A Christian Turned Turk (The Two Famous Pirates) · chunk 31 of 38
Daborne, Robert · published 1612 · first performed or written 1610 [1609-1612] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
This is the place a cold blood thwarts my heart, My fleeting soul in her disturbed passion Proclaims some ill near, let me suppose the worst Aliziae's dead, false tongue how durst thou name So great a mischief? alas this bracelet speaks it, This which I tied unto her ivory wrist The witness of those vows confirmed us one, The news of my captivity took all her hopes And life away, and dying she bequeathed This loyal gift again, with my sad ransom. 'T may be this youth may be Alizia herself a prisoner, yet she's to virtuous To outlive her honour and her chastity, Which her captivity must needs endanger: I hear his footsteps. We are not far off from the place, softly, softly. The night is dark and friendly to mine ends. Fidelio, Fidelio, 'Tis he would rob me of Fidelio, Fidelio I say young Raymond here Shoot. So I am slain. Thus dost thou bear Fidelio back again, Ha, ha, ha. Oh false, false Alizia thy watchwords as thyself Deceiving, didst think my slavery Was not an ill sufficient, but my blood Must pay thy falsehood tribute, or couldst not wish So great a plague to me, that I should hear Thou wert turned prostitute, ungentle cruel woman, 'tis not the boy sure, his voice, his passion Speaks him another, more projects yet, I hear some foot stir. How fearful is the night, heaven's angry sure, And having drawn the day up, chid her thus For giving light to men's impieties. 'Tis much about the hour of my appoint, What sad groan wounds my ears, Fidelio, Raymond, friend Fidelio. Or rather Infidelio, whate'er thou art Thou needst not doubt thy task, thou hast made me sure, Or if thou doubts it, here discharge one bullet more. 'Tis not his voice, thou liest false thoughts, Raymond, Fidelio. My name is Raymond, that Fidelio unjustly murdered. No marvel though thou thunderest heaven; And darts thy flashes down, oh! why is not This world a universal fire? what one good Keeps back thy flames? Oh speak! what art thou? whose sad speech Makes death stay yet to hear thee. My friend, my Raymond by my means murdered I have lived too long, too long. Oh speak! what art thou whose sad accents force Pale death to stay and hear thee. Alas I am nothing, nothing. As thou hast hope in heaven tell me thy name, I will, my name's Alizia, thy constant loyal, loyal friend, that in her passage unto thee will not be long Oh save thy life. Wish me not so much ill, I love thee better. Miracle of thy sex, oh let me embrace thee yet. Here, here, fly hence vain breath, No other good is known to me but death, moritur Francisco thou'rt a villain, forgiveness Voada, The words of these two innocents with purple eyes Dart terror through me, Fidelio turned a woman. Within Follow, follow, follow.
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)
This is the place a cold bloud thwarts my heart, My fleeting soule in her disturbed passion Proclaims some ill neere, let me suppose the worst Aliziaes dead, false tongue how durst thou name So great a mischiefe? alas this bracelet speakes it, This which I tied vnto her iuory wrist The witnesse of those vowes confirm'd vs one, The news of my captiuity tooke all her hopes And life away, and dying she bequeath'd This loyall gift againe, with my sad ransome. 'T may be this youth may be Alizia Her selfe a prisoner, yet shee's to vertuous To out-liue her honour and her chastity, Which her captiuity must needs indanger: I heare his foote-steps. We are not far off from the place, softly, softly. The night is darke and friendly to myne ends. Fidelio, Fidelio, 'Tis he would rob me of Fidelio, Fidelio I say yong Raymond heere Shoote. So I am slaine. Thus dost thou beare Fidelio back againe, Ha, ha, ha. Oh false, false Alizia thy watch-words as thy selfe Deceiuing, didst thinke my slauery Was not an ill sufficient, but my bloud Must pay thy falshood tribute, or couldst not wish So great a plague to me, that I should heare Thou wert turn'd prostitute, vngentle cruell woman, T'is not the boy sure, his voyce, his passion Speakes him another, more proiects yet, I heare some foot stir. How fearefull is the night, heauen's angry sure, And hauing drawne the day vp, chid her thus For giuing light to mens impieties. 'Tis much about the houre of my appoint, Wht sad groane wounds my ears, Fidlo, Raymond, friend Fdlio. Or rather Infidlio, what ere thou art Thou needst not doubt thy taske, thou hast made me sure, Or if thou doubts it, here dischardge one bullet more. 'Tis not his voyce, thou liest falfe thoughts, Raymond, Fidelio. My name is Raymond, that Fidlio vniustly murdered. No maruaile though thou thundrest heauen; And darts thy flashes downe, oh! why is not This world a vniuerall fire? what one good Keepes backe thy lames? Oh speake! what art thou? whose sad speech Maks death stay yet to heare thee. My friend, my Raymond by my meanes murdered I haue liu'd too long, too long. Oh speake! what art thou whose sad accents force Pale death to stay and heare thee. Alas I am nothing, nothing. As thou hast hope in heauen tell me thy name, I will, my name's Alizia, thy constant loyall, loyall friend, that in her passage vnto thee will not be long Oh saue thy life. Wish me not so much ill, I loue thee better. Miracle of thy sexe, oh let me imbrace thee yet. Heere, heere, flye hence vaine breath, No other good is knowne to me but death, moritur Francico thou'rt a villaine, forgiuenesse Voada, The words of these two innocents with purple eyes Dart terrour through me, Fidelio turn'd a woman. Within Follow, follow, follow.