The Atheist's Tragedy, or The Honest Man's Revenge · chunk 35 of 41
Tourneur, Cyril · published 1611 · first performed or written 1611 [1607-1611] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Sebastian if you love me, save my honour. What violence is this? What seek you? zounds! you shall not pass. Pursue the Strumpet. Villain give me way; or I will make my passage through thy blood. My blood will make it slippery my Lord. 'twere better you would take another way. You may hap fall else. I ha''t i'faith. O God! my Husband! my Sebastian! Husband! Neither can spoke; yet both report my shame. Is this the saving of my Honour? when their blood runs out in rivers; and my lust the fountain whence it flows? Dear Husband let not thy departed spirit be displeased; if with adulterate lips I kiss thy cheek. Here I behold the hatefulness of lust; which brings me kneeling to embrace him dead; whose body living I did loath to touch. Now I can weep. But what can tears do good; when I weep only water, they weep blood? But could I make an Ocean with my tears; that on the flood this broken vessel of my body, laden heavy with light lust might suffer shipwreck, and so drown my shame: then weeping were to purpose; but alas! The Sea wants water enough to wash away the foulness of my name. O in their wounds; I feel my honour wounded to the death. Shall I outlive my Honour? Must my life be made the world's example? Since it must; then thus in detestation of my deed; to make th'example move more forcibly to virtue; thus, I feel it with a death as full of horror as my life of sin. Hold madam! Lord what a strange night is this. May not Snuff be suffered to go out of himself? Nor you; nor any. All must go with us. O with what virtue lust should be withstood! Since 'tis a fire quenched seldom without blood. WHat sleep'st thou? No my Lord. Nor sleep; nor wake. But in a slumber troublesome to both. Whence comes this gold? 'tis part of the Revenue; Due to your Lordship since your brother's death. To bed. Leave me my gold. And me my rest. Two things wherewith one man is seldom blessed. Cease that harsh music. W''re not pleased with it. Here sounds a music whose melodious touch, Like Angels voices ravishes the sense. Behold thou ignorant Astronomer, Whose wandering speculation seeks among The planets for men's fortunes! with amazement, Behold thine error and be planet struck. These are the Stars whose operations make The fortunes and the destinies of men. yond lesser eyes of Heaven, (like Subjects raised Into their lofty houses, when their Prince Rides underneath th'ambition of their loves) Are mounted only to behold the face, Of your more rich imperious eminence, With unprevented sight. Unmask fair Queen; Vouchsafe their expectations may enjoy, The gracious favour they admit to see, These are the Stars the Ministers of Fate; And man's high wisdom the superior power, To which their forces are subordinate.
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)
Sebastian if you loue me, saue my honour. What violence is this? What seeke you? Zownes! you shall not passe. Pursue the Strumpet. Villaine giue mee way; or I will make my passage through thy bloud. My bloud will make it slipperie my Lord. T'were better you would take another way. You may hap fall else. I ha't ifaith. O God! my Husband! my Sebastian! Husband! Neither can spake; yet both report my shame. Is this the sauing of my Honour? when their bloud runnes out in riuers; and my lust the fountaine whence it flowes? Deare Husband let not thy departed spirit be displeas'd; if with adult rate lips I kisse thy cheeke. Heere I behold the hatefulnesse of lust; which brings me kneeling to embrace him dead; whose body liuing I did loathe to touch. Now I can weepe. But what can teares doe good; when I weepe onely water, they weepe bloud? But could I make an Ocean with my teares; that on the oud this broken vessell of my body, laden heauie with light lust might suffer shipwrack, and so drowne my shame: then weeping were to purpose; but alas! The Sea wants water enough to wash away the oulenesse of my name. O in their wounds; I feele my honour wounded to the death. Shall I out-liue my Honour? Must my life be made the worlds example? Since it must; then thus in detestation of my deede; to make th'eexample moue more forceably to vertue; thus, I feale it with a death as full of horrour as my life of sinne. Hold Madame! Lord what a strange night is this. May not Snuffe be suffer'd to goe out of himselfe? Nor you; nor any. All must goe with vs. O with what vertue lust should be withstood! Since t'is a fire quench'd seldome without bloud. VVHat sleep'st thou? No my Lord. Nor sleepe; nor wake. But in a slumber troublesome to both. Whence comes this gold? T'is part of the Reuenew; Due to your Lordship since your brothers death. To bed. Leau me my gold. And me my rest. Two things wherewith one man is seldome blest. Cease that harsh musicke. W'are not pleas'd with it. Heere sounds a musicke whose melodious touch, Like Angels voices rauishes the sence. Behold thou ignorant Astronomer, Whose wandring speculation seekes among The planets for mens fortunes! with amazement, Behold thine errour and be planet strucke. These are the Starres whose operations make The fortunes and the destinies of men. Yond' lesser eyes of Heau'n, (like Subiects ras'd Into their loftie houses, when their Prince Rides vnderneath th'ambition of their loues) Are mounted onely to behold the face, Of your more rich imperious eminence, With vnpreuented sight. Vnmaske faire Queene; Vouchsafe their expectations may enioy, The gracious fauour they admite to see, These are the Starres the Ministers of Fate; And Mans high wisedome the superiour power, To which their forces are subordinate.