Day, John · published 1608 · first performed or written 1608 [1607-1608] (Annals) comedy · Children of the King's Revels 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.
Do not kill him, though he deserves death yet do not kill him, only disweapon him; so. But madam. I will not hear him, keep him; but keep him safe on your lives, if he get away or miscarry in prison: as I am heir of Venice i'll have your heads for't. I warn you madam, if irons will hold him. Fie, fie, with a cord? here, bind him with my scarf, that will hold, and yet stand away, I'll do't myself, I cannot trust him with you, lest you should let him sometime scape free: beside, you cannot use him according to the quality of his offence, and because i'll glory in his bondage my chamber shall be his prison, let him have neither light meat nor drink, but what I provide him myself. Your will's a law, we obey it madam. She knows me sure; well, though my joys be thrall, My comforts this, a speedy death ends all. Oh you are not gone then. here's a new kind of courting, never seen before I think. He would anger me. Nay you take a course, to anger him first I think. Should I have let him go, (as I could no other way detain him in modesty) and he had set his love on some other, 'twould have fretted my heart strings asunder. Why did you set him so light then? Not for any hate, but in pride of my humour. Why did you command him close prisoner to your chamber. That I may feed mine eye with the sight of him, and be sure no other beauty can rob me of his company: I will ha''t all, I will not lose an inch of him: And in this, I but imitate our Italian dames, who cause their friends to clap their jealous husbands in prison, that if they have occasion to use them within forty weeks and a day, they may surely know where to find them. If I had any knavery in me, as I am all honesty, I could make a notable scene of mirth betwixt these two Amourists. Early sorrow, art got up so soon? What? ere the Sun ascendeth in the East? O what an early waker art thou grown? But cease discourse, and close unto thy work; Under this drooping myrtle will I sit, And work a while upon my corded net; And as I work, record my sorrows past, Asking old Time, how long my woes shall last: And first, but stay alas what do I see? Moist gum like tears, drop from this mournful tree And see, it sticks like birdlime; 'twill not part; Sorrow is even such birdlime at my heart. Alas poor tree, dost thou want company? Thou dost, I see't, and I will weep with thee, Thy sorrows make thee dumb, and so shall mine. It shall be tongueless, and so seem like thine; Thus will I rest my head unto thy bark, Whilst my sighs tell my sorrows; hark tree, hark.
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)
Do not kill him, though hee deſerues death yet doe not kill him, onely diſweapon him; ſo. But madam. I will not heare him, keepe him; but keepe him ſafe on your liues, if he get away or miſcarry in priſon: as I am heire of Venice ile haue your heads for't. I warne you madam, if yrons will hold him. Fie, fie, with a cord? here, bind him with my ſcarfe, that wil hold, and yet ſtand away, ile doo't my ſelfe, I cannot truſt him with you, leaſt you ſhould let him ſometime ſcape free: beſides, you cannot vſe him according to the quality of his offence, and becauſe ile glory in his bondage my chamber ſhall bee his priſon, let him haue neither light meat nor drinke, but what J prouide him my ſelfe. Your will's a law, we obey it madam. She knowes me ſure; well, though my ioyes be thrall, My comforts this, a ſpeedy death ends all. Oh you are not gone then. Heer's a newe kinde of courting, neuer ſeene before J thinke. He would anger me. Nay you take a courſe, to anger him firſt J thinke. Should J haue let him go, (as I could no other way detaine him in modeſty) and he had ſet his loue on ſome other, t'would haue fretted my hart ſtrings a ſunder. Why did you ſet him ſo light then? Not for any hate, but in pride of my humour. VVhy did you commaund him cloſe priſoner to your chamber. That I may feede mine eie with the ſight of him, and be ſure no other beauty can rob me of his company: I will ha't all, I will not looſe an ynch of him: And in this, I but imitate our Italian dames, who cauſe their friends to clap their iealous huſbands in priſon, that if they haue occaſion to vſe them within fortie weekes and a day, they may ſurely know where to find them. If I had any knauēry in mee, as J am all honeſty, I could make a notable ſceane of mirth betwixt theſe two Amoriſts. Early ſorrow, art got vp ſo ſoone? What? ere the Sun aſcendeth in the Eaſt? O what an early waker art thou growne? But ceaſe diſcourſe, and cloſe vnto thy worke; Vnder this drooping mirtle will I ſit, And worke a while vpon my corded net; And as I worke, record my ſorrowes paſt, Asking old Time, how long my woes ſhall laſt: And firſt, but ſtay alas what do J ſee? Moiſt gum like teares, drop from this mournfull tree And ſee, it ſticks like birdlyme; twill not part; Sorrow is euen ſuch birdlyme at my hart. Alas poore tree, doſt thou want company? Thou doſt, I ſee't, and J will weepe with thee, Thy ſorrowes make thee dumb, and ſo ſhall mine. It ſhall be tongueles, and ſo ſeeme like thine; Thus will I reſt my head vnto thy barke, Whilſt my ſighes tell my ſorrowes; harke tree, harke.