnder▪ The dogges are at a fault. Would God nothing but the dogges were at it? let the Deere pursue safely, the dogs follow the game, and doe you follow the dogges; as for me, tis vnfit one beast should hunt an other; I ha one chaseth me: and 't please you, I would be ridde of you a little. Would your griefe would as soone leaue you as we to quietnesse.