Massinger, Philip · published 1623 · first performed or written 1621 [1621-1623] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.78 · 508 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
O Innocence, abused! Simplicity cozened! It were a sin, for which we have no name, To keep you longer in this wilful error. read his affection here; And then observe How dear he holds you; 'Tis his Character, Which cunning yet, could never counterfeit. 'Tis his hand, I am resolved of't. I'll try what the Inscription is. Pray you do so. You know my pleasure, & the hour of Marcelia's death, which fail not to execute, as you will answer the contrary, not with your Head alone, but with the ruin of your whole Family. And this written with mine own Hand, and Signed with my privy Signet, shall be your sufficient Warrant. Ludovico Sforza. I do obey it, every word's a poniard, And reaches to my Heart. She swoons. What have I done? Madam, for heaven's sake, Madam. O my Fate! I'll bend her body: This is yet some pleasure, I'll kiss her into a new life. Dear Lady: She stirs: For the Duke's sake for Sforza's sake. Sforza's? Stand off: Though dead, I will be his, And even my Ashes shall abhor the touch Of any other. O unkind, and cruel. Learn Women, learn to trust in one another; There is no faith in Man: Sforza is false, False to Marcelia. But I am true, And live to make you happy. All the Pomp, State, and observance you had being his, Compared to what you shall enjoy when mine, Shall be no more remembered. Loose his memory, And look with cheerful beams on your new Creature And know what he hath plotted for you good, Fate cannot alter. If the Emperor, Take not his life, at his return he dies, And by my Hand: My Wife, that is his Heir, Shall quickly follow; Then we Reign alone, For with this Arm I'll swim through Seas of blood, Or make a Bridge, arched with the bones of Men, But I will grasp my aims in you my dearest, Dearest, and best of Women. Thou art a Villain? All attributes of arch-villains made into one, Cannot express thee. I prefer the hate Of Sforza, though it mark me for the Grave, Before thy base affection. I am yet Pure, and unspotted, in my true love to him; Nor shall it be corrupted, though he's tainted; Nor will I part with Innocence, because He is found guilty. For thyself, thou art A thing, that equal with the Devil himself, I do detest, and scorn. Thou then art nothing: Thy life is in my power, disdainful Woman: Think on't, and tremble. No, though thou wert now To play thy hangman's part. Thou well may'st be My Executioner, and art only fit For such employment; But ne'er hope to have, The least grace from me. I will never see thee, But as the shame of Men: So, with my curses Of horror to thy Conscience in this life; And pains in Hell hereafter: I spit at thee, And making haste to make my peace with heaven, Expect thee as my Hangman.
nodes 1094–1156 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 16 of 42 in this edition
Length
508 words · 700 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.778 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
O Innocence, abus'd! Simplicitie cousen'd! It were a sinne, for which we haue no name, To keepe you longer in this wilfull errour. Reade his affection here; And then obserue How deere he holds you; 'Tis his Character, Which cunning yet, could neuer counterfeit. 'Tis his hand, I am resolu'd of't. I'le try what the Inscription is. Pray you doe so. You know my pleasure, & the houre of Marcelias death, which faile not to execute, as you will answere the contrarie, not with your Head alone, but with the ruine of your whole Famely. And this written with mine owne Hand, and Signed with my priuie Signet, shall be your sufficient Warrant. Ludouico Sforza. I doe obey it, euerie word's a Poynard, And reaches to my Heart. She swones. What haue I done? Madam, for Heauens sake, Madam. O my Fate! I'le bend her body: This is yet some pleasure, I'le kisse her into a new life. Deare Lady: She stirs: For the Dukes sake for Sforza's sake. Sforzas? Stand off: Though dead, I will be his, And euen my Ashes shall abhorre the touch Of any other. O vnkind, and cruell. Learne Women, learne to trust in one another; There is no faith in Man: Sforza is false, False to Marcelia. But I am true, And liue to make you happie. All the Pompe, State, and obseruance you had being his, Compar'd to what you shall enioy when mine, Shall be no more remembred. Loose his memory, And looke with chearefull beames on your new Creature And know what he hath plotted for you good, Fate cannot alter. If the Emperour, Take not his life, at his returne he dyes, And by my Hand: My Wife, that is his Heire, Shall quickly follow; Then we Raigne alone, For with this Arme I'le swim through Seas of blood, Or make a Bridge, arch'd with the bones of Men, But I will graspe my aymes in you my deerest, Deerest, and best of Women. Thou art a Villaine? All attributes of Arch-Villaines made into one, Cannot expresse thee. I preferre the hate Of Sforza, though it marke me for the Graue, Before thy base affection. I am yet Pure, and vnspotted, in my true loue to him; Nor shall it be corrupted, though he's tainted; Nor will I part with Innocence, because He is found guiltie. For thy selfe, thou art A thing, that equall with the Diuell himselfe, I doe detest, and scorne. Thou then art nothing: Thy life is in my power, disdainefull Woman: Thinke on't, and tremble. No, though thou wert now To play thy hangmans part. Thou well may'st be My Executioner, and art only fit For such employment; But ne're hope to haue, The least grace from me. I will neuer see thee, But as the shame of Men: So, with my curses Of horror to thy Conscience in this life; And paines in Hell hereafter: I spit at thee, And making hast to make my peace with heauen, Expect thee as my Hangman.