Day, John · published 1608 · first performed or written 1604 [1604-1607] (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.82 · 503 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
The bane of murder is despair and hell. Was ever poor little knave put to his last trumps as I am? what shall I do now? my heart goes pit a pat in my belly like a pair of washing beetles, should a return again now, as my hand to a Lobster-pie a will, all the Fat were in the fire, but hark 'tis one o'clock, and just about this minute she should play the wagtail and stir. What trance was this? where am I? Oh she speaks, Fates and be good girls keep my master away, and let his man have a little sport with his mistress. What place is this? am I in heaven or no. No. What voice is that? is this place earth? Earth. Earth? how came I hither? do I live again? Live again. What voice is that? a woman or some youth? Youth. My fears will murder me, my powers are frighted. alas poor stirring ghost art over sprighted. Boy. mistress. Tell me. all and more anon. The sleepy drink hath played the honest man, What sleepy drink? how came I in this tomb? I'll tell you that in a more private room, Away I'll tell you a strange wonder, Then winter lightning, or Christmas thunder, Then to my father's trip and go, Nimble prevention on't runs woe. No more of mourning brother, we have laid Our timeless sorrows in a quiet grave, When men inter their comfort let them weep: Not when their crying charm is laid to sleep. Great Duke mine eyes are not thus great with tears, For our griefs funeral, but that her shame, And future scandal will out live her name, Come let mirth kill it, and to your discourse, Is our son grown unto that height of riot Your speeches intimate. I know the law, if I have wronged the Prince, I stand in compass of a praemunire, And he by writ of ad quod dampnum may, sue his recovery, I know the law. Nay his own letter partly grants as much, But note his subtle reason, here a writ's, That of set purpose a laid by himself, And played the part of a wild prodigal, Only to put your love unto the test, On which advantage to increase his wealth, You did endear him to society, Of careless wantons and light courtesans, Made secret vaults and cellars under ground. Non tenet in bocardo I demur, Do but send out your iterum summoneas, Or capias vt legatum to attach, And bring him viva voce tongue to tongue, And vi & armis I'll revenge this wrong. Leave that to trial, here a further write, That by his skill and practise in black Art, He hath found out and by much toil redeemed, My daughter from the Turkish servitude. redeemed your daughter! an apparent error, Which you by way of melius inquirendum. May soon discuse, he ran some home your daughter As sure as I made cellars under ground, Or played his pandar.
nodes 1358–1419 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 26 of 31 in this edition
Length
503 words · 652 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.820 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
The bane of murder is diſpaire and hell. Was euer poore little knaue put to his laſt trumps as I am? what ſhall I do now▪ my heart goes pit a pat in my belly like a paire of washing beetles, ſhould a returne again now, as my hand to a Lobſterpye a will, all the Fat were in the fier, but harke tis one a clock, and iuſt about this minute ſhe ſhould play the wagtaile and ſtur. What trance was this? where am I? Oh ſhe ſpeaks, Fates and be good girles keepe my maiſter away, and let his man haue a little ſport with his miſtreſſe. What place is this? am I in heauen or no. No. What voice is that? is this place earth? Earth. Earth? how came I hither? do I liue again? Liue again. What voice is that? a woman or ſome youth? Youth. My feares will murther me, my powers are frighted. Ahlas poore ſtirring ghoſt art ouer ſprighted. Boy. meſtreſſe. Tell mee. all and more anon. The ſleepy drink hath plaid the honeſt man, What ſleepy drink? how came I in this tombe? Ile tell you that in a more priuate roome, Away Ile tell you a ſtrange wonder, Then wintes lightning, or Chriſtmas thunder, Then to my fathers trip and go, Nimble preuention ont runs woe. No more of mourning brother, we haue laid Our timeleſſe ſorrowes in a quiet graue, When men interre their comfort let them weepe: Not when their crying charme is laide to ſleepe. Great Duke mine eyes are not thus great with teares, For our griefes funerall, but that her ſhame, And future ſcandall will out liue her name, Come let mirth kill it, and to your diſcourſe, Is our ſonne growne vnto that height of riot Your ſpeeches intimate. I know the law, if I haue wrongd the Prince, I ſtand in compas of a praemonire, And he by writte of ad quod dampnum may, ſue his recouery, I know the law. Nay his owne letter partly graunts aſmuch, But note his ſubtle reaſon, here a writs, That of ſet purpoſe a laid by himſelfe, And plaid the parte of a wilde prodigall, Onely to put your loue vnto the teſt, On which aduantage to igreſe his wealth, You did indeae him to ſociety, Of careleſſe wantons and light Curtezans, Made ſecret vaults and cellers vnder ground. Non tenet in bocardo I demurre, Do but ſend out your Jterum ſummoneas, Or capias vt legatum to attach, And bring him viua voce tongue to tongue, And vi & armis Ile reuenge this wrong. Leaue that to triall, here a further writte, That by his skill and practize in black Art, He hath found out and by much toile redeemd, My daughter from the Turkiſh ſeruitude. Redeemde your daughter▪ an apparent error, Which you by way of melius inquiren dum. May ſoone diſcuſe, he ran ſome home your daughter As ſure as I made cellers vnder ground, Or playd his pandar.