Philaster, or Love Lies a-Bleeding · chunk 21 of 40
Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1620 · first performed or written 1609 [May(?)] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Globe unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 510 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Oh my heart! This is a salve worse than the main deceit, Tell me thy thoughts, for I will know the least That dwells within thee, or will rip thy heart, To know it, I will see thy thoughts as plain, As I do now thy face. Why so you do: she is for aught I know, by all the gods, As chaste as ice: but were she foul as hell, And I did know it thus, the breath of Kings, The points of swords, tortures, nor bulls of brass, Should wrack it from me. Then 'tis no time to dally with thee, I will take thy life, For I do hate thee, I could curse thee now. If you do hate me, you could not curse me worse, The gods have not a punishment in store, To me, then is your hate. Fie, fie, so young and so dissembling, tell me when & where, Thou didst enjoy her, or let plagues fall upon me, If I destroy thee not. By heaven I never did, and when I lie to save my life, May I live long and loathed, hew me asunder, And whilst I can think, i'll love those pieces you have cut away Better than those that grow, and kiss those limbs Because you made 'em so. Fear'st thou not death, can boys contemn that. Oh! what boy is he could be content to live To be a man, that sees the best of men thus passionate, Thus without reason. O thou dost not know what 'tis to die. Yes, I do know my Lord 'tis less than to be borne, A lasting sleep, a quiet resting from all jealousy, A thing we all pursue: I know beside, it is but giving over again, That must be lost. But there are pains false boy, For perjured, souls: think but those, and then thy heart will melt, And than thou wilt utter all. May they fall all upon me, whilst I live, If I be perjured, or have ever thought of that you charge me with, If I be false, send me to suffer in those punishments you speak of Kill me. Oh! What should I do, why who can but believe him? He does swear so earnestly, that if it were not true, the gods would not endure him. Rise Bellario, thy protestations are so deep, and thou dost look so truly when thou utterest them, that though I knew 'em false, as were my hopes, I cannot urge thee further, but thou wert too blame to envy me: for I must love thy honest looks, and take no revenge upon thy honest looks: a love from me to thee is firm, whate'er thou dost, it troubles me, that I have called thy blood out of thy cheeks, that did so well become thee: But good boy let me not see thee more, something is done, that will distract me, that will make me mad, if I behold thee, if thou tenderest me, let me not see thee.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Oh my heart! This is a salue worse then the maine deceit, Tell me thy thoughts, for I will know the least That dwels within thee, or will rip thy heart, To know it, I will see thy thoughts as plaine, As I doe now thy face. Why so you doe: she is for ought I know, by all the gods, As chast as ice: but were she foule as hell, And I did know it thus, the breath of Kings, The points ofswords, tortures, nor buls of brasse, Should wrack it from me. Then tis no time to dallie with thee, I will take thy life, For I doe hate thee, I could curse thee now. Ifyou do hate me, you could not curse me worse, The gods haue not a punishment in store, To me, then is your hate. Fie, fie, so young and so dissembling, tell me when & where, Thou didst inioy her, or let plagues fall vpon me, If I destroy thee not. By heauen I neuer did, and when I lie to saue my life, May I liue long and loathed, hew me asunder, And whilst I can thinke, i'le loue those pieces you haue cut away Better then those that grow, and kisse those limbes Because you made vm so. Fear'st thou not death, can boyes contemne that. Oh! what boy is he could be content to liue To be a man, that sees the best of men thus passionate, Thus without reason. O thou dost not know what tis to die. Yes, I doe know my Lord tis lesse then to be borne, A lasting sleepe, a quiet resting from all iealousie, A thing we all persue: I know besides, it is but giuing ore againe, That must be lost. But there are paines false boy, For periur'd, soules: think but those, and then thy heart will melt, And then thou wilt vtter all. May they fall all vpon me, whilst I liue, If I be periur'd, or haue euer thought of that you charge me with, If I be false, send mee to suffer in those punishments you speake of Kill me. Oh! What should I doe, why who can but beleeue him? Hee dos sweare so earnestly, that if it were not true, the gods would not indure him. Rise Bellario, thy protestaions are so deepe, and thou dost looke so truely when thou vtterest them, that though I knew vm false, as were my hopes, I cannot vrge thee further, but thou wert too blame to iniuie me: for I must loue thy honest lookes, and take no reuenge vpon thy honest lookes: a loue from mee to thee is firme, what ere thou dost, it troubles me, that I haue cald thy blood out of thy cheekes, that did so well become thee: But good boy let me not see thee more, something is done, that will distract me, that will make mee mad, if I behold thee, if thou tenderest mee, let me not see thee.