Massinger, Philip · published 1623 · first performed or written 1621 [1621-1623] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.86 · 473 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
there's no disputing. But 'tis a tempest on the sudden raised, Who durst have dreamt of? Nay, since she dares damnation, I'll be a fury to her. Yet great Sir, Exceed not in your fury, she's yet guilty Only in her intent. Intent Francisco? It does include all fact, and I might sooner Be won to pardon treason to my Crown, Or one that killed my Father. You are wise, And know what's best to do, yet if you please To prove her temper to the height, say only That I am dead, and then observe how far She'll be transported. I'll remove a little, But be within your call: now to the upshot, howe'er I'll shift for one. Where is this Monster? This walking tree of jealousy, this dreamer, This horned beast that would be? O are you here Sir? Is it by your commandment or allowance, I am thus basely used? Which of my virtues, My labours, services, and cares to please you (For to a man suspicious and unthankful, Without a blush I may be mine own trumpet) Invites this barbarous course? Dare you look on me Without a seal of shame? Impudence, How ugly thou appear'st now? Thy intent To be a whore, leaves thee not blood enough To make an honest blush, what had the act done? Returned thee the dishonour thou deservest Though willingly I had given up myself To every common lecher. Your chief minion, Your chosen favourite, your wooed Francisco, Has dearly paid for't, for wretch, know he's dead, And by my hand. The bloodier villain thou, But 'tis not to be wondered at, thy love does know no other object, thou hast killed then A man I do profess I loved, a man For whom a thousand Queens might well be rivals, But be (I speak it to thy teeth) that dares be A jealous fool, dares be a murderer, And knows no end in mischief. I begin now stabs her. In this my justice. Oh, I have fooled myself Into my grave, and only grieve for that Which when you know, you have slain an Innocent You needs must suffer. An Innocent? Let onc Call in Francisco for he lives (vile creature) To justify thy falsehood, and how often With whorish flatteries thou hast tempted him, I being only fit to live a stale, A bawd and property to your wantonness. Signior Francisco Sir, but even now Took horse without the Ports. We are both abused, And both by him undone, stay death a little Till I have cleared me to my Lord, and then I willingly obey thee. O my Sforza, Francisco was not tempted, but the Tempter, And as he thought to win me showed the warrant That you signed for my death. Then I believe thee, Believe thee innocent too.
nodes 2352–2423 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 34 of 42 in this edition
Length
473 words · 621 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.856 (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)
Ther's no disputing. But 'tis a tempest on the suddaine rays'd, Who durst haue dreamt of? Nay, since she dares damnation, I'le be a furie to her. Yet great Sir, Exceed not in your furie, she's yet guiltie Only in her intent. Intent Francisco? It does include all sact, and I might sooner Be won to pardon treason to my Crowne, Or one that kil'd my Father. You are wise, And know what's best to doe, yet if you please To proue her temper to the height, say only That I am dead, and then obserue how farre She'le be transported. I'le remoue a little, But be within your call: now to the vpshot, How e're I'le shift for one. Where is this Monster? This walking tree of Iealousie, this dreamer, This horned beast that would be? O are you here Sir? Is it by your commandement or allowance, I am thus basely vs'd? Which of my vertues, My labours, setuices, and cares to please you (For to a man suspitious and vnthankefull, Without a blush I may be mine owne trumpet) Inuites this barbarous course? Dare you looke on me Without a seale of shame? Impudence, How vgly thou appear'st now? Thy intent To be a whore, leaues thee not blood enough To make an honest blush, what had the act done? Return'd thee the dishonor thou deseruest Though willingly I had giuen vp my selfe To euerie common letcher. Your chiefe minion, Your chosen fauourite, your woo'd Francisco, Has deerely pay'd for't, for wretch, know he's dead, And by my hand. The bloodyer villaine thou, But'tis not to be wonder'd at, thy loue Do's know no other obiect, thou hast kil'd then A man I doe professe I lou'd, a man For whom a thousand Queenes might well be riuals, But be (I speake it to thy teeth) that dares be A Iealous foole, dares be a murtherer, And knowes no end in mischiefe. I begin now stabs her. In this my Iustice. Oh, I haue fool'd my selfe Into my graue, and only grieue for that Which when you know, you haue slaine an Innocent You needs ds mast suffer. An Innocent? Let onc Call in Francisco for he liues (vile creature) To iustifie thy falshood, and how often With whorish flatteries thou hast tempted him, I being only sit to liue a stale, A bawd and propertie to your wantonnesse. Signior Francisco Sir, but euen now Tooke horse without the Ports. We are both abus'd, And both by him vndone, stay death a little Till I haue cleer'd me to my Lord, and then I willingly obey thee. O my Sforza, Francisco was not tempted, but the Tempter, And as he thought to win me shew'd the warrant That you sign'd for my death. Then I beleeue thee, Beleeue thee innocent too.