The White Devil (Vittoria Corombona) · chunk 36 of 49
Webster, John · published 1612 · first performed or written 1612 [Winter 1612-1613] (Annals) tragedy · Queen Anne's Men unassigned nearest T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Your love is untimely sown, there's a Spring at Michaelmas, but 'tis but a faint one, I am sunk In years, and I have vowed never to marry. Alas! poor maids get more lovers than husbands, Yet you may mistake my wealth. For, as when Ambassadors are sent to congratulate Princes, there's commonly sent along with them a rich present; so that though the Prince like not the Ambassadors person nor words, yet he likes well of the presentment. So I may come to you in the same manner, & be better loved for my dowry then my virtue. I'll think on the motion. Do, I'll now detain you no longer. At your better leisure I'll tell you things shall startle your blood. Nor blame me that this passion I reveal; Lovers die inward that their flames conceal. Of all intelligence this may prove the best, Sure I shall draw strange fowl, from this foul nest. I hear a whispering all about the Court, You are to fight, who is your opposite? What is the quarrel? 'Tis an idle rumour. Will you dissemble? sure you do not well To fright me thus, you never look thus pale, But when you are most angry. I do charge you Upon my blessing; nay I'll call the Duke, And he shall school you. Publish not a fear Which would convert to laughter; 'tis not so, Was not this Crucifix my fathers? Yes. I have heard you say, giving my brother suck, He took the Crucifix between his hands, And broke a limb off. Yes: but 'tis mended. I have brought your weapon back. Ha, O my horror! You have brought it home indeed. Help, oh he's murdered. Do you turn your gall up? I'll to sanctuary, And send a surgeon to you. How? o'th' ground? O mother now remember what I told, Of breaking off the Crucifix: farewell There are some sins which heaven doth duly punish, In a whole family. This it is to rise By all dishonest means. Let all men know That tree shall long time keep a steady foot Whose branches spread no wilder than the root. O my perpetual sorrow! Virtuous Marcello. he's dead: pray leave him Lady; come, you shall. Alas he is not dead: he's in a trance. Why here's nobody shall get any thing by his death. Let me call him again for God's sake. I would you were deceived. O you abuse me, you abuse me, you abuse me. How many have gone away thus for lack of tendance; rear up's head, rear up's head; His bleeding inward will kill him. You see he is departed. Let me come to him; give me him as he is, if he be turned to earth; let me but give him one hearty kiss, and you shall put us both into one coffin: fetch a looking glass, see if his breath will not stain it; or pull out some feathers from my pillow, and lay them to his lips, will you lose him for a little pains taking?
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)
Your loue is vntimely sowen, Ther's a Spring at Michaelmas, but 'tis but a faint one, I am sunck In yeares, and I haue vowed neuer to marry. Alas! poore maides get more louers then husbands, Yet you may mistake my wealth. For, as when Embassadours are sent to congratulate Princes, there's commonly sent along with them a rich present; so that though the Prince like not the Embassadours person nor words, yet he likes well of the presentment. So I may come to you in the same maner, & be better loued for my dowry then my vertue. I'le thinke on the motion. Do, Ile now detaine you no longer. At your better leasure I'le tell you things shall startle your bloud. Nor blame me that this passion I reueale; Louers dye inward that their flames conceale. Of all intelligence this may proue the best, Sure I shall draw strange fowle, from this foule nest. I heare a whispering all about the Court, Your are to fight, who is your opposite? What is the quarrell? 'Tis an idle umour. Will you dissemble? sure you do not well To fright me thus, you neuer look thus pale, But when you are most angry. I do charge you Vpon my blessing; nay I'le call the Duke, And he shall schoole you. Publish not a feare Which would conuert to laughter; 'tis not so, Was not this Crucifix my fathers? Yes. I haue heard you say, giuing my brother sucke, Hee tooke the Crucifix betweene his hands, And broke a limbe off. Yes: but 'tis mended. I haue brought your weapon backe. Ha, O my horrour! You haue brought it home indeed. Helpe, oh he's murdered. Do you turne your gaule vp? I'le to sanctuary, And send a surgeon to you. How? o'th ground? O mother now remember what I told, Of breaking off the Crucifix: farewell There are some sinnes which heauen doth duly punish, In a whole family. This it is to rise By all dishonest meanes. Let all men know That tree shall long time keepe a steddy foote Whose branches spread no wilder then the roote. O my perpetuall sorrow! Vertuous Marcello. Hee's dead: pray leaue him Lady; come, you shall. Alas he is not dead: hee's in a trance. Why here's no body shall get any thing by his death. Let me call him againe for Gods sake. I would you were deceiu'd. O you abuse mee, you abuse me, you abuse me. How many haue gone away thus for lacke of tendance; reare vp's head, reare vp's head; His bleeding inward will kill him. You see hee is departed. Let mee come to him; giue mee him as hee is, if hee bee turn'd to earth; let mee but giue him one heartie kisse, and you shall put vs both into one coffin: fetch a looking glasse, see if his breath will not staine it; or pull out some feathers from my pillow, and lay them to his lippes, will you loose him for a little paines taking?