The White Devil (Vittoria Corombona) · chunk 38 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 0.83 · 487 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Most deadly. Most corrupted politic hangman! You kill without book; but your art to save Fails you as oft, as great men's needy friends. I that have given life to offending slaves And wretched murderers, have I not power To lengthen mine own a twelvemonth? Do not kiss me, for I shall poison thee. This unction is sent from the great Duke of Florence. Sir be of comforts O thou soft natural death, that art joint-twin, To sweetest slumber: no rough-bearded Comet, stars on thy mild departure: the dull Owl Beats not against thy casement: the hoarse wolf scents not thy carrion. Pity winds thy corpse, Whilst horror weights on Princes. I am lost for ever. How miserable a thing it is to die, 'Mongst women howling! What are those. Franciscant. They have brought the extreme unction. On pain of death, let no man name death to me, It is a word infinitely terrible, Withdraw into our Cabinet To see what solitariness is about dying Princes. As heretofore they have unpeopled Towns; divorced friends, and made great houses unhospitable: so now, o justice! where are their flatterers now? Flatterers are but the shadows of PRINCE's bodies the least thick cloud makes them invisible. There's great moan made for him. i'faith, for some few hours salt water will run most plentifully in every Office o'th' Court. But believe it; most of them do but weep over their stepmothers graves. How mean you? Why? They dissemble, as some men do that live within compass o'th' verge. Come you have thrived well under him. i'faith, like a wolf in a woman's breast; I have been fed with poultry; but for money, understand me, I had as good a will to cozen him, as e'er an Officer of them all. But I had not cunning enough to do it. What didst thou think of him; i'faith speak freely. He was a kind of Statesman, that would sooner have reckoned how many Cannon bullets he had discharged against a Town, to count his expense that way, than how many of his valiant and deserving subjects he lost before it. O, speak well of the Duke. I have done. Will't hear some of my Court wisdom? To reprehend Princes is dangerous: and to over-commend some of them is palpable lying. How is it with the Duke? Most deadly ill. he's fallen into a strange distraction. He talks of Battles and Monopolies, Levying of taxes, and from that descends To the most brainsick language. His mind fastens On twenty several objects, which confound Deep Sense with folly. Such a fearful end May teach some men that bear too lofty crest, Though they live happiest, yet they die not best. He hath conferred the whole State of the Dukedom Upon your sister, till the Prince arrive At mature age. There's some good luck in that yet. See here he comes. There's death in's face already.
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 deadly. Most corrupted pollitick hangmā! You kill without booke; but your art to saue Failes you as oft, as great mens needy friends. I that haue giuen life to offending slaues And wretched murderers, haue I not power To lengthen mine owne a twelue-month? Do not kisse me, for I shall poyson thee. This vnction is sent from the great Duke of Florence. Sir bee of comforts O thou soft naturall death, that art ioint-twin, To sweetest slumber: no rough-bearded Comet, Stares on thy milde departure: the dull Owle Beates not against thy casement: the hoarse wolfe Sents not thy carion. Pitty windes thy coarse, Whilst horrour waights on Princes. I am lost for euer. How miserable a thing it is to die, 'Mongst women howling! What are those. Franciscant. They haue brought the extreame vnction. On paine of death, let no man name death to me, It is a word infinitely terrible, Withdraw into our Cabinet To see what solitarinesse is about dying Princes. As heretofore they haue vnpeopled Townes; diuorst friends, and made great houses vnhospitable: so now, ô iustice! where are their flatterers now? Flatterers are but the shadowes of Princes bodies the least thicke cloud makes them inuisible. There's great moane made for him. 'Faith, for some few howers salt water will runne most plentifully in euery Office o'th Court. But beleeue it; most of them do but weepe ouer their step-mothers graues. How meane you? Why? They dissemble, as some men doe that liue within compasse o'th verge. Come you haue thriu'd well vnder him. 'Faith, like a wolfe in a womans breast; I haue beene fed with poultry; but for money, vnderstand me, I had as good a will to cosen him, as e're an Officer of them all. But I had not cunning enough to doe it. What did'st thou thinke of him; 'faith speake freely. Hee was a kinde of States-man, that would sooner haue reckond how many Cannon bullets he had discharged against a Towne, to count his expence that way, than how many of his valiant and deseruing subiects hee lost before it. O, speake well of the Duke. I haue done. Will't heare some of my Court wisedome? To reprehend Princes is dangerous: and to ouer-commend some of them is palpable lying. How is it with the Duke? Most deadly ill. Hee's fall'n into a strange distraction. Hee talkes of Battailes and Monopolies, Leuying of taxes, and from that descends To the most brain-sicke language. His minde fastens On twentie seuerall obiects, which confound Deepe Sence with follie. Such a fearefull end May teach some men that beare too loftie crest, Though they liue happiest, yet they dye not best. Hee hath conferr'd the whole State of the Dukedome Vpon your sister, till the Prince arriue At mature age. There's some good lucke in that yet. See heere he comes. There's death in's face allready.