Middleton, Thomas · published 1608 · first performed or written 1606 [1605-1608] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Globe T40 Sin, guilt and violent loss within famil typicality 0.92 · 520 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
Oh god oh. wise men think ill of you, others speak ill of you, no man loves you, nay even those whom honesty condemns, condemn you: and take this from the virtuous affection I bear your brother, never look for prosperous hour, good thought, quiet sleeps, contented walks, nor anything that makes man perfect till you redeem him, what is your answer how will you bestow him, upon desperate misery, or better hopes? I suffer, till I hear your answer. Sir you have much wrought with me, I feel you in my soul, you are your art's master. I never had sense till now; your syllables have cleft me Both for your words and pains I thank you: I cannot but acknowledge grievous wrongs done to my brother, mighty, mighty, mighty wrongs. Within there, Fill me a bowl of wine. Alas poor brother, Bruised with an execution for my sake A bruise indeed makes many a mortal Sore till the grave cure 'em Sir I begin to you, you'ave chid your welcome: I could have wished it better for your sake, I pledge you sir, to the kind man in prison. Let it be so? Now Sir if you so please To spend but a few minutes in a walk about my grounds below, my man here shall attend you: I doubt not but by that time to be furnished of a sufficient answer, and therein my brother fully satisfied. Good sir in that, the Angels would be pleased, And the world's murmurs calmed, and I should say I set forth then upon a lucky day. Oh thou confused man, thy pleasant sins have undone thee thy damnation has beggared thee, that heaven should say we must not answer, and yet made women: gives our senses way to find pleasure, which being found confounds us, why should we know those things so much misuse us— oh would virtue had been forbidden, we should then have proved all virtuous, for 'tis our blood to love what we are forbidden, had not drunkenness been forbidden what man would have been fool to a beast, and Zany to a swine to show tricks in the mire, what is there in three dice to make a man draw thrice three thousand acres into the compass of a round little table, & with the gentleman's palsy in the hand shake out his posterity, thieves or beggars: 'tis done, I ha' done't i'faith: terrible horrible misery.— how well was I left, very well, very well. My Lands showed like a full moon about me, but now the moon's i'th' last quarter, waning, waning, And I am mad to think that moon was mine: Mine and my father's, and my forefathers' generations, generations: down goes the house of us, down, down; it sinks: Now is the name a beggar, begs in me that name which hundreds of years has made this shire famous: in me, and my posterity runs out. In my seed five are made miserable besides myself, my riot is now my brother's jailor, my wives sighing, my three boys' penury, and mine own confusion:
seed 43: T37 · seed 44: T36 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Oh god oh. Wisemen think ill of you, others speake ill of you, no man loues you, nay euen those whome honesty condemnes, condemne you: and take this from the vertuous affection I beare your brother, neuer looke for prosperous hower, good thought, quiet sleepes, contented walkes, nor anything that makes man perfect til you redeem him, what is your ans how will yov bestow him, vpon desperate miye, or better hopes? I suffer, till I heare your answer. Sir you haue much wrought with mee, I feele you in my soule, you are your artes master. I neuer had sence til now; your sillables haue cleft me Both for your words and pains I thank you: I cannot but acknowledge grieuous wronges done to my brother, mighty, mighty, mighty wrongs. Within there, Fil me a bowle of wine. Alas poore brother, Brus'd with an execution for my sake A bruse indeed makes many a mortall Sore till the graue cure em Sir I begin to you, y'aue chid your welcome: I could haue wisht it better for your sake, I pledge you sir, to the kind man in prison. Let it be soe? Now Sir if you so please To spend but a fewe minuts in a walke about my grounds below, my man heere shall attend you: I doubt not but by that time to be furnisht of a sufficient answere, and therein my brother fully satisfied. Good sir in that, the Angells would be pleasd, And the worlds murmures calmd, and I should saye I set forth then vpon a lucky daie. Oh thou confused man, thy pleasant sins haue hee thy damnation has beggerd thee, that heauen should say we must not sin, and yet made women: giues our sences waie to finde pleasure, which being found confounds vs, why shold we know those things so mch misuse vs—oh would vertue had been forbidden, wee should then haue prooued all vertuous, for tis our bloude to loue what we are forbidden, had not drunkennes byn forbidden what man wold haue been foole to a beast, and Zany to a swine to show tricks in the mire, what is there in three dice to make a man draw thrice three thousand acres into the compasse of a round little table, & with the gentlemans palsy in the hand shake out his posteritie, thieues or beggars: tis done, I ha don't yfaith: terrible horrible misery.—how well was I left, very well, very wel. My Lands shewed like a full moone about mee, but nowe the moon's ith last quarter, wayning, waining, And I am mad to think that moone was mine: Mine and my fathers, and my forefathers generations, generations: downe goes the howse of vs, down, downe; it sincks: Now is the name a beggar, begs in me that name which hundreds of yeeres has made this shiere famous: in me, and my posterity runs out. In my seede fiue are made miserable besides my selfe, my ryot is now my brothers iaylor, my wiues sighing, my three boyes penurie, and mine own confusion: