Chapman, George · published 1613 · first performed or written 1610 [c.1610-1611] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Queen's Revels · Whitefriars unassigned nearest T46 Swords, quarrels and valour · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T46: rapier, sword, fight, gentlemen, gentleman, kicked, kill, dagger, signor, valour.
Out on my fortune to wed such an abject. Now is the people's voice, the voice of God; He that to wound a woman vaunts so much, (As he did me) a man dares never touch. Revenge your wounds now madame, I resign him Up to your full will, since he will not fight. First you shall torture him (as he did you, And justice wils) and then pay I my vow. Here, take this poniard. Sink Earth, open Heaven, And let fall vengeance. Come sir, good sir hold him. O shame of women, whither art thou fled! Why (good my Lord) is it a greater shame For her than you? come, I will be the bands You used to her, profaning her fair hands. No sir, I'll fight now, and the terror be Of all you Champions to such as she. I did but thus far dally: now observe, O all you aching foreheads that have robbed, Your hands of weapons, and your hearts of valour, join in me all your rages, and rebutters, And into dust ram this same race of Furies, In this one relic of the Ambois gall, In his one purple soul shed, drown it all. Now give me breathe a while. Receive it freely. What think y'a this now? It is very noble. Had it been free (at least) and of yourself, And thus we see (where valour most doth vaunt) What 'tis to make a coward valiant. Now I shall grace your conquest. That you shall. If you obtain it. True sir, 'tis in fortune. If you were not a D'Ambois, I would scarce Change lives with you, I feel so great a change In my tall spirits breathed, I think, with the breath A D'Ambois breathes here, and necessity (With whose point now pricked on, and so, whose help My hands may challenge, that doth all men conquer, If she except not you, of all men only) May change the case here. True as you are changed, Her power in me urged, makes y'another man, Then yet you ever were. Well, I must on. Your Lordship must by all means. Then at all. Death of my father: what a shame is this, Stick in his hands thus? Gentle sir forbear. Is he not slain yet? No madam, but hurt in divers parts of him. Youhave given it me, And yet I feel life for another vennie, What would you sir? I would perform this Combat. Against which of us? I care not much if 'twere Against thyself: thy sister would have shamed, To have thy Brother's wreak with any man (In single combat) stick so in her fingers. My Sister? know you her? ay sir, she sent him, With this kind Letter, to perform the wreak Of my dear Servant. Now alas good sir, Think you you could do more? Alas? I do, And were't not, ay, fresh, sound, should charge a man Weary, and wounded, I would long ere this, Have proved what I presume on.
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)
Out on my fortune to wed such an abiect. Now is the peoples voyce, the voyce of God; Hee that to wound a vvoman vants so much, (As hee did mee) a man dares neuer touch. Reuenge your wounds now madame, I resigne him Vp to your full vvill, since hee will not fight. First you shall torture him (as hee did you, And Iustice wils) and then pay I my vow. Here, take this Ponyard. Sinke Earth, open Heauen, And let fall vengeance. Come sir, good sir hold him. O shame of women, whither art thou fled! Why (good my Lord) is it a greater shame For her then you? come, I will be the bands You vs'd to her, prophaning her faire hands. No sir, Ile fight now, and the terror be Of all you Champions to such as shee. I did but thus farre dally: now obserue, O all you aking fore-heads that haue rob'd, Your hands of weapons, and your hearts of valour, Ioyne in mee all your rages, and rebutters, And into dust ram this same race of Furies, In this one relicke of the Ambois gall, In his one purple soule shed, drowne it all. Now giue me breath a while. Receiue it freely. What thinke y'a this now? It is very noble. Had it bene free (at least) and of your selfe, And thus wee see (where valour most doth vant) What tis to make a coward valiant. Now I shall grace your conquest. That you shall. If you obtaine it. True sir, tis in fortune. If you were not a D'Ambois, I would scarce Change liues with you, I feele so great a change In my tall spirits breath'd, I thinke, with the breath A D'Ambois breathes here, and necessitie (With whose point now prickt on, and so, vvhose helpe My hands may challege, that doth all men conquer, If shee except not you, of all men onely) May change the case here. True as you are chang'd, Her power in me vrg'd, makes y'another man, Then yet you euer were. Well, I must on. Your Lordship must by all meanes. Then at all. Death of my father: what a shame is this, Sticke in his hands thus? Gentle sir forbeare. Is he not slaine yet? No Madame, but hurt in diuers parts of him. Y'haue giuen it me, And yet I feele life for another vennie, What would you sir? I would performe this Combat. Against which of vs? I care not much if twere Against thy selfe: thy sister would haue sham'd, To haue thy Brothers wreake with any man (In single combat) sticke so in her fingers. My Sister? know you her? I sir, shee sent him, With this kinde Letter, to performe the vvreake Of my deare Seruant. Now alas good sir, Thinke you you could doe more? Alas? I doe, And wer't not, I, fresh, sound, should charge a man Weary, and vvounded, I would long ere this, Haue prou'd what I presume on.