The White Devil (Vittoria Corombona) · chunk 47 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 0.78 · 488 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
And remember What villainies thou hast acted. This thy death, Shall make me like a blazing ominous star, Look up and tremble. O I am caught with a spring! You see the Fox comes many times short ho me, 'Tis here proved true. Killed with a couple of branches. No fitter offering for the infernal furies Then one in whom they reigned while he was living. O the ways dark and horrid! I cannot see, Shall I have no company? O yes thy sins, Do run before thee to fetch fire from hell, To light thee thither. O I smell soot, most sinking soot, the chimneys afire, My livers purboiled like scotch holly-bread; There's a plumber, laying pipes in my guts, it scalds; Wilt thou outlive me? Yes, and drive a stake Through thy body; for we'll give it out, Thou didst this violence upon thyself. O cunning Devils! now I have tried your love, And doubled all your reaches. I am not wounded: The pistols held no bullets: 'twas a plot To prove your kindness to me; and I live To punish your ingratitude, I knew One time or other you would find a way To give me a strong potion, ò Men That lie upon your deathbeds, and are haunted With howling wives, near trust them, they'll remarry Ere the worm pierce your winding sheet: ere the Spider Make a thin curtain for your Epitaphs. How cunning you were to discharge? Do you practise at the Artillery yard? Trust a woman; never, never; Brachiano be my precedent: we lay our souls to pawn to the Devil for a little pleasure, and a woman makes the bill of sale. That ever man should marry! For one Hypermnestra that saved her Lord and husband, forty nine of her sisters cut their husband's throats all in one night. There was a shoal of virtuous horseleeches. Here are two other Instruments. Help, help. What noise is that? hah? false keys i'th' Court. We have brought you a Mask. A matachine it By your drawn swords. (seems, Churchmen turned revellers. Isabella, Isabella, Do you know us now? Lodovico and Gasparo. Yes and that Moore the Duke gave pension to Was the great Duke of Florence. O we are lost. You shall not take justice from forth my hands, O let me kill her.— I'll cut my safety Through your coats of steel: Fate's a Spaniel, we cannot beat it from us: what remains now? Let all that do ill, take this precedent: Man may his Fate foresee, but not prevent. And of all Axioms this shall win the prize, 'Tis better to be fortunate then wise. Bind him to the pillar. O your gentle pity: I have seen a blackbird that would sooner fly To a man's bosom, than to stay the gripe Of the fierce sparrow-hawk. Your hope deceives you. If Florence be i'th' Court, would he would kill me.
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)
And remēber What villanies thou hast acted. This thy death, Shall make me like a blazing ominous starre, Looke vp and tremble. O I am caught with a springe! You see the Fox comes many times short ho me, 'Tis here prou'd true. Kild with a couple of braches. No fitter offring for the infernall furies Then one in whom they raign'd while hee was liuing. O the waies darke and horrid! I cannot see, Shall I haue no company? O yes thy sinnes, Do runne before thee to fetch fire from hell, To light thee thither. O I smell soote, most sinking soote, the chimneis a fire, My liuers purboil'd like scotch holly-bread; There's a plumber, laying pipes in my guts, it scalds; Wilt thou out-liue mee? Yes, and driue a stake Through thy body; for we'le giue it out, Thou didst this violence vpon thy selfe. O cunning Deuils! now I haue tri'd your loue, And doubled all your reaches. I am not wounded: The pistols held no bullets: 'twas a plot To proue your kindnesse to mee; and I liue To punish your ingratitude, I knew One time or other you would finde a way To giue me a strong potion, ò Men That lye vpon your death-beds, and are haunted With howling wiues, neere trust them, they'le re-marry Ere the worme peirce your winding sheete: ere the Spider Make a thinne curtaine for your Epitaphes. How cunning you were to discharge? Do you practise at the Artillery yard? Trust a woman; neuer, neuer; Brachiano bee my president: we lay our soules to pawne to the Deuill for a little pleasure, and a woman makes the bill of sale. That euer man should marry! For one Hypermnestra that sau'd her Lord and husband, forty nine of her sisters cut their husbands throates all in one night. There was a shole of vertuous horse-leeches. Here are two other Instruments. Helpe, helpe. What noise is that? hah? falce keies i'th Court. We haue brought you a Maske. A matachine it By your drawne swords. (seemes, Chuch-men turn'd reuellers. Isabella, Isabella, Doe you know vs now? Lodouico and Gasparo. Yes and that Moore the Duke gaue pention to Was the great Duke of Florence. O wee are lost. You shall not take Iustice from forth my hands, O let me kill her.—Ile cut my safty Through your coates of steele: Fate's a Spaniell, Wee cannot beat it from vs: what remaines now? Let all that doe ill, take this president: Man may his Fate foresce, but not preuent. And of all Axiomes this shall winne the prise, 'Tis better to be fortunate then wise. Bind him to the pillar. O your gentle pitty: I haue seene a black-bird that would sooner fly To a mans bosome, then to stay the gripe Of the feirce Sparrow-hawke. Your hope deceiues you. If Florence be ith Court, would hee would kill mee.