Marston, John / Machin, Lewis / Barkstead, William · published 1613 · first performed or written 1607 [c.1607-1608; revised 1609-1613] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Queen's Revels (?); Children of the King's Revels (?) · Whitefriars T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.87 · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
By my dead father's soul, my mother's virtues, And by my knight hood and gentility; I'll be revenged On all the Authors of your Obloquy: Name him. Rogero. Ha. What does his name affright thee coward Lord? Be mad Isabella, curse on thy revenge, This Lord was knighted for his father's worth, Not for his own. Farewell thou perjured man, I'll leave you all, You all conspire to work mine honours fall. Stay my Isabella, were he my father's son, Composed of me, he dies, Delight still keep with thee: go in. Thou art just: Revenge to me is sweeter now than lust. What mean you Nobles, will you kill each other? Hold. Thou shame to friendship, what intends thy hate? Loue Arms my hand, makes my soul valiant, Isabella's wrongs now sits upon my sword, To fall more heavy to thy coward's head, Than thunderbolts upon Ioues rifted Oaks: Deny thy scandal, or defend thy life. What? hath thy faith and and reason left thee both? That thou art only flesh without a soul: Hast thou no feeling of thyself and me? Blind rage that will not let thee see thyself. I come not to dispute but execute: And thus comes death. And thus I break thy dart, her's at thy whore's face. 'Tis missed: here's at thy heart, stay, let us breathe. Let reason govern rage, yet let us leave, Although most wrong be mine, I can forgive: In this attempt, thy shame will ever live. Thou hast wronged the Phoenix of all women rarest, She that's most wise, most loving, chaste and fairest. Thou dotest upon a devil, not a woman, That has bewitched thee with her Sorcery, And drowned thy soul in Lethy faculties, Her useless lust has benumbed thy knowledge, Thy intellectual powers, oblivion smothers, That thou art nothing but forgetfulness. What's this to my Isabella, my sins mine own, Her faults were none, until thou madest 'em known. Leave her, and leave thy shame where first thou found'st it; Else live a bondslave to diseased lust, Devoured in her gulf-like appetite And infamy shall write thy Epitaph, Thy memory leaves nothing but thy crimes, A scandal to thy name in future times. Put up your weapon, I dare hear you further, Insatiate lust is Sire still to murder. Believe it friend, if her heart blood were vexed, Though you kill me, new pleasure makes you next: She loved me dearer, than she loves you now, she'll near be faithful, has twice broke her vow. This curse pursues female Adultery, They'll swim through blood for sins variety: Their pleasure like a sea groundless and wide, A woman's lust was never satisfied. Fear whispers in my breast, I have a soul That blushes red, for tending bloody facts, Forgive me friend, if I can be forgiven, Thy counsel is the path leads me to heaven. I do embrace thy reconciled love.
Marston, John / Machin, Lewis / Barkstead, William
Publication year (edition)
1613
First performance / composition (Annals)
1607 [c.1607-1608; revised 1609-1613]
First performance (BritDrama)
1610 [1608-1613]
Company (BritDrama)
Children of the Queen's Revels (?); Children of the King's Revels (?)
Theater
Whitefriars;Indoor Professional
Genre (British Drama)
tragedy
Play type
Boys Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 721 · TCP A07067 · DEEP 599
Edition role
Representative edition — used in the analysis
Position
nodes 1443–1508 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 28 of 40 in this edition
Length
485 words · 672 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.873 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
By my dead fathers soule, my mothers vertues, And by my knight hood and gentilitie; Ile be reueng'd On all the Authors of your Obloquie: Name him. Rogero. Ha. What does his name affright thee coward Lord? Be mad Isabella, curse on thy reuenge, This Lord was knighted for his fathers worth, Not for his owne. Farewell thou periur'd man, Ile leaue you all, You all conspire to worke mine honors fall. Stay my Isabella, were he my fathers sonne, Composed of me, he dies, Delight still keepe with thee: goe in. Thou art iust: Reuenge to me is sweeter now then lust. What meane you Nobles, will you kill each other? Hold. Thou shame to friendship, what intends thy hate? Loue Armes my hand, makes my soule valiant, Isabellas wrongs now sits vpon my sword, To fall more heauie to thy cowards head, Then thunderbolts vpon Ioues rifted Oakes: Deny thy scandall, or defend thy life. What? hath thy faith and and reason left thee both? That thou art onely flesh without a soule: Hast thou no feeling of thy selfe and me? Blind rage that will not let thee see thy selfe. I come not to dispute but execute: And thus comes death. And thus I breake thy dart, her's at thy whores face. 'Tis mist: here's at thy heart, stay, let vs breath. Let reason gouerne rage, yet let vs leaue, Although most wrong be mine, I can forgiue: In this attempt, thy shame will euer liue. Thou hast wrong'd the Phenix of all women rarest, She that's most wise, most louing, chaste and fairest. Thou dotest vpon a diuell, not a woman, That ha's bewitcht thee with her Sorcerie, And drown'd thy soule in leathy faculties, Her vselesse lust has benumb'd thy knowledge, Thy intelectuall powers, obliuion smothers, That thou art nothing but forgetfulnesse. What's this to my Isabella, my sinnes mine owne, Her faults were none, vntill thou madest 'em knowne. Leaue her, and leaue thy shame where first thou found'st it; Else liue a bondslaue to diseased lust, Deuour'd in her gulfe-like appetite And infamy shall write thy Epitaph, Thy memory leaues nothing but thy crimes, A scandall to thy name in future times. Put vp your weapon, I dare here you further, Insatiat lust is Sire still to murther. Beleeue it friend, if her heart bloud were vext, Though you kill me, new pleasure makes you next: She lou'd me deerer, then she loues you now, Shee'll nere be faithfull, has twice broke her vow. This curse pursues femall Adulterie, They'l swimme through blood for sinnes varietie: Their pleasure like a sea groundlesse and wide, A womans lust was neuer satisfied. Feare whispers in my brest, I haue a soule That blushes red, for tending bloudy facts, Forgiue me friend, if I can be forgiuen, Thy counsell is the path leades me to heauen. I doe embrace thy reconciled loue.