Webster, John · published 1623 · first performed or written 1614 [1612-1614; revised 1617-23(?)] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
No, judgement shall Draw it from you: It is an equal fault, To tell one's secrets, unto all, or none. The first argues folly. But the last tyranny. Very well, why imagine I have committed Some secret deed, which I desire the world May never hear of? Therefore may not I know it? You have concealed for me, as great a sin As adultery: Sir, never was occasion For perfect trial of my constancy Till now: Sir, I beseech you. You'll repent it. Never. It hurries thee to ruin: I'll not tell thee, Be well advised, and think what danger 'tis To receive a PRINCE's secrets: they that do, Had need have their breasts hooped with adamant To contain them: I pray thee yet be satisfied, Examine thine own frailty, 'tis more easy To tie knots, then unloose them: 'tis a secret That (like a lingering poison) may chance lie Spread in thy veins, and kill thee seven year hence. Now you dally with me. No more, thou shalt know it. By my appointment, the great Duchess of Malfi, And two of her young children, four nights since Were strangled. Oh heaven! (sir) what have you done? How now? how settles this? think you your Bosom will be a grave, dark and obscure enough For such a secret? You have undone yourself (sir.) Why? It lies not in me to conceal it. No? come, I will swear you to't upon this book. Most religiously. Kiss it. Now you shall never utter it, thy curiosity Hath undone thee: thou'rt poisoned with that book, Because I knew thou couldst not keep my council, I have bound the to't by death. For pity's sake, hold. Ha, Bosola? I forgive you, This equal piece of justice you have done: For I betrayed your council to that fellow, He over heard it; that was the cause I said It lay not in me, to conceal it. Oh foolish woman, Couldst not thou have poisoned him? 'Tis weakness, Too much to think what should have been done, I go, I know not whether. Wherefore com'st thou hither? That I might find a great man, (like yourself,) Not out of his wits (as the Lord Ferdinand) To remember my service. I'll have thee hewed in pieces. Make not yourself such a promise of that life Which is not yours, to dispose of. Who placed thee here. Her lust, as she intended. Very well, now you know me for your fellow murderer. And wherefore should you lay fair marble colours, Upon your rotten purposes to me? Unless you imitate some that do plot great Treasons, And when they have done, go hide themselves i'th' graves, Of those were Actors in't? No more, There is a fortune attends thee. Shall I go sue to fortune any longer? 'Tis the fool's Pilgrimage. I have honours in store for thee. There are a many ways that conduct to seeming Honour, and some of them very dirty ones.
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)
No, iudgement shall Draw it from you: It is an equall fault, To tell ones secrets, vnto all, or none. The first argues folly. But the last tyranny. Very wel, why imagine I haue committed Some secret deed, which I desire the world May neuer heare of? Therefore may not I know it? You haue conceal'd for me, as great a sinne As adultery: Sir, neuer was occasion For perfect triall of my constancy Till now: Sir, I beseech you. You'll repent it. Neuer. It hurries thee to ruine: I'll not tell thee, Be well aduis'd, and thinke what danger 'tis To receiue a Princes secrets: they that do, Had neede haue their breasts hoop'd with adamant To containe them: I pray thee yet be satisfi'd, Examine thine owne frailety, 'tis more easie To tie knots, then vnloose them: 'tis a secret That (like a lingring poyson) may chance lie Spread in thy vaines, and kill thee seauen yeare hence▪ Now you dally with me. No more, thou shalt know it. By my appointment, the great Duchesse of Malfy, And two of her young children, foure nights since Were strangled. Oh heauen! (sir) what haue you done? How now? how setles this? thinke you your Bosome will be a graue, darke and obscure enough For such a secret? You haue vndone your selfe (sir.) VVhy? It lies not in me to conceale it. No? come, I will sweare you to't vpon this booke▪ Most religiously. Kisse it. Now you shall neuer vtter it, thy curiosity Hath vndone thee: thou'rt poyson'd with that booke, Because I knew thou couldst not keepe my councell, I haue bound the to't by death. For pitty sake, hold. Ha, Bosola? I forgiue you, This equall peece of Iustice you haue done: For I betraid your councell to that fellow, He ouer heard it; that was the cause I said It lay not in me, to conceale it. Oh foolish woman, Couldst not thou haue poyson'd him? 'Tis weakenesse, Too much to thinke what should haue bin done, I go, I know not whether. Wherefore com'st thou hither? That I might finde a great man, (like your selfe,) Not out of his wits (as the Lord Ferdinand) To remember my seruice. I'll haue thee hew'd in peeces. Make not your selfe such a promise of that life Which is not yours, to dispose of. Who plac'd thee here. Her lust, as she intended. Very well, now you know me for your fellow murderer▪ And wherefore should you lay faire marble colours, Vpon your rotten purposes to me? Vnlesse you imitate some that do plot great Treasons, And when they haue done, go hide themselues i'th' graues, Of those were Actors in't? No more, There is a fortune attends thee. Shall I go sue to fortune any longer? 'Tis the fooles Pilgrimage. I haue honors in store for thee. There are a many wayes that conduct to seeming Honor, and some of them very durty ones.