Middleton, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.78 · 497 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Content, I'm for any wether? heart step close, here he comes? My honoured Lord? Oh me; you both present. E'en newly my Lord, just as your Lordship entered now? about this place we had notice given he should be, but in some Came your honour private? Private enough for this: only a few Attend my coming out. Death rot those few. Stay yonder's the slave. Mass there's the slave indeed my Lord; 'tis a good child, he calls his Father slave. ay, that's the villain, the damned villain: softly, Tread easy. Puh, I warrant you my Lord, we'll stifle in our breaths. That will do well: Base rogue, thou sleepest thy last, 'tis policy, To have him killed in's sleep, for if he waked He would betray all to them. But my Lord. Ha, what sayst? Shall we kill him now he's drunk? I best of all. Why then he will near live to be sober? No matter, let him reel to hell. But being so full of liquour, I fear he will put out all the fire, Thou art a mad breast. And leave none to warm your Lordship's golls withal; For he that dies drunk, falls into hell fire like a Bucket a water, qush qush. Come be ready, nake your swords, think of your wrongs This slave has injured you. Troth so he has, and he has paid well for't. Meet with him now. You'll bear us out my Lord? Puh, am I a Lord for nothing think you, quickly, now. Sa, sa, sa: thump, there he lies. Nimbly done, ha? oh, villains, murderers, 'tis the old Duke my father. That's a jest. What stiff and cold already? O pardon me to call you from your names: 'tis none of your deed,— that villain Piato Whom you thought now to kill, has murdered him, And left him thus disguised. And no unlikely. O rascal was he not ashamed, To put the Duke into a greasy doublet. He has been cold and stiff who knows, how long? Marry that do I. No words I pray, off any thing intended: Oh my Lord. I would same have your Lordship think that we have small reason to prate. Faith thou sayst true? i'll forthwith send to Court, For all the Nobles, Bastard, duchess, all? How here by miracle we found him dead, And in his raiment that foul villain fled. That will be the best way my Lord, to clear us all: let's cast about to be clear. Ho, Nencio, Sordido, and the rest. My Lord. My Lord. Be witnesses of a strange spectacle: Choosing for private conference that sad room We found the Duke my father gealed in blood. My Lord the Duke— run hie thee Nencio, Startle the Court by signifying so much. Thus much by wit a deep Revenger can: When murders known to be the clearest man We're furthest off, and with as bold an eye, Survey his body as the standers by.
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)
Content, I'me for any wether? heart step closse, here hee comes? My honord Lord? Oh me; you both present. E'en newly my Lord, iust as your Lordship enterd now? about this place we had notice giuen hee should bee, but in some Came your honour priuate? Priuate inough for this: onely a few Attend my comming out. Death rotte those few. Stay yonder's the slaue. Masse there's the slaue indeed my Lord; Tis a good child, he calls his Father slaue. I, thats the villaine, the dambd villaine: softly, Tread easie. Puh, I warrant you my Lord, weele stiflle in our breaths. That will do well: Base roague, thou sleepest thy last, tis policie, To haue him killd in's sleepe, for if he wakt Hee would betray all to them. But my Lord. Ha, what sayst? Shall we kill him now hees drunke? I best of all. Why then hee will nere liue to be sober? No matter, let him reele to hell. But being so full of liquor, I feare hee will put out all the fire, Thou art a mad brest. And leaue none to warme your Lordships Gols withall; For he that dyes drunke, falls into hell fire like a Bucket a water, qush qush. Come be ready, nake your swords, thinke of your wrongs This slaue has iniur'd you. Troth so he has, and he has paide well fort. Meete with him now. Youle beare vs out my Lord? Puh, am I a Lord for nothing thinke you, quickly, now. Sa, sa, sa: thumpe, there he lyes. Nimbly done, ha? oh, villaines, murderers, Tis the old Duke my father. That's a iest. What stiffe and colde already? O pardon me to call you from your names: Tis none of your deed,—that villaine Piato Whom you thought now to kill, has murderd him, And left him thus disguizd. And no vnlikely. O ascall was he not ashamde, To put the Duke into a greasie doublet. He has beene cold and stiff who knowes, how long? Marry that do I. No words I pray, off any thing entended: Oh my Lord. I would same haue your Lordship thinke that we haue small reason to prate. Faith thou sayst true? ile forth-with send to Court, For all the Nobles, Bastard, Duchesse, all? How here by miracle wee found him dead, And in his rayment that foule villaine fled. That will be the best way my Lord, to cleere vs all: lets cast about to be cleere. Ho, Nencio, Sordido, and the rest. My Lord. My Lord. Be wittnesses of a strange spectacle: Choosing for priuate conference that sad roome We found the Duke my father gealde in bloud. My Lord the Duke—run hiethee Nencio, Startle the Court by signifying so much. Thus much by wit a deepe Reuenger can: When murders knowne to be the cleerest man We're fordest off, and with as bould an eye, Suruay his body as the standers by.