Armin, Robert · published 1609 · first performed or written 1606 [c.1606-1608] (Annals) comedy · Children of the King's Revels unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 507 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Good luck a God's name, sir it is a trunk. Lift sir. 'tis quick, it heaved as I heaved it. I'faith I think so to, in heart of hope I will be all so bold, as to break way. Ha. If you be men and borne of that weak sex, Which I myself profess, being woman, Pity the living sorrow of a maid, Buried for dead, but back again recalled, By the divinity of heavenly power, Amaze not, I am creature, flesh and blood, Not as I see me, a pale and earthly Ghost, The story when you hear it shall make plain, The woeful chance of life so lately slain. I had acquaintance with this voice, my cousin. 'tis she, sir, 'tis Mistress Mary Virger, I know her. My name recalls my memory, And I am such a creature, oh, My uncle, where am I? return again, Death thou art wanton in a lovers pain. cousin I will not question the particulars, The time calls on a present comfort, And your life half spent, Makes true necessity delay no longer, Therefore come, as leisure we shall hear, The dying story of your misery. however, glad I am that such a chance, Landed in Scilly not in neighbouring France. If ever you used speed, be swift as lightning, Shoot as the stars in their celestial spheres, Go and return as Paris did from Greece, With that immatchless Helen, tell the Priest It must be done, he will believe your haste, Because 'twas quickened with the former grant, And promised by the knight himself. Let me alone to make the way, follow you son. And if I do not let me lose my prize. Where's the knight? Busy with one, who comes as conjured up from Cupid's quiver, strooken deep in love, he is a Pothecary. I know him his mother was a. Peace. Him will I busily attend, go you dispatch while I detain the father, if this prove, 'tis comic pleasure in the school of love. We must be quick and sudden, come. Slip like your Eel. If any man know any lawful cause why these two may not marry, now speak, or else for ever mum, I am gone i'faith. Master, remember, you ha' my tongue. yes, and thou mine, let me alone to counterfeit, Think on your oath. Sir, if I do not, let me die. When I have poisoned her with this confection: Be you cloudy killed with sorrow, 'tis a skin, Will draw to purpose on the straightest glove, But then your promised reward. My daughter and my goods, I have no other son but you, all is thine, Question not the reason, why this is, For I have many, and amongst them one Sites all the rest, that known to thee, Will rather hasten death, then pity it. Go, I will bid my guests, for to this feast: Shall she have noble poison, 'twill cause fear, Use less suspicion, and my mortal hate, Shall itself kennel in the pride of state.
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)
Good lucke a gods name, sir it is a truncke. Lift sir. Tis quicke, it heau'd as I heau'd it. Yfaith I thinke so to, in heart of hope I will be all so bold, as to breake way. Ha. If you be men and borne of that weake sex, Which I my selfe professe, being woman, Pittie the liuing sorrowe of a maide, Buried for dead, but backe againe recal'd, By the diuinitie of heauenly power, Amaze not, I am creature, flesh and blood, Not as I see me, a pale and earthly Ghost, The story when you heare it shall make plaine, The wofull chance of life so lately slaine. I had acquaintance with this voice, my cosin. Tis she, sir, tis Mistris Mary Virger, I know her. My name recalles my memorie, And I am such a creature, oh, My vnckle, where am I? returne againe, Death thou art wanton in a louers paine. Cosin I will not question the particulars, The time calles on a present comfort, And your life halfe spent, Makes true necessitie delay no longer, Therefore come, as leasure we shall heare, The dying story of your miserie. How euer, glad I am that such a chance, Lāded in Scilly not in neighboring Frāce. If euer you vs'd speede, be swift as lightning, Shoote as the starres in their celestiall sphears, Go and returne as Paris did from Greece, With that immatchles Hellen, tell the Priest It must be done, he will beleeue your haste, Because twas quickned with the former grant, And promised by the knight himselfe. Let me alone to make the way, follow you sonne. And if I doe not let me loose my prize. Wheres the knight? Busie with one, who comes as coniur'd vp from Cupids quiuer, stroken deepe in loue, he is a Pothecary. I know him his mother was a. Peace. Him will I busily attend, go you dispatch while I detaine the father, if this proue, tis comicke pleasure in the schoole of loue. We must be quick and sodaine, come. Slip like your Eele. If any man know any lawfull cause why these two may not marry, now speake, or else for euer mumb, I am gone y faith. Master, remember, you ha my tongue. yes, and thou mine, let me alone to counterseit, Thinke on your oth. Sir, if I do not, let me dye. When I haue poison'd her with this confection: Be you cloudy kild with sorrow, tis a skin, Will draw to purpose on the straitest gloue, But then your promised reward. My daughter and my goods, I haue no other sonne but you, all is thine, Question not the reason, why this is, For I haue many, and amongst them one Sites all the rest, that knowne to thee, Will rather hasten death, then pitty it. Go, I will bid my guests, for to this feast: Shal she haue noble poison, twill cause feare, Vse lesse suspition, and my mortall hate, Shall it selfe kenuell in the pride of state.