Heywood, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1603 [Feb 12-Mar 6, payment] (Annals) tragedy · Worcester's Men unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Stay, let me pause a while: Oh God, oh God, that it were possible To undo things done, to call back yesterday; That time could turn up his swift sandy glass, To untell the days, and to redeem these hours: Or that the sun Could rising from the West, draw his coach backward Take from the account of time so many minutes Till he had all these seasons called again, Those minutes and those actions done in them, Even from her first offence, that I might take her As spotless as an Angel in my arms, But oh: I talk of things impossible, And cast beyond the moon, God give me patience, For I will in to wake them. Here's patience perforce, He needs must trot afoot that tires his horse. I thank thee maid, thou like the angel's hand Hast stayed me from a bloody sacrifice: Go villain, and my wrongs sit on thy soul As heavy as this grief doth upon mine: When thou record'st my many courtesies, And shalt compare them with thy treacherous heart, Lay them together, weigh them equally, twill be revenge enough, go, to thy friend A Iudas, pray, pray, lest I live to see Thee Iudas like, hanged on an Elder-tree. O by what word, what title, or what name Shall I entreat your pardon: pardon: oh, I am as far from hoping such sweet grace As Lucifer from heaven: to call you husband, Oh me most wretched; I have lost that name I am no more your wife. 'sblood sir she sounds. Spare thou thy tears, for I will weep for thee; And keep thy countenance, for I'll blush for thee; Now I protest I think 'tis I am tainted, For I am most ashamed, and 'tis more hard For me to look upon thy guilty face, Then on the suns clear brow, what wouldst thou speak? I would I had no tongue, no ears, no eyes, No apprehension, no capacity, When do you spurn me like a Dog? when tread me Under your feet? when drag me by the hair? Though I deserve a thousand thousand fold. More than you can inflict: yet once my husband, For womanhood to which I am ashamed, Though once an ornament, even for his sake That hath redeemed our souls, mark not my face Nor hack me with your sword, but let me go Perfect and undeformed to my tomb. I am not worthy that I should prevail In the least suit, no not to speak to you, Nor look on you, nor to be in your presence: Yet as an abject this one suit I crave, This granted I am ready for my grave. My God with patience arm me: rise, nay rise, And I'll debate with thee: Was it for want Thou play'dst the strumpet? Wast thou not supplied With every pleasure, fashion, and new toy, Nay even beyond my calling. I was. Was it then disability in me, Or in thine eye seemed he a properer man?
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)
Stay, let me pause a while: Oh God, oh God, that it were possible To vndo things done, to cal back yesterday; That time could turne vp his swift sandy glasse, To vntel the daies, and to redeeme these howres: Or that the sunne Could rising from the West, draw his coach backward Take from the account of time so many mnutes Til he had al these seasons cald againe, Those minutes and those actions done in them, Euen from her first offence, that I might take her As spotles as an Angel in my armes, But oh: I talke of things impossible, And cast beyond the moone, God giue me patience, For I wil in to wake them. Heres patience perforce, He needs must trot a foot that tyres his horsse. I thanke thee maid, thou like the Angels hand Hast staied me from a bloody sacrifice: Go villen, and my wrongs sit on thy soule As heauy as this griefe doth vpon mine: When thou recordst my many curtesies, And shalt compare them with thy trecherous hart, Lay them together, weygh them equally, Twilbe reuenge inough, go, to thy friend A Iudas, pray, pray, least I liue to see Thee Iudas like, hang`d on an Elder-tree. O by what word, what title, or what name Shal I intreat your pardon: pardon: oh, I am as far from hoping such sweet grace As Lucifer from heauen: to cal you husband, Oh me most wretched; I haue lost that name I am no more your wife. Sblood sir she sounds. Spare thou thy teares, for I wil weepe for thee; And keepe thy countenance, for Ile blush for thee; Now I protest I thinke tis I am tainted, For I am most asham`d, and tis more hard For me to looke vpon thy guilty face, Then on the suns cleare brow, what wouldst thou speake? I would I had no tongue, no eares, no eies, No aprehension, no capacity, When do you spurne me like a Dog? when tread me Vnder your feet? when drag me by the haire? Though I deserue a thousand thousand fold. More then you can inflict: yet once my husband, For womanhood to which I am ashamd, Though once an ornament, euen for his sake That hath redeemd our soules, marke not my face Nor hacke me with your sword, but let me go Perfect and vndeformed to my tomb. I am not worthy that I should preuaile In the least sute, no not to speake to you, Nor looke on you, nor to be in your presence: Yet as an abiect this one sute I craue, This granted I am ready for my graue. My God with patience arme me: rise, nay rise, And Ile debate with thee: Was it for want Thou plaiedst the strumpet? Wast thou not supplied With euery pleasure, fashion, and new toy, Nay euen beyond my calling. I was. Was it then dissability in me, Or in thine eie seemd he a properer man?