The White Devil (Vittoria Corombona) · chunk 49 of 49
Webster, John · published 1612 · first performed or written 1612 [Winter 1612-1613] (Annals) tragedy · Queen Anne's Men unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 458 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
My soul, like to a ship in a black storm, Is driven I know not whither. Then cast anchor. " Prosperity doth bewitch men seeming clear, But seas do laugh, show white, when Rocks are near. " we cease to grieve, cease to be fortunes slaves, Nay cease to die by dying. Art thou gone And thou so near the bottom: false report Which says that women vie with the nine Muses For nine tough durable lives: I do not look Who went before, nor who shall follow me; Noah, at myself I will begin and end: " While we look up to heaven we confound Knowledge with knowledge. o I am in a mist. O happy they that never saw the Court, " Nor ever knew great Man but by report. I recover like a spent taper, for a flash And instantly go out. Let all that belong to Great men remember th' old wives tradition, to be like the lions i'th' Tower on Candlemas day, to mourn if the Sun shine, for fear of the pitiful remainder of winter to come. 'Tis well yet there's some goodness in my death, My life was a black charnel: I have caught An everlasting could. I have lost my voice Most irrecoverably: Farewell glorious villains, " This busy trade of life appears most vain, Since rest breeds rest, where all seek pain by pain. Let no harsh flattering Bells resound my knell, Strike thunder, and strike loud to my farewell. This way, this way, break open the doors, this way. Ha, are we betrayed; Why then let's constantly die all together, And having finished this most noble deed, Defy the worst of fate; not fear to bleed. Keep back the Prince, shoot, shoot, O I am wounded. I fear I shall be ta'en. You bloody villains, By what authority have you committed This massacre. By thine. Mine? Yes, thy uncle, which is a part of thee enjoined us to't. Thou know'st me I am sure, I am Count Lodowick, And thy most noble uncle in disguise Was last night in thy Court. Ha! Yes, that Moore thy father chose his pensioner. He turned murderer; Away with them to prison, and to torture; All that have hands in this, shall taste our justice, As I hope heaven. I do glory yet, That I can call this act mine own: For my part, The rack, the gallows, and the torturing wheel Shall be but sound sleeps to me, here's my rest " I limbed this night-piece and it was my best. Remove the bodies, see my honoured Lord, what use you ought make of their punishment. Let guilty men remember their black deeds, Do lean on crutches, made of slender reeds.
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)
My soule, like to a ship in a blacke storme, Is driuen I know not whither. Then cast ancor. "Prosperity doth bewitch men seeming cleere, "But seas doe laugh, shew white, when Rocks are neere. "Wee cease to greiue, cease to be fortunes slaues, "Nay cease to dye by dying. Art thou gonne▪ And thou so neare the bottome: falce reporte Which saies that woemen vie with the nine Muses For nine tough durable liues: I doe not looke Who went before, nor who shall follow mee; Noe, at my selfe I will begin and end: "While we looke vp to heauen wee confound "Knowledge with knowledge. ô I am in a mist. O happy they that neuer saw the Court, "Nor euer knew great Man but by report. I recouer like a spent taper, for a flash And instantly go out. Let all that belong to Great men remember th' ould wides tradition, to be like the Lyons ith Tower on Candlemas day, to mourne if the Sunne shine, for feare of the pittifull remainder of winter to come. 'Tis well yet there's some goodnesse in my death, My life was a blacke charnell: I haue cought An euerlasting could. I haue lost my voice Most irrecouerably: Farewell glorious villaines, "This busie trade of life appeares most vaine, "Since rest breeds rest, where all seeke paine by paine. Let no harsh flattering Bels resound my knell, Strike thunder, and strike lowde to my farewell. This way, this way, breake ope the doores, this way. Ha, are wee betraid; Why then lets constantly dye all together, And hauing finisht this most noble deede, Defy the worst of fate; not feare to bleed. Keepe backe the Prince, shoot, shoot, O I am wounded. I feare I shall be tane. You bloudy villaines, By what authority haue you committed This Massakre. By thine. Mine? Yes, thy vnckle, which is a part of thee enioyn'd vs to't. Thou knowst me I am sure, I am Cout Lodowicke, And thy most noble vnckle in disguise Was last night in thy Court. Ha! Yes, that Moore thy father chose his pentioner. He turn'd murderer; Away with them to prison, and to torture; All that haue hands in this, shall tast our iustice, As I hope heauen. I do glory yet, That I can call this act mine owne: For my part, The racke, the gallowes, and the torturing wheele Shall bee but sound sleepes to me, here's my rest "I limb'd this night-peece and it was my best. Remoue the bodies, see my honoured Lord, what vse you ought make of their punishment. Let guilty men remember their blacke deedes, Do leane on cruthes, made of slender reedes.