The Devil's Charter, or Pope Alexander the Sixth · chunk 25 of 45
Barnes, Barnabe · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · before the Court T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.72 · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
What wouldest thou more shall I descend? Show me the person by whose impious hand, Gismond Viselli, was done to death? Keep a firm station stir not for thy life. Out, out, no more no more, my soul dissolves. Say, say what wouldest thou more? descend, Beldachiensis, Berolanensis, Helioren, descend, descend, jubeo, mando, impero. Devil descendeth with thunder. etc. Out out alas Bernardo I am wounded, With grisly wounds and deep incurable. Comfort yourself in God's name blessed father. so long as no wounds of the body bleed. The cureless wounds I mean are of my body Wounds both of my soul and body: but Bernardo This is my comfort in calamity Some shall pack after them for company What's o'clock? Very near six by Saint Peter's bell Hast thee, then pass thee to my Pothecary, bid him provide those drugs I spoke for yesterday, and bear them in all haste to Dominico Giglio take you those letters with you which are here, bid him deliver them Lodowick Sforza's name her lustful Paramour; make haste and see that he dispatch it quickly, deliver him a purse from me for a token crammed with two hundred ducats, bid him be secret as he loves his life, hast and begone. Astor shall follow, I must have his Lands This thorn must be cut of being but tender Then cut it soon whilst it is young and slender, lest growing great it prick thee to the bone My lust importunes it and he shall die, Sons, Nephews, Daughters, Concubines, shall die. My conscience is turned mercies enemy, He that would rise to riches and renown Must not regard though he pull millions down. Where is his Holiness? where is my father? Alas your Son is slain; your hapless Son, My noble brother out alas, alas Is murdered: in tender passion Let curious search and inquisition Be made through Rome to find the murderers: I fear that Traitorous Iudas Cardinal Ascanio Sforza with his complices: I will not hold fraternity with him: And here behold my meaning blessed father: again these robes, take here this hat, And in these arms which I have buckled on I do forswear all offices of Church, Until I be revenged for his death. A foul red vengeance over hangs his head Whose heart indurate or whose devilish brain, Could execute conceive or meditate So foul a murder of an Innocent. Caraffa with Bentivoli give leave Somewhat I would in private have with Caesar. Caesar dissemble not for that were vain Whence comest thou. Directly from my Chamber. Where didst thou here this news. Fishers which found his body brought the news. Then he was drowned Caesar was he not? It seems he was. What by some Fisher. How should I know that. Sure by some subtle Fisher that laid nets For Candy's life and honour: but say truly, Was it thy brother. Are not you my father?
nodes 1550–1609 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 25 of 45 in this edition
Length
489 words · 657 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.717 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
What wouldest thou more shall I descend? Shew me the person by whose impious hand, Gismond Viselli, was done to death? Keepe a firme station stirre not for thy life. Out, out, no more no more, my soule disolues. Say, say what wouldest thou more? discend, Beldachiensis, Berolanensis, Helioren, discende, discend, iubeo, mando▪ impero. Deuill desedeth with thunder. &c. Out out alas Bernardo I am wounded, With grisly wounds and deepe incurable. Comfort your selfe in Gods name blessed father. Se long as noe wounds of the body bleed. The cureles wounds I meane are of my body Wounds both of my soule and body: but Bernardo This is my comfort in calamity Some shall packe after them for company Whats a clocke? Vey neere six by Saint Peters bell Hast thee, then passe thee to my Poticary, bid him prouide those drugges I spoke for yester-day, and beare them in all hast to Dominico Giglio take you those letters with you which are here, bid him deliuer them Lodowick Sforzaes name her lustfull Paramoure; make hast and see that he dispatch it quickly, deliuer him a purse from mee for a token cramd with two hundred ducates, bid him bee secreat as he loues his life, hast and begon. Astor shall follow, I must haue his Lands This thorne must be cut of being but tender Then cut it soone whilst it is yong and slender, Least growing great it prick thee to the bone My lust importunes it and he shall die, Sonnes, Nephewes, Daughters, Concubines, shall die. My conscience is turn'd mercies enemy, He that would rise to riches and renowne Must not regard though he pull millions downe. Where is his Holinesse? where is my father? Alas your Sonne is slaine; your haples Sonne, My noble brother out alas, alas Is murthered: in tender passion Let curious search and inquisition Be made through Rome to finde the murtherers: I feare that Traitrous Iudas Cardinall Ascio Sforza with his complecies: I wi not hould fraternity with him: An behold my meaning blessed father: gaine these robes, take here this hat, And in these armes which I haue bucled on I do forsweare al offices of Church, Vntill I be reuenged for his death. A foule red vengeance ouer hangs his head Whose heart indurate or whose diuilish braine, Could execute conceiue or meditate So foule a murther of an Innocent. Caraffa with Bentiuoli giue leaue Some-what I would in priuate haue with Caesar. Caesar desemble not for that were vaine Whence comest thou. Directly from my Chamber. Where didst thou here this newes. Fishers which found his body brought the newes. Then he was droun'd Caesar was he not? It seemes he was. What by some Fisher. How should I know that. Sure by some subtill Fisher that layd nets For Candies life and honor: but say truly, Was it thy brother. Are not you my father?