Beaumont, Francis · published 1613 · first performed or written 1607 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.83 · 444 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
'Tis here without sir. So sir, if you please You may conduct it in, I do not fear it. I'll be your Usher boy, for though I say it, He owed me something once, and well did pay it. If there be any punishment inflicted Upon the miserable, more than yet I feel, Let it together cease me, and at once Press down my soul, I cannot bear the pain Of these delaying tortures: thou then art The end of all, and the sweet rest of all; Come, come o death, bring me to thy peace, And blot out all the memory I nourish Both of my father and my cruel friend. O wretched maid still living to be wretched, To be a say to fortune in her changes, And grow to number times and woes together, How happy had I been, if being borne My grave had been my cradle? By your leave Young Mistress, here's a boy hath brought a coffin, What a would say I know not, but your father Charged me to give you notice, here they come. For me I hoped 'tis come, and 'tis most welcome. Fair Mistress let me not add greater grief To that great store you have already; Iasper That whilst he lived was yours, now dead, And here enclosed, commanded me to bring His body hither, and to crave a tear From those fair eyes, though he deserved not pity, To deck his funeral, for so he bid me Tell her for whom he died. He shall have many: Good friends depart a little, whilst I take My leave of this dead man, that once I loved: Hold, yet a little, life and then I give thee To thy first heavenly being; O my friend! Hast thou deceived me thus, and got before me? I shall not long be after, but believe me, Thou wert too cruel Iasper 'gainst thyself, In punishing the fault, I could have pardoned, With so untimely death; thou didst not wrong me, But ever were't most kind, most true, most loving; And I the most unkind, most false, most cruel. Didst thou but ask a tear? I'll give thee all, Even all my eyes can power down, all my sighs And all myself, before thou goest from me There are but sparing rites: But if thy soul Be yet about this place, and can behold And see what I prepare to deck thee with, It shall go up, borne on the wings of peace And satisfied: first will I sing thy dirge, Then kiss thy pale lips, and then die myself, And fill one Coffin and one grave together.
nodes 1375–1428 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 33 of 42 in this edition
Length
444 words · 554 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.833 (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)
'Tis here without sir. So sir, if you please You may conduct it in, I do not feare it. I'le be your Vsher boy, for though I say it, He ow'd me something once, and well did pay it. If there be any punishment inflicted Vpon the miserable, more then yet I feele, Let it together ceaze me, and at once Presse downe my soule, I cannot beare the paine Of these delaying tortures: thou than art The end of all, and the sweete rest of all; Come, come ô death, bring me to thy peace, And blot out all the memory I nourish Both of my father and my cruell friend. O wretched maide still liuing to be wretched, To be a say to fortune in her changes, And grow to number times and woes together, How happy had I bene, if being borne My graue had bene my cradle? By your leaue Yong Mistresse, here's a boy hath brought a coffin, What a would say I know not, but your father Charg'd me to giue you notice, here they come. For me I hop't 'tis come, and 'tis most welcome. Faire Mistresse let me not adde greater griefe To that great store you haue already; Iasper That whilst he liu'd was yours, now dead, And here enclos'd, commanded me to bring His body hither, and to craue a teare From those faire eyes, though he deseru'd not pitty, To decke his funerall, for so he bid me Tell her for whom he di'de. He shall haue many: Good friends depart a little, whilst I take My leaue of this dead man, that once I lou'd: Hold, yet a little, life and then I giue thee To thy first heauenly being; O my friend! Hast thou deceiu'd me thus, and got before me? I shall not long bee after, but beleeue me, Thou wert too cruell Iasper gainst thy selfe, In punishing the fault, I could haue pardoned, With so vntimely death; thou didst not wrong me, But euer wer't most kind, most true, most louing; And I the most vnkind, most false, most cruell. Didst thou but aske a teare? Il'e giue thee all, Euen all my eies can powre downe, all my sigh's And all my selfe, before thou goest from me There are but sparing rites: But if thy soule Be yet about this place, and can behold And see what I prepare to decke thee with, It shall go vp, borne on the wings of peace And satisfied: first will I sing thy dirge, Then kisse thy pale lips, and then die my selfe, And fill one Coffin and one graue together.