Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1616 · first performed or written 1613 [1613-1616] (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels · Blackfriars T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.79 · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
You and your cruelty have killed him woman; And such a man (let me be angry in't) Whose least worth weighed above all women's virtues That are, I spare you all to come too: guess him now. I am so innocent I cannot Sir. Repent you mean: you are a perfect woman, And as the first was, made for man's undoing. Sir you have missed your way, I am not she. Would he had missed his way too, though he had Wandered farther than women are ill spoken of, So he had missed this misery, you Lady. How do you do Sir? I hope, While I can keep myself from such temptations. Pray leap into this matter, whither would ye? You had a Servant that your peevishness Enjoined to travel. Such a one I have Still, and should be grieved 'twere otherwise. Then have your asking, and be grieved, he's dead; How you will answer for his worth I know not, But this I am sure, either he, or you, or both Were stark mad, else he might have lived To have given a stronger testimony toth' world Of what he might have been. He was a man I knew but in his evening: ten Suns after, forced by a tyrant storm our beaten bark Bulged under us; in which sad parting blow, He called upon his Saint, but not for life, On you unhappy woman; and whilst all Sought to preserve their souls, he desperately Embraced a wave, crying to all that see it, If any live, go to my Fate, that forced me To this untimely end, and make her happy: His name was Lovelesse: And I 'scaped the storm. And now you have my business. 'tis too much. Would I had been that storm, he had not perished. If you'll rail now I will forgive you Sir, Or if you'll call in more, if any more Come from this ruin, I shall justly suffer What they can say: I do confess myself A guilty cause in this. I would say more, But grief is grown to great to be delivered. I like this well: these women are strange things. 'tis somewhat of the latest now to weep, You should have wept when he was going from you, And chained him with those tears at home. Would you had told me then so, these two arms had been his Sea. Trust me you move me much: but say he lived, these were forgotten things again. ay, say you so? Sure I should know that voice: this is knavery. I'll fit you for it: Were he living sir, I would persuade you to be charitable, ay, and confess we are not all so ill as your opinion holds us. O my friend, what penance shall I pull upon my fault, upon my most unworthy self for this? Leave to love others, 'twas some jealousy That turned him desperate. I'll be with you straight: are you wrung there?
nodes 582–635 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 20 of 46 in this edition
Length
498 words · 638 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.790 (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)
You and your crueltie haue kild vvoman; And such a man (let me be angry in't) VVhose least vvorth vvaighed aboue all vveomens vertues That are, I spare you all to come too: guesse him now. I am so innocent I cannot Sir. Repen you meane: you are a perfect vvoman, And as the first was, made for mans vndoing. Sir you haue mist your way, I am not she. VVould he had mist his vvay too, though hee had VVandered farther vveomen are ill spoken of, So he had this misery, you Lady. How doe you doe Sir? I hope, While I can keepe my selfe from such temptations. Pray leape into this matter, whither would yee? You had a Seruant that your peenishnes Inioyned to trauell. Such a one I haue , and should be grieued 'twere otherwise. Then haue your asking, and be grieu'd, hee's dead; How you will answere for his worth I know not, But this I am sure, eyther he, or you, or both Were starke mad, else he might haue liu'd To haue giuen a stronger testimony toth' world Of what he might haue beene. He was a man I knew but in his euening: ten Sunnes after, by a tyrant storme our beaten barke Bulg'd vnder vs; in which sad parting blow, He cal'd vpon his Saint, but not for life, On you vnhappy woman; and whilst all Sought to preserue their soules, he desperately Imbrac't a waue, crying to all that see it, If any liue, goe to my Fate, that forc't me To this vntimely end, and make her happy: His name was Louelesse: And I scap't the storme. And now you haue my businesse. Tis too much. VVould I had beene that storme, he had not perisht. If you'le raile now I will forgiu you Sir, Or if you'le call in more, if any more Come from this ruine, I shall iustly suffer VVhat they can say: I doe confesse my selfe A guilty cause in this. I would say more, But griefe is growne to great to be deliuered. I like this well: these weomen are strange things. Tis somewhat of the latest now to weepe, You should haue wept when he was going from you, And chain'd him with those teares at home. VVould you had told me then so, these two armes had beene his Sea. Trust mee you mooue me much: but say he liued, these were forgotten things againe. I, say you so? Sure I should know that voyce: this is knauery. Ile fit you for it: Were h liuing sir, I would perswade you to be charitable, I, and confesse we are not all so ill as your opinion holds vs. O my friend, what penance shall I pull vpon my fault, vpon my most vnworthy selfe for this? Leaue to loue others, 'twas some jealousie That turn'd him desperate. Ile be with you straight: are you wrung there?