Markham, Gervase / Sampson, William · published 1622 · first performed or written 1622 [c.1619-1622] (Annals) tragedy · Red Bull (Revels) Company (first) · Red Bull unassigned nearest T3 Sickness, physic and doctors · 528 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
O Madam, 'tis Too late now to excuse it; pain, O pain, Tyrannous pain hath torn all from my Bosom: The Viol which I gave you, and the drops, Is that his Highness urges. I do confess them; Here is the Viol and the drops: from this, What can your malice gather? That your intent Was, therewith to destroy me. O, you Gods! What's life, when This can take it? This, this drop; This little paltry nothing. Sir, 'tis false I never did intend your injury. What not intend it? Blushless impudence! If you be made my judge, I know I'm then Worse than all fear can make me. You're indeed A mischief too long growing. Sirrah, Iew; Was this your Composition? 'Twas a work My Art brought forth; but never did my thought Touch at your Highness. Who made you to prepare it? The Prince Antipater. Villain, thouart damned for that discovery. No matter; I'll have royal company. And Sirrah, you had a finger in this work too. No truly My Lord, I durst not dip my finger in your dish, After great men is always good manners. Then you knew it was prepared for the King. Alas, I knew my Master had nothing too dear for his Grace, and my Lord Antipater I know gave a good price for it. Was this Poison then prepared for me? O Sir, by all likelihood; for ever your Physician is like your Hawk; the greater the fowl is that he kills, the greater is still both his reward and reputation. 'tis true, and you shall both find it: go, hang up that Peasant presently; and then cast him into Silo. Who me, hang up me? that cannot be good payment. Why fool? Because I shall never be able to acknowledge satisfaction. Away with him; and for that treacherous Iew, And you false-hearted Madam, both shall taste Of that you would have tendered; equally Divide that Bane into two cups of wine, And give it them to drink off; 'tis decreed, What was prepared for me, shall make you bleed. 'tis welcome Sir; a sudden death, I know Is terrible and fearful; but indeed, To those which do attend it, and do stand Constantly gazing on it; who do live, Where it scars none but Cowards; those can meet, And kiss it as a sweet Companion: 'tis unto those a Bugbear, who do think Never on Heaven, but for necessity. Your Tyranny hath taught me other rules; And this guest comes long looked for: here's a health To all that honour Virtue; let suffice, Death doth o'ertake; but it doth not surprise. Well Madam, I must pledge you; yet before, I'll do the King some service: I confess, I did compound the poison; 'twas prepared To kill your Majesty; the Plot was laid Both by Antipater and Salumith: They equally suborned me; each bestowed Reward upon me, and encouragement: 'twas they which made me to accuse the Queen, I must confess unjustly; they, long since, Have shared you and the Kingdom: that 'tis true, Be this last draught my witness; for no Slave Madly will carry falsehood to his Grave.
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)
O Madam, tis Too late now to excuse it; paine, O paine, Tirannous paine hath torne all from my Bosome: The Violl vvhich I gaue you, and the drops, Is that his Highnesse vrges. I do confesse them; Heere is the Violl and the drops: from this, What can your malice gather? That your intent Was, therewith to destroy me. O, you Gods! What's life, when This can take it? This, this drop; This little paltry nothing. Sir, tis false I neuer did intend your iniury. What not intend it? Blushlesse impudence! If you be made my Iudge, I know I'm then Worse then all feare can make me. Y'are indeed A mischiefe too long growing. Sirrah, Iew; Was this your Composition? 'Twas a worke My Art brought forth; but neuer did my thought Touch at your Highnes. Who made you to prepare it? The Prince Antipater. Villaine, th'art damn'd for that discouery. No matter; Ile haue royall company. And Sirrah, you had a finger in this worke too. No truly My Lord, I durst not dip my finger in your dish, After great men is alwayes good manners. Then you knew it was prepared for the King. Alas, I knew my Maister had nothing too deare for his Grace, and my Lord Antipater I know gaue a good price for it. Was this Poyson then prepar'd for me? O Sir, by all likelihood; for euer your Physitian is like your Hauke; the greater the Fowle is that he kils, the greater is still both his reward and reputation. Tis true, and you shall both finde it: goe, hang vp that Peasant presently; and then cast him into Silo. Who me, hang vp me? that cannot be good payment. Why foole? Because I shall neuer be able to acknowledge satisfaction. Away vvith him; and for that treacherous Iew, And you false-hearted Madam, both shall tast Of that you vvould haue tendred; equally Diuide that Bane into two cups of vvine, And giue it them to drinke off; tis decreed, What vvas prepar'd for me, shall make you bleed. Tis vvelcome Sir; a sodaine death, I know Is terrible and fearfull; but indeed, To those vvhich doe attend it, and doe stand Constantly gazing on it; who doe liue, Where it scarres none but Cowards; those can meet, And kisse it as a sweet Companion: Tis vnto those a Bugbeare, vvho do thinke Neuer on Heauen, but for necessity. Your Tyranny hath taught me other rules; And this guest comes long lookt for: heere's a health To all that honor Vertue; let suffice, Death doth oretake; but it doth not surprize. Well Madam, I must pledge you; yet before, Ile doe the King some seruice: I confesse, I did compound the poyson; 'twas prepar'd To kill your Maiesty; the Plot was laid Both by Antipater and Salumith: They equally subborn'd me; each bestow'd Reward vpon mee, and encouragement: T'was they which made me to accuse the Queene, I must confesse vniustly; they, long since, Haue shar'd you and the Kingdome: that tis true, Be this last draught my witnesse; for no Slaue Madly will carry falshood to his Graue.