Dekker, Thomas / Massinger, Philip · published 1622 · first performed or written 1620 [licensed for stage, Oct 6; revised and re-licensed for stage, Jul 7, 1624] (Annals) tragedy · Red Bull (Revels) Company (first) unassigned nearest T5 Christian faith, sin and salvation · 477 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T5: god, christ, david, sin, holy, israel, lord, mercy, sins, faith.
And therefore I prithee Angelo, if thou hast another purse, let it be confiscate, and brought to devastation. Are you made all of lies? I know which way Your gilt-winged pieces flew; I will no more Be mocked by you: be sorry for your riots, Tame your wild flesh by labour, eat the bread Got with hard hands: let sorrow be your whip To draw drops of repentance from your heart, When I read this amendment in your eyes, You shall not want, till then my pity dies. Is't not a shame that this scurvy Puerilis should give us lessons? I have dwelled thou know'st A long time in the Suburbs of the conscience, and they are ever bawdy, but now my heart shall take a house within the walls of honesty. O you drawers of wine, draw me no more to the bar of Beggary; the sound of Score a pottle of sack, is worse than the noise of a scolding oyster wench, or two Cats incorporating. This must not be, I do not like when conscience Thaws, keep her frozen still: how now my masters? Dejected, drooping, drowned in tears, clothes torn, Lean, and ill coloured, sighing! what's the whirlwind Which raiseth all these mischiefs? I have seen you Drawn better on't. O! but a spirit told me You both would come to this, when in you thrust yourselves into the service of that Lady, Who shortly now must die; where's now her praying What good get you by wearing your our feet, To run on scurvy errands to the poor, And to bear money to a sort of rogues, And lousy prisoners. A pox on'em, I never prospered since I did it. Had I been a Pagan still, I could not have spit white for want of drink, but come to any Vintner now and bid him trust me, because I turned Christian, and he cries puh, You're rightly served; before that peevish Lady Had to do with you, women, wine, and money Flowed in abundance with you, did it not? Oh! those days, those days. Beat not your breasts, tear not your hair in madness Those days shall come again be ruled by me, And better (mark me) better. I have seen you sir as I take it, an attendant on the Lord Theophilus. Yes, yes, in show his servant, but hark hither. Take heed nobody listens. Not a Mouse stirs. I am a Prince disguised. Disguised! how! drunk, Yes my fine boy, I'll drink to, and be drunk, I am a Prince, and anyaman by me (Let him but keep my rules) shall soon grow rich, Exceeding rich, most infinitely rich, He that shall serve me, is not starved from pleasures As other poor knaves are; no, take their fill, But that sir, we are so ragged... You'll say, you'd serve me.
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)
And therefore I prethee Angelo, if thou hast another purse, let it be confiscate, and brought to deuastation. Are you made all of lyes? I know which way Your gilt-wing'd peeces flew; I will no more Be mock'd by you: be sorry for your ryots, Tame your wilde flesh by labor, eate the bread Got with hard hands: let sorrow be your whip To draw drops of repentance from your heart, When I reade this amendment in your eyes, You shall not want, till then my pitty dies. Ist not a shame that this scuruy Puerilis should giue vs lessons? I haue dwelt thou knowst along time in the Subvrbs of the conscience, and they are euer bawdy, but now my heart shall take a house within the walls of honesty. O you drawers of wine, draw me no more to the bar of Beggery; the sound of Score a pottle of sack, is worse then the noyse of a scolding oyster wench, or two Cats incorporating. This must not be, I doe not like when conscience Thawes, keepe her frozen still: how now my masters? Deiected, drooping, drownd in teares, clothes torne, Leane, and ill colour'd, sighing! whats the whitlewinde Which raiseth all these mischiefes? I haue seene you Drawne better on't. O! but a spirit told me You both would come to this, when in you thrust Your selues into the seruice of that Lady, Who shortly now must die; where's now her praying What good get you by wearing your our feete, To run on scurny errands to the poore, And to beare money to a sort of rogues, And lowsie prisoners. A pox on'em, I neuer prosperd since I did it. Had I bin a Pagan stil, I could not haue spit white for want of drinke, but come to any Vintner now and bid him trust me, because I turnd Christian, and he cries puh, Y'are righly seru'd; before that peeuish Lady Had to doe with you, weomen, wine, and money Flow'd in aboundance with you, did it not? Oh! those dayes, those dayes. Beat not your breasts, teare not your haire in madnes Those dayes shall come agen be rulde by me, And better (marke me) better. I haue seen you sir as I take it, an attendant on the Lord Theophilus. Yes, yes, in shew his seruant, but harke hither. Take heed no body listens. Not a Mouse stirres. I am a Prince disguisde. Disguisde! how! drunke, Yes my fine boye, Ile drinke to, and be drunke, I am a Prince, and anyaman by me (Let him but keepe my rules) shall soone grow rich, Exceeding rich, most infinitely rich, He that shall serue me, is not staru'd from pleasures As other poore knaues are; no, take their fill, But that sir, we are so ragged... Youle say, you'd serue me.