Field, Nathan · published 1618 · first performed or written 1611 [c.1610-1611] (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels · Blackfriars T11 Siblings, kin and confidants typicality 0.88 · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
Give me my sister, I'll have her forth thy heart. No earthly Lord can pull her out of that, Till he have plucked my heart first out, my Lord Were't not inhospitable, I could wrong you here In mine own house. I am so full of woe, For your lost sister that by all my joys Hop't for in her, my heart weeps tears of blood, A whiter virgin, and a worthier, Had ne'er creation: Leda's Swan was black To her virginity, and immaculate thoughts. Where hast thou hid her? give her me again, For by the God of vengeance, be she lost, The female hate shall spring betwixt our names, Shall never die, while one of either house Survives, our children shall at seven years old Strike knives in one another. Let Hell gape And take me quick, if I know where she is, But am so charged with sorrow for her loss, Being one cause of it (as no doubt I am) That I had rather fall upon my sword Then breathe a minute longer. Oh sir! hold. Thou shalt not need, I have a sword to bathe In thy false blood, inhuman murderer. Good Sir be pacified, i'll go, i'll run Many a mile to find your sister out; She never was so desperate of grace, By violence to rob herself of life, And so her soul in danger; comfort Sir, she's but retired somewhere on my life. Prithee let me alone— Do I stand to defend that wretched life That is in doubt of hers, here worthy Lord, Behold a breast, framed of thy sister's love, Hew it, for thou shalt strike but on a stock, Since she is gone that was the cause it lived. Out false dissembler, are not married? No, behold, it is my younger brother dressed, A man, no woman, that hath gulled the world, Intended for a happier event Than this that followed, that she now is gone, Oh fond experiments of simple man, Fool to thy fate, since all thy project meant But mirth, is now converted unto death. Oh do not burst me joy, that modesty Would let me show myself to finish all. Nay, then thou hast my sister somewhere villain, 'tis plain now, thou wilt steal thy marriage, She is no match for thee, assure thyself. If all the law in England, or my friends Can cross it, 'tshall not be. Would 'twere so well, And that I knew the Lady to be safe. Give me no ill words; Sir, this Boy and I Will wander like to pilgrims, till we find her: If you do love her as you talk, do so: The love or grief that is expressed in words, Is sleight and easy, 'tis but shallow woe That makes a noise, deep'st water's stillest go; I love her better than thy parents did, Which is beyond a Brother.
nodes 765–826 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 17 of 36 in this edition
Length
484 words · 626 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T11 — Siblings, kin and confidantscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.879 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T15 · seed 44: T12 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Giue me my sister, Ile haue her forth thy heart. No earthly Lord can pull her out of that, Till he haue pluckt my heart first out, my Lord Wer't not inhospitable, I could wrong you heere In mine owne house▪ I am so full of woe, For your lost sister that by all my ioyes Hop't for in her, my heart weepes teares of bloud, A whiter virgine, and a worthier, Had ne're creation: Lda's Swan was black To her virginitie, and immaculate thoughts. Where hast thou hid her? giue her me againe, For by the God of vengeance, be she lost, The female hate shall spring betwixt our names, Shall neuer die, while one of either house Suruiues, our children shall at seuen yeares olde Strike kniues in one another. Let Hell gape And take me quick, if I know where she is, But am so charg'd with sorrow for her losse, Being ne cause of it (as no doubt I am) That I had rather al vpon my sword Then breath a minute longer. Oh sir! hold. Thou shalt not neede, I haue a sword to bthe In thy false blood, inhumane murderer. Good Sir be pacified, i'le goe, i'le run Many a mile to finde your sister out; Shee neuer was so desperate of grace, By violence to rob her selfe of life, And so her soule in danger; comfort Sir, Shee's but retir'd somewhere on my life. Preethee let me alone— Doe I stand to defend that wretched life That is in doubt of hers, heere worthy Lord, Behold a breast, fram'd of thy sisters loue, Hew it, for thou shalt strike but on a stock, Since she is gone that was the cause it liu'd. Out false dissembler, are not married? No, behold, it is my yonger brother drest, A man, no woman, that hath guld the world, Intended for a happier euent Than this that follow'd, that she now is gone, Oh fond experiments of simple man, Foole to thy fate, since all thy project man't But mirth, is now conuerted vnto death. Oh doe not burst me joy, that modestie Would let me show my selfe to finish all. Nay, then thou hast my sister somewhere villain, T'is plaine now, thou wilt steale thy marriage, Shee is no match for thee, assure thy selfe. If all the law in England, or my friends Can crosse it, tshall not be. Would t'were so well, And that I knew the Ladie to be safe. Giue me no ill words; Sir, this Boy and I Will wander like to Pilgrimes, till we finde her: If you doe loue her as you talke, doe so: The loue or griefe that is exprest in words, Is sleight and easie, t'is but shallow woe That makes a noise, deep'st waters stillest goe; I loue her better then thy parents did, Which is beyond a Brother.