The White Devil (Vittoria Corombona) · chunk 7 of 49
Webster, John · published 1612 · first performed or written 1612 [Winter 1612-1613] (Annals) tragedy · Queen Anne's Men T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.85 · 508 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
I will join with thee, To the most woeful end ere mother kneeled, If thou dishonour thus thy husband's bed, be thy life short as are the funeral tears In great men's. Fie, fie, the woman's mad. be thy act judas-like betray in kissing, Mayest thou be envied during his short breath, And pitied like a wretch after this death. O me accursed. Are you out of your wits, my Lord I'll fetch her back again? No I'll to bed. Send Doctor Iulio to me presently, Uncharitable woman thy rash tongue Hath raised a fearful and prodigious storm, be thou the cause of all ensuing harm. Now, you that stand so much upon your honour, Is this a fitting time a night think you, To send a Duke home without ere a man: I would fain know where lies the mass of wealth Which you have hoarded for my maintenance, That I may bear my beard out of the level Of my Lords Stirrup. What? because we are poor, Shall we be vicious? Pray what means have you To keep me from the galleys, or the gallows? My father proved himself a Gentleman, Sold als land, and like a fortunate fellow, Died ere the money was spent. You brought me up, At Padua I confess, where I protest For want of means, the University judge me, I have been fain to heel my tutor's stockings At least seven years: Conspiring with a beard Made me a Graduate, then to this Duke's service, I visited the Court, whence I returned: More courteous, more lecherous by far, But not a suit the richer, and shall I, Having a path so open and so free To my preferment, still retain your milk In my pale forehead, no this face of mine I'll arm and fortify with lusty wine, 'gainst shame and blushing. O that I ne'er had borne thee, So would I. I would the commonest Courtesan in Rome, Had been my mother rather than thyself. Nature is very pitiful to whores To give them but few children, yet those children Plurality of fathers, they are sure They shall not want. Go, go, Complain unto my great Lord Cardinal, Yet may be he will justify the act. Lycurgus wondered much men would provide Good stallions for their Mares, and yet would suffer Their fair wives to be barren, Misery of miseries. The Duchess come to Court, I like not that, we are engaged to mischief and must on. As Rivers to find out the Ocean Flow with crook bendings beneath forced banks, Or as we see to aspire some mountains top, The way ascends not straight, but Imitates The subtle foldings of a Winter's snake, So who knows policy and her true aspect, Shall find her ways winding and indirect. Have you not seen your husband since you arrived? Not yet sir. Surely he is wondrous kind, If I had a such dove-house as Camillo's I would set fire on't, were't but to destroy The Pole-cats that haunt to't,—my sweet cossin.
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I will ioyne with thee, To the most wofull end ere mother kneel'd, If thou dishonour thus thy husbands bed, Bee thy life short as are the funerall teares In great mens. Fye, fye, the womans mad. Bee thy act Iudas-like betray in kissing, Maiest thou be enuied during his short breath, And pittied like a wretch after this death. O me accurst. Are you out of your wits, my Lord Ile fetch her backe againe? No I'le to bed. Send Doctor Iulio to me presently, Vncharitable woman thy rash tongue Hath rais'd a fearefull and prodigious storme, Bee thou the cause of all ensuing harme. Now, you that stand so much vpon your honour, Is this a fitting time a night thinke you, To send a Duke home without ere a man: I would faine know where lies the masse of wealth Which you haue whoorded for my maintenance, That I may beare my beard out of the leuell Of my Lords Stirop. What? because we are poore, Shall we be vitious? Pray what meanes haue you To keepe me from the gallies, or the gallowes? My father prou'd himselfe a Gentleman, Sold al's land, and like a fortunate fellow, Died ere the money was spent. You brought me vp, At Padua I confesse, where I protest For want of meanes, the Vniuersity iudge me, I haue bene faine to heele my Tutors stockings At least seuen yeares: Conspiring with a beard Made me a Graduate, then to this Dukes seruice, I visited the Court, whence I return'd: More courteous, more letcherous by farre, But not a suite the richer, and shall I, Hauing a path so open and so free To my preferment, still retaine your milke In my pale forehead, no this face of mine I'le arme and fortefie with lusty wine, Gainst shame and blushing. O that I ne're had borne thee, So would I. I would the common'st Courtezan in Rome, Had bene my mother rather then thy selfe. Nature is very pittfull to whoores To giue them but few children, yet those children Plurality of fathers, they are sure They shall not want. Go, go, Complaine vnto my great Lord Cardinall, Yet may be he will iustifie the act. Lycurgus wondred much men would prouide Good stalions for their Mares, and yet would suffer Their faire wiues to be barren, Misery of miseries. The Dutchesse come to Court, I like not that, Wee are ingag'd to mischiefe and must on. As Riuers to finde out the Ocean Flow with crooke bendings beneath forced bankes, Or as wee see to aspire some mountaines top, The way ascends not straight, but Imitates The suttle fouldings of a Winters snake, So who knowes policy and her true aspect, Shall finde her waies winding and indirect. Haue you not seene your husband since you ariued? Not yet sir. Surely he is wondrous kind, If I had a such Doue-house as Camillo's I would set fire on't, wer't but to destroy The Pole-cats that haunt to't,—my sweet cossin.