Middleton, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T40 Sin, guilt and violent loss within famil typicality 0.80 · 487 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
Has greatly moved me. Much to blame i'faith. But i'll recover, to his ruin: 'twas told me lately, I know not whether falsely, that you'd a brother, Who I, yes my good Lord, I have a brother How chance the Court near saw him? of what nature? How does he apply his hours? Faith to curse Fates, Who, as he thinks, ordained him to be poor, Keeps at home full of want and discontent. There's hope in him, for discontent and want Is the best clay to mould, a villain off; Hippolito, wish him repair to us, If there be aught in him to please our blood, For thy sake we'll advance him, and build fair His meanest fortunes: for it is in us To rear up Towers from cottages. It is so my Lord, he will attend your honour, But he's a man, in whom much melancholy dwells. Why the better: bring him to Court. With willingness and speed, Whom he cast off e'en now, must now succeed, Brother disguise must off, In thine own shape now, i'll prefer thee to him: How strangely does himself work to undo him. This fellow will come fitly, he shall kill, That other slave, that did abuse my spleen, And made it swell to Treason, I have put Much of my heart into him, he must die. He that knows great men's secrets and proves slight, That man near lives to see his Beard turn white: I he shall speed him: I'll employ thee brother, Slaves are but Nails, to drive out one another? He being of black condition, suitable To want and ill content, hope of preferment Will grind him to an Edge— The Nobles enter. Good days unto your honour. My kind Lords, I do return the like, Saw you my Lord the Duke? My Lord and Father, is he from Court? he's sure from Court, But where, which way, his pleasure took we know not, Nor can we hear on't. Here come those should tell, Saw you my Lord and Father? Not since two hours before noon my Lord, And then he privately rid forth. Oh he's rod forth. 'twas wondrous privately, There's none i'th' Court had any knowledge on't. His Grace is old, and sudden, 'tis no treason To say, the Duke my Father has a humour, Or such a Toy about him; what in us Would appear light, in him seems virtuous. 'tis Oracle my Lord. So, so, all's as it should be, you're yourself. How that great-villain puts me to my shifts. He that did lately, in disguise reject thee; Shall now thou art thyself, as much respect thee. 'twill be the quainter fallacy; but brother, 'sfoot what use will he put me to now thinkst thou? Nay you must pardon me in that, I know not: Has some employment for you: but what 'tis He and his Secretary the Devil knows best.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T36 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Has greatly moou'd me. Much to blame ifaith. But ile recouer, to his ruine: twas told me lately, I know not whether falslie, that you'd a brother, Who I, yes my good Lord, I haue a brother How chance the Court neere saw him? of what nature? How does he apply his houres? Faith to curse Fates, Who, as he thinkes, ordaind him to be poore, Keepes at home full of want and discontent. There's hope in him, sor discontent and want Is the best clay to mould, a villaine off; Hippolito, wish him repaire to vs, If there be ought in him to please our bloud, For thy sake weele aduance him, and build faire His meanest fortunes: for it is in vs To reare vp Towers from cottages. It is so my Lord, he will attend your honour, But hees a man, in whom much melancholy dwels. Why the better: bring him to Court. With willingnesse and speed, Whom he cast off een now, must now succeed, Brother disguise must off, In thine owne shape now, ile prefer thee to him: How strangely does himselfe worke to vndo him. This fellow will come fitly, he shall kill, That other slaue, that did abuse my spleene, And made it swell to Treason, I haue put Much of my heart into him, hee must dye. He that knowes great mens secrets and proues slight, That man nere liues to see his Beard turne white: I he shall speede him: Ile employ thee brother, Slaues are but Nayles, to driue out one another? Hee being of black condition, sutable To want and ill content, hope of preferment Will grinde him to an Edge—The Nobles enter. Good dayes vnto your honour. My kinde Lords, I do returne the like, Sawe you my Lord the Duke? My Lord and Father, is he from Court? Hees sure from Court, But where, which way, his pleasure tooke we know not, Nor can wee heareont. Here come those should tell, Sawe you my Lord and Father? Not since two houres before noone my Lord, And then he priuately ridde forth. Oh hees rod forth. Twas wondrous priuately, Theres none ith Court had any knowledge ont. His Grace is old, and sudden, tis no treason To say, the Duke my Father has a humor, Or such a Toye about him; what in vs Would appeare light, in him seemes vertuous. Tis Oracle my Lord. So, so, all's as it should be, y'are your selfe. How that great-villaine puts me to my shifts. Hee that did lately, in disguize reiect thee; Shall now thou art thy selfe, as much respect thee. Twill be the quainter fallacie; but brother, Sfoote what vse will hee put me to now thinkst thou? Nay you must pardon me in that, I know not: Has some employment for you: but what tis Hee and his Secretary the Diuell knowes best.