The White Devil (Vittoria Corombona) · chunk 14 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 · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Most certain. I have letters from him, which are suppliant To work his quick repeal from banishment, He means to address himself for pension, Unto our sister Duchess. O 'twas well. We shall not want his absence past six days, I fain would have the Duke Brachiano run Into notorious scandal, for their's nought In such cursed dotage, to repair his name, Only the deep sense of some deathless shame: It may be objected I am dishonourable, To play thus with my kinsman, but I answer. For my revenge I'd stake a brother's life, That being wronged durst not avenge himself. Come to observe this strumpet. Curse of greatness, Sure he'll not leave her. There's small pity in't Like mistletoe on sear Elms spent by weather, Let him cleave to her and both rot together. Now sir I claim your promise, 'tis dead midnight, The time prefixed to show me by your Art, How the intended murder of Camillo, And our loathed Duchess grow to action. You have won me by your bounty to a deed, I do not often practise, some there are, Which by Sophistic tricks, aspire that name Which I would gladly lose, of necromancer: As some that use to juggle upon cards, Seeming to conjure, when indeed they cheat. Others that raise up their confederate spirits, 'Bout windmills, and endanger their own necks, For making of a squib, and some their are Will keep a curtal to show juggling tricks And give out 'tis a spirit: besides these Such a whole ream of Almanac-makers, figure-flingers. fellows indeed that only live by stealth, Since they do merely lie about stolen goods, they'd make men think the devil were fast and loose, With speaking fustian Lattine: pray sit down, Put on this nightcap sir, 'tis charmed, and now I'll show you by my strong-commanding Art The circumstance that breaks your Duchess' heart. Excellent, then she's dead, She's poisoned, By the fumed picture, 'twas her custom nightly, Before she went to bed, to go and visit Your picture, and to feed her eyes and lips On the dead shadow, Doctor Iulio Observing this, infects it with an oil And other poisoned stuff, which presently Did suffocate her spirits. methought I saw, Count Lodowick there. He was, and by my art I find he did most passionately dote Upon your Duchess, now turn another way, And view Camillo's far more politic face, Strike louder music from this charmed ground, To yield, as fits the act, a Tragic sound. 'Twas quaintly done, but yet each circumstance, I taste not fully. O 'twas most apparent, You saw them enter charged with their deep healths To their boon voyage, and to second that, Flamineo calls to have a vaulting horse Maintain their sport. The virtuous Marcello, Is innocently plotted forth the room, Whilst your eye saw the rest, and can inform you The engine of all. It seems Marcello, and Flamineo Are both committed.
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)
Most certaine. I haue letters from him, which are suppliant To worke his quicke repeale from banishment, He meanes to adresse himselfe for pention, Vnto our sister Dutchesse. O 'twas well. We shall not want his absence past sixe daies, I faine would haue the Duke Brachiano run Into notorious scandale, for their's nought In such curst dotage, to repaire his name, Onely the deepe sence of some deathlesse shame: It may be obiected I am dishonourable, To play thus with my kinsman, but I answere. For my reuenge I'de stake a brothers life, That being wrong'd durst not auenge himselfe. Come to obserue this Strūper. Cursse of greatnes, Sure hee'le not leaue her. There's small pitty in't Like mistle-tow on seare Elmes spent by weather, Let him cleaue to her and both rot together. Now sir I claime your promise, 'tis dead midnight, The time prefixt to shew me by your Art, How the intended murder of Camillo, And our loathed Dutchesse grow to action. You haue won me by your bounty to a deed, I do not often practise, some there are, Which by Sophisticke tricks, aspire that name Which I would gladly loose, of Nigromancer: As some that vse to iuggle vpon cardes, Seeming to coniure, when indeed they cheate. Others that raise vp their confederate spirits, 'Bout wind-mils, and indanger their owne neckes, For making of a squib, and some their are Will keepe a curtall to shew iuggling trickes And giue out 'tis a spirit: besides these Such a whole reame of Almanacke-makers, figure-flingers. Fellowes indeed that onely liue by stealth, Since they do meerely lie about stolne goods, Thei'd make men thinke the diuell were fast and loose, With speaking fustian Lattine: pray sit downe, Put on this night-cap sir, 'tis charm'd, and now I'le shew you by my strong-commanding Art The circumstance that breakes your Dutchsse heart. Excellent, then shee's dead, She's poysoned, By the fum'd picture, 'twas her custome nightly, Before shee went to bed, to go and visite Your picture, and to feed her eyes and lippes On the dead shadow, Doctor Iulio Obseruing this, infects it with an oile And other poison'd stuffe, which presently Did suffocate her spirits. Me thought I saw, Count Lodowicke there. He was, and by my art I finde hee did most passionately doate Vpon your Dutchesse, now turne another way, And view Camillo's farre more polliticke face, Strike louder musicke from this charmed ground, To yeeld, as fits the act, a Tragicke sound. 'Twas quaintly done, but yet each circumstance, I tast not fully. O 'twas most apparant, You saw them enter charged with their deepe helthes To their boone voyage, and to second that, Flamineo cals to haue a vaulting horse Maintaine their sport. The vertuous Marcello, Is innocently plotted forth the roome, Whilst your eye saw the rest, and can informe you The engine of all. It seemes Marcello, and Flamineo Are both committed.