The Devil's Law Case (When Women Go to Law the Devil Is Full of Business) · chunk 14 of 45
Webster, John · published 1623 · first performed or written 1619 [1617-1621] (Annals) tragicomedy · Queen Anne's Men unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Bethink yourself, How fair the object is that we contend for. Oh, I cannot forget it. You are hurt. Did you come hither only to tell me so, Or to do it? I mean well, but 'twill not thrive. Your cause, your cause sir: Will you yet be a man of Conscience, and make Restitution for your rage upon your deathbed? Never, till the grave gather one of us. That was fair, and home I think. You prate as if you were in a Fence-school. Spare your youth, have compassion on yourself. When I am all in pieces, I am now unfit For any lady's bed; take the rest with you. I am lost in too much daring: yield your sword. To the pangs of death I shall, but not to thee. You are now at my repairing, or confusion: Beg your life. Oh most foolishly demanded, To bid me beg that which thou canst not give. See both of them are lost; we come too late. Take up the body, and convey it To Saint Sebastian's Monastery. I will not part with his sword, I have won't. You shall not: Take him up gently: so, and bow his body, For fear of bleeding inward. Well, these are perfect lovers. Why, I pray? It has been ever my opinion, That there are none love perfectly indeed, But those that hang or drown themselves for love: Now these have chose a death next to Beheading, They have cut one another's throats, Brave valiant Lads. Come, you do ill, to set the name of valour Upon a violent and mad despair. Hence may all learn, that count such actions well, The roots of fury shoot themselves to hell. Your losses I confess, are infinite, Yet sir, you must have patience. Sir, my losses I know, but you I do not. 'tis most true, I am but a stranger to you, but am Wished by some of your best friends, to visit you, And out of my experience in the world, To instruct you patience. Of what profession are you? Sir, I am a Lawyer. Of all men living, You Lawyers I account the only men To confirm patience in us, your delays Would make three parts of this little Christian world Run out of their wits else. Now I remember, you read Lectures to Iulio, Are you such a Leech for patience? Yes sir, I have had some crosses. You are married then I am certain. That I am sir. And have you studied patience? You shall find I have. Did you ever see your wife make you Cuckold? Make me Cuckold? I ask it seriously, and you have not seen that, Your patience has not ta'en the right degree Of wearing Scarlet; I should rather take you For a Bachelor in the Art, then for a Doctor. You are merry. (angry. No sir, with leave of your patience, I am horrible
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Bethinke your selfe, How faire the obiect is that we contend for. Oh, I cannot forget it. You are hurt. Did you come hither only to tell me so, Or to doe it? I meane well, but 'twill not thriue. Your cause, your cause sir: Will you yet be a man of Conscience, and make Restitution for your rage vpon your death-bed? Neuer, till the graue gather one of vs. That was faire, and home I thinke. You prate as if you were in a Fence-schoole. Spare your youth, haue compassion on your selfe. When I am all in pieces, I am now vnsit For any Ladies bed; take the rest with you. I am lost in too much daring: yeeld your sword. To the pangs of death I shall, but not to thee. You are now at my repayring, or confusion: Begge your life. Oh most foolishly demaunded, To bid me beg that which thou canst not giue. See both of them are lost; we come too late. Take vp the body, and conuey it To Saint Sebastians Monastery. I will not part with his sword, I haue won't. You shall not: Take him vp gently: so, and bow his body, For feare of bleeding inward. Well, these are perfect louers. Why, I pray? It has been euer my opinion, That there are none loue perfectly indeed, But those that hang or drowne themselues for loue: Now these haue chose a death next to Beheading, They haue cut one anothers throats, Braue valiant Lads. Come, you doe ill, to set the name of valour Vpon a violent and mad despaire. Hence may all learne, that count such actions well, The roots of fury shoot themselues to hell. Your losses I confesse, are infinite, Yet sir, you must haue patience. Sir, my losses I know, but you I doe not. Tis most true, I am but a stranger to you, but am Wisht by some of your best friends, to visit you, And out of my experience in the world, To instruct you patience. Of what profession are you? Sir, I am a Lawyer. Of all men liuing, You Lawyers I account the onely men To confirme patience in vs, your delayes Would make three parts of this little Christian world Run out of their wits else. Now I remember, you read Lectures to Iulio, Are you such a Leech for patience? Yes sir, I haue had some crosses. You are married then I am certaine. That I am sir. And haue you studied patience? You shall find I haue. Did you euer see your wife make you Cuckold? Make me Cuckold? I aske it seriously, and you haue not seene that, Your patience has not tane the right degree Of wearing Scarlet; I should rather take you For a Batchelor in the Art, then for a Doctor. You are merry. (angry. No sir, with leaue of your patience, I am horrible