Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1606 [1605-1606] (Annals) comedy · King's Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.70 · 474 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Yes, I hear, CORBACCIO Hath made your patron, there, his heir. 'Tis true, By my device, drawn to it by my plot, With hope— Your patron should reciprocate? And, you have promised? For your good, I did, sir. Nay more, I told his son, brought, hid him here, Where he might hear his father pass the deed; Being persuaded to it, by this thought, sir, That the unnaturalness, first, of the act, And then, his fathers oft disclaiming in him, (Which I did mean t'help on) would sure enrage him To do some violence upon his parent. On which the law should take sufficient hold, And you be stated in a double hope: Truth be my comfort, and my conscience, My only aim was, to dig you a fortune Out of these two, old rotten sepulchres— I cry thee mercy, MOSCA.) Worth your patience, And your great merit, sir. And, see the change! Why? what success? Most hapless! you must help, sir. Whilst we expected th'old raven, in comes CORVINO'S wife, sent hither, by her husband— What, with a present? No, sir, on visitation: (I'll tell you how, anon) and, staying long, The youth, he grows impatient, rushes forth, Seizeth the lady, wound's me, makes her swear (Or he would murder her, that was his vow) T'affirm my patron to have done her rape: Which how unlike it is, you see! and, hence, With that pretext, he's gone, t'accuse his father; Defame my patron; defeat you— Where's her husband? Let him be sent for, straight. Sir, I'll go fetch him. Bring him, to the Scrutineo. Sir, I will. This must be stopped. O, you do nobly, sir. Alas, 'twas laboured all, sir, for your good; Nor, was there want of counsel, in the plot: But fortune can, at any time, o'erthrow The projects of a hundred learned clerk, sir. What's that? willt please you sir, to go along? Patron, go in, and pray for our success. Need makes devotion: heaven your labour bless. I Told you, sir, it was a plot: you see What observation is. You mentioned me, For some instructions: I will tell you, sir, (Since we are met, here in this height of Venice) Some few particulars, I have set down, Only for this meridian; fit to be known Of your crude traveler, and they are these. I will not touch, sir, at your phrase, or clothes, For they are old. Sir, I have better. Pardon I meant, as they are themes. O, sir, proceed: I'll slander you no more of wit, good sir. First, for your garb, it must be grave, and serious; Very reserved, and locked; not tell a secret, On any terms, not to your father; scarce A fable, but with caution; make sure choice Both of your company, and discourse; beware, You never spoke a truth— How!
nodes 2061–2133 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 33 of 53 in this edition
Length
474 words · 691 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.698 (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)
Yes, I heare, CORBACCIO Hath made your patron, there, his heire. 'Tis true, By my deuice, drawne to it by my plot, With hope— Your patron should reciprocate? And, you haue promis'd? For your good, I did, sir. Nay more, I told his sonne, brought, hid him here, Where he might heare his father passe the deed; Being perswaded to it, by this thought, sir, That the vnnaturalnesse, first, of the act, And then, his fathers oft disclaiming in him, (Which I did meane t'helpe on) would sure enrage him To doe some violence vpon his parent. On which the law should take sufficient hold, And you be stated in a double hope: Truth be my comfort, and my conscience, My onely ayme was, to dig you a fortune Out of these two, old rotten sepulchers— I cry thee mercy, MOSCA.) Worth your patience, And your great merit, sir. And, see the change! Why? what successe? Most haplesse! you must helpe, sir. Whilst we expected th'old rauen, in comes CORVINO'S wife, sent hither, by her husband— What, with a present? No, sir, on visitation: (I'le tell you how, anone) and, staying long, The youth, he growes impatient, rushes forth, Seizeth the lady, wound's me, makes her sweare (Or he would murder her, that was his vow) T'affirme my patron to haue done her rape: Which how vnlike it is, you see! and, hence, With that pretext, hee's gone, t'accuse his father; Defame my patron; defeat you— Where's her husband? Let him be sent for, streight. Sir, I'le goe fetch him. Bring him, to the Scrutineo. Sir, I will. This must be stopt. O, you do nobly, sir. Alasse, 'twas labor'd all, sir, for your good; Nor, was there want of counsel, in the plot: But fortune can, at any time, orethrow The proiects of a hundred learned clearkes, sir. What's that? Wilt please you sir, to goe along? Patron, go in, and pray for our successe. Neede makes deuotion: heauen your labor blesse. I Told you, sir, it was a plot: you see What obseruation is. You mention'd mee, For some instructions: I will tell you, sir, (Since we are met, here in this height of Venice) Some few particulars, I haue set downe, Onely for this meridian; fit to be knowne Of your crude traueller, and they are these. I will not touch, sir, at your phrase, or clothes, For they are old. Sir, I haue better. Pardon I meant, as they are theames. O, sir, proceed: I'le slander you no more of wit, good sir. First, for your garbe, it must be graue, and serious; Very reseru'd, and lock't; not tell a secret, On any termes, not to your father; scarse A fable, but with caution; make sure choise Both of your company, and discourse; beware, You neuer spake a truth— How!