Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1619 · first performed or written 1610 [c.1610-1611] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.77 · 508 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Then I draw, As justly as our Magistrates their swords, To cut offenders off; I knew before, 'twould grate your ears, but it was base in you To urge a weighty secret from your friend, And then rage at it, I shall be at ease If I be killed, and if you fall by me, I shall not long out live you. Stay a while, The name of friend, is more than family, Or all the world beside; I was a fool, Thou searching human nature, that didst make To do me wrong thou art inquisitive, And thrusts me upon questions that will take My sleep away, would I had died ere known This sad dishonour, pardon me my friend, If thou wilt strike, here is a faithful heart, Pierce it, for I will never heave my hand To thine, behold the power thou hast in me, I do believe my sister is a whore, A leprous one, put up thy sword young man. How should I bear it then she being so, I fear my friend that you will lose me shortly, And I shall do a foul act on myself Through these disgraces. Better half the land Were buried quick together, no Amintor, Thou shalt have ease of this adulterous King That drew her to't, where got he the spirit To wrong me so. What is it then to me? If it be wrong to you. Why not so much, the credit of our house Is thrown away, But from his iron den i'll waken death, And hurl him on this King, my honesty shall steel my sword, and on my horrid point I'll wear my cause, that shall amaze the eyes Of this proud man, and be to glittering For him to look on. I have quite undone my fame. Dry up thy watery eyes, And cast a manly look upon my face, For nothing is so wild as I thy friend Till I have freed thee, still this swelling breast, I go thus from thee, and will never cease My vengeance till I find thy heart at peace. It must not be so, stay, mine eyes would tell How loath I am to this, but love and tears Leave me a while, for I have hazarded All that this world calls happy, thou hast wrought A secret from me under name of friend, Which art could near have found, nor torture wrong From out this bosom, give it me again, For I will find it wheresoe'er it lies Hid in the mortalest part, invent a way To give it back. Why? would you have it back, I will to death pursue him with revenge. Therefore I call it from thee, for I know Thy blood so high, that thou wilt stir in this, take to thy weapon Hear thy friend that bears more years than thou. I will not hear, but draw, or I— Amintor? Draw then, for I am full as resolute As fame, and honour can enforce me, I cannot linger, draw?
nodes 1362–1428 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 22 of 42 in this edition
Length
508 words · 629 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.768 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Then I draw, As iustly as our Magistrates their swords, To cut offenders off; I knew before, Twould grate your eares, but it was base in you To vrge a waighty secret from your friend, And then rage at it, I shall be at ease If I be kild, and if you fall by me, I shall not long out liue you. Stay a while, The name of friend, is more then familie, Or all the world besides; I was a foole, Thou searching humane nature, that didst make To doe me wrong thou art inquisitiue, And thrusts me vpon questions that will take My sleepe away, would I had died ere knowne This sad dishonor, pardon me my friend, If thou wilt strike, here is a faithfull heart, Pearce it, for I will neuer heaue my hand To thine, behold the power thou hast in me, I doe beleeue my sister is a whore, A leprous one, put vp thy sword young man. How should I beare it then she being so, I feare my friend that you will loose me shortly, And I shall doe a foule act on my selfe Through these disgraces. Better halfe the lad Were buried quick together, no Amintor, Thou shalt haue ease of this adulterous King That drew her too't, where got he the spirit To wrong me so. What is it then to me? If it be wrong to you. Why not so much, the credit of our house Is throwne away, But from his iron den ile waken death, And hurle him on this King, my honestie shall steele my sword, and on my horrid point Ile weare my cause, that shall amaze the eyes Of this proud man, and be to glittring For him to looke on. I haue quite vndone my fame. Die vp thy watrie eyes, And cast a manly looke vpon my face, For nothing is so wilde as I thy friend Till I haue freed thee, still this swelling brest, I goe thus from thee, and will neuer cease My vengeance till I finde thy heart at peace. It must not be so, stay, mine eyes would tell How loath I am to this, but loue and teares Leaue me a while, for I haue hazarded All that this world calls happy, thou hast wrought A secret from me vnder name of friend, Which art could nere haue found, nor torture wrong From out this bosome, giue it me agen, For I will finde it where so ere it lies Hid in the mortal'st part, inuent a way To giue it backe. Why? would you haue it backe, I will to death persue him with reuenge. Therefore I call it frō thee, for I know Thy blood so high, that thou wilt stir in this, take to thy weapon Heare thy friend that bears more yeares then thou. I will not heare, but draw, or I — Amintor? Draw then, for I am full as resolute As fame, and honor can inforce me, I cannot linger, draw?