A Christian Turned Turk (The Two Famous Pirates) · chunk 32 of 38
Daborne, Robert · published 1612 · first performed or written 1610 [1609-1612] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.84 · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
I will rather give an ear to the black shrieks Of mandrakes, thou knewst I loved him And that hath forced his wound, at sight whereof Methinks reflecting heaven should spread itself In a deep crimson vail, blush to have created A wretch so monstrous, but my revenge sleeps, know boy I will repay thy death, slave I will famish thee, And when thy fainting eyelids 'gin to crack, My satisfied lust, by him most hates thee, Shall be thy object. You wrong me to suppose I should be guilty Of such an impious deed. Doth not thy blood stained poniard speak it With which thy accursed arm did force his breast His too too gentle breast. thyself be witness. That I am revenge on thee, murder, murder, the slave will murder me. What mean you wife? As you are men make rescue of me. I am betrayed, outgone by a she devil. He hath not only slain his innocent page, But thus assailed my life, lay hands on him Dear countrymen revenge my wrongs, my blood On this false runagate, I faint, I faint. Convey me to a Chirurgeon, make him safe. In the governors name I do command you give your weapons up. S'hart Gentlemen, you know Francisco killed him, I'll make it good. we have nothing to charge you with about your page It is the wounding your wife with an unlawful weapon. You have most unmanly thrust in a woman. Honest friends, Turks, and Officers, if ever I laid hands on her, may I never see light more. We'll take a reasonable order for that, you near laid hands on her, out impudence away to the dungeon with him. S'hart carry me to the Governor that I may have justice first. The fellow raves, he thinks men in office have nothing to do but to give him justice, you must first be punished and then talk of justice when you have cause. Away with him, he shall know what 'tis to marry into a great Tribe, an honourable Tribe: you use a great woman as if she were your wife, yeare a base fellow indeed. You a Courtier? Nay, than I see my end draws, I shall rave, Run mad: have you er'a Bedlam, that I may not famish But show tricks to get meat with, or rail against the State: And when I have eased my gall a month or two Come out again. Zounds let me beat hemp, Do any thing rather than famish: That death She hath vowed me, and I'll prevent it: allow me But every week a Christian, I am content To feed upon raw flesh, if't be but once a month A Britain, I'll be content with him. Nay then you are mad indeed, away with him. As you are true Turks, I will put you in sureties, I know the Devil will provide me bale, Rather than lose my employment: as you are pitiful Turks.
nodes 1629–1676 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 32 of 38 in this edition
Length
496 words · 628 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.840 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I will rather giue an eare to the blacke shrikes Of mandrakes, thou knewst I lou'd him And that hath forc his wond, at sight whereof Methinkes reflecting heaen should spred it selfe In a deepe crimsome vaile, blush to ha created A wretch so monstrous, but my reuendge sleepes, know boy I will repay thy death, slaue I will famish thee, And when thy fainting eye-lids gin to cracke, My satisfied lust, by him most hates thee, Shall be thy obiect. You wrong me to suppose I should be guilty Of such an impious deed. Doth not thy bloud stain'd poniard speake it With which thy accursed arme did force his breast His too too gentle breast. Thy selfe be witnesse. That I am reuendge on thee, murder, murder, the slaue will murder me. What meane you wife? As you are men make rescue of me. I am betray'd, out-gon by a shee diuel. He hath not onely slaine his innocent page, But thus assail'd my life, lay hands on him Deere countrimen reuenge my wrongs, my bloud On this false runnagate, I faint, I faint. Conuey me to a Chirurgion, make him safe. In the Gouernours name I do command you giue your weapons vp. S'hart Gentlemen, you know Francisco kil'd him, I'le make it good. Wee haue nothing to charge you with about your page It is the wounding your wife with an vnlawfull weapon. You haue most vnmanly thrust in a woman. Honest friends, Turkes, and Officers, if euer I laid hands on her, may I neuer see light more. We'le take a reasonable order for that, you nere laid hands on her, out impudence away to the dungeon with him. S'hart carry me to the Gouernour that I may haue iustice first. The fellow raues, he thinks men in office haue nothing to doe but to giue him iustice, you must first be punisht and then talke of iustice when you haue cause. Away with him, he shall know what 'tis to marry into a great Tribe, an honourable Tribe: you vse a great woman as if she were your wife, ye'ar a base fellow indeed. You a Courtier? Nay, then I see my end drawes, I shall raue, Run mad: haue you er'a Bedlam, that I may not famish But shew trickes to get meate with, or raile against the State: And when I haue eas'd my gall a month or two Come out againe. Zounds let me beat hempe, Doe any thing rather then famish: That death She hath vow'd me, and Il'e prevent it: allow me But every weeke a Christian, I am content To feed vpon raw flesh, if't be but once a month A Brittaine, Il'e be content with him. Nay then you are mad indeed, away with him. As you are true Turkes, I will put you in sureties, I know the Divell will prouide me bale, Rather then loose my imployment: as you are pittifull Turks.