The White Devil (Vittoria Corombona) · chunk 46 of 49
Webster, John · published 1612 · first performed or written 1612 [Winter 1612-1613] (Annals) tragedy · Queen Anne's Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.70 · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Leave your prating, For these are but grammatical laments, Feminine arguments, and they move me As some in Pulpits move their Auditory More with their exclamation then sense Of reason, or sound Doctrine. Gentle Madam Seem to consent, only persuade him teach The way to death; let him die first. 'Tis good, I apprehend it, To kill one's self is meat that we must take Like pills, not chew't, but quickly swallow it, The smart a'th' wound, or weakness of the hand May else bring treble torments. I have held it A wretched and most miserable life, Which is not able to die. O but frailty! Yet I am now resolved, farewell affliction; Behold Brachiano, I that while you lived Did make a flaming Altar of my heart To sacrifice unto you; Now am ready To sacrifice heart and all. Farewell Zanche. How Madam! Do you think that I'll outlive you? Especially when my best self Flamineo Goes the same voyage. O most loved Moore! Only by all my love let me entreat you; Since it is most necessary none of us Do violence on ourselves; let you or I Be her sad taster, teach her how to die. Thou dost instruct me nobly, take these pistols, Because my hand is stained with blood already: Two of these you shall level at my breast, Th'other 'gainst your own, and so we'll die, Most equally contented: But first swear Not to outlive me. Most religiously. Then here's an end of me: farewell daylight And o contemptible Physic! that dost take So long a study, only to preserve So short a life, I take my leave of thee. These are two cupping-glasses, that shall draw All my infected blood out, Are you ready? Ready. Whither shall I go now? O Lucian thy ridiculous Purgatory to find Alexander the great cobbling shoes, Pompey tagging points, and Iulius Caesar; making hair buttons, Hannibal selling blacking, and Augustus crying garlic, Charlemagne selling lists by the dozen, and King Pippin crying Apples in a cart drawn with one horse. Whether I resolve to Fire, Earth, water, Air, Or all the Elements by scruples; I know not Nor greatly care,— Shoot, Of all deaths the violent death is best, For from ourselves it steals ourselves so fast The pain once apprehended is quite past. What are you dropped. I am mixed with Earth already: As you are Noble Perform your vows, and bravely follow me. Whither to hell, To most assured damnation. O thou most cursed devil. Thou art caught In thine own Engine, I tread the fire out That would have been my ruin. Will you be perjured? what a religious oath was Styx that the Gods never durst swear by and violate? o that we had such an oath to minister, and to be so well kept in our Courts of justice. Think whither thou art going.
nodes 2872–2934 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 46 of 49 in this edition
Length
482 words · 642 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.699 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T10 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Leaue your prating, For these are but grammaticall laments, Feminine arguments, and they moue me As some in Pulpits moue their Auditory More with their exclamation then sence Of reason, or sound Doctrine. Gentle Madam Seeme to consent, onely perswade him teach The way to death; let him dye first. 'Tis good, I apprehend it, To kill one's selfe is meate that we must take Like pils, not chew't, but quickly swallow it, The smart a'th wound, or weakenesse of the hand May else bring trebble torments. I haue held it A wretched and most miserable life, Which is not able to dye. O but frailty! Yet I am now resolu'd, farewell affliction; Behold Brachiano, I that while you liu'd Did make a flaming Altar of my heart To sacrifice vnto you; Now am ready To sacrifice heart and all. Fare-well Zanche. How Madam! Do you thinke that I'le out-liue you? Especially when my best selfe Flamineo Goes the same voiage. O most loued Moore! Onely by all my loue let me entreat you; Since it is most necessary none of vs Do violence on our selues; let you or I Be her sad taster, teach her how to dye. Thou dost instruct me nobly, take these pistols, Because my hand is stain'd with bloud already: Two of these you shall leuell at my brest, Th'other gainst your owne, and so we'le dye, Most equally contented: But first sweare Not to out-liue me. Most religiously. Then here's an end of me: fare-well day-light And ô contemtible Physike! that dost take So long a study, onely to preserue So short a life, I take my leaue of thee. These are two cupping-glasses, that shall draw All my infected bloud out, Are you ready? Ready. Whither shall I go now? O Lucian thy ridiculous Purgatory to finde Alexander the great cobling shooes, Pompey tagging points, and Iulius Caesar; making haire buttons, Haniball selling blacking, and Augustus crying garlike, Charlemaigne selling lists by the dozen, and King Pippin crying Apples in a cart drawn with one horse. Whether I resolue to Fire, Earth, water, Aire, Or all the Elements by scruples; I know not Nor greatly care,—Shoote, shoote, Of all deaths the violent death is best, For from our selues it steales our selues so fast The paine once apprehended is quite past. What are you drop't. I am mixt with Earth already: As you are Noble Performe your vowes, and brauely follow mee. Whither to hell, To most assured damnation. O thou most cursed deuill. Thou art caught In thine owne Engine, I tread the fire out That would haue bene my ruine. Will you be periur'd? what a religious oath was Stix that the Gods neuer durst sweare by and violate? ô that wee had such an oath to minister, and to be so well kept in our Courts of Iustice. Thinke whither thou art going.