Webster, John · published 1623 · first performed or written 1614 [1612-1614; revised 1617-23(?)] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Like death that we have. Now the Echo hath caught you: It groaned (methought) and gave A very deadly Accent? Deadly Accent. I told you 'twas a pretty one: You may make it A Huntsman, or a falconer, a Musician, Or a Thing of Sorrow. A Thing of Sorrow. I sure: that suits it best. That suits it best. 'Tis very like my wife's voice. ay, wives-voice. Come: let's us walk farther from't: I Would not have you go toth' Cardinals tonight: Do not. Do not. Wisdom doth not more moderate, wasting Sorrow Then time: take time for't: be mindful of thy safety. Be mindful of thy safety. Necessity compels me: Make scrutiny throughout the passes Of your own life; you'll find it impossible To fly your fate. O fly your fate. Hark: the dead stones seem to have pity on you And give you good counsel. Echo, I will not talk with thee; For thou art a dead Thing. Thou art a dead Thing. My Duchess is asleep now, And her litle-Ones, I hope sweetly: oh Heaven Shall I never see her more? Never see her more: I marked not one repetition of the Echo But that: and on the sudden, a clear light Presented me a face folded in sorrow. Your fancy; merely. Come: I'll be out of this Ague; For to live thus, is not indeed to live: It is a mockery, and abase of life, I will not henceforth save myself by halves, Lose all, or nothing. Your own virtue save you: I'll fetch your eldest son; and second you: It may be that the sight of his own blood Spread in so sweet a figure, may beget The more compassion. however, fare you well: Though in our miseries, Fortune have a part, Yet, in our noble sufferings, she hath none, Contempt of pain, that we may call our own. You shall not watch tonight by the sick Prince, His Grace is very well recovered. Good my Lord suffer us. Oh, by no means: The noise, and change of object in his eye, Doth more distract him: I pray, all to bed, And though you hear him in his violent fit, Do not rise, I entreat you. So sir, we shall not, Nay, I must have you promise Upon your honours, for I was enjoined to't By himself; and he seemed to urge it sensibly. Let out honours bind this trifle. Nor any of your followers. Neither. It may be to make trial of your promise When he's asleep, myself will rise, and feign Some of his mad tricks, and cry out for help, And feign myself in danger. If your throat were cutting, I'd not come at you, now I have protested against it. Why, I thank you. 'Twas a foul storm tonight. The Lord Ferdinand's chamber, shook like an Osier. 'Twas nothing but pure kindness in the Devil, To rock his own child.
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)
Like death that we haue. Now the Eccho hath caught you: It groan'd (me thought) and gaue A very deadly Accent? Deadly Accent. I told you 'twas a pretty one: You may make it A Huntes-man, or a Faulconer, a Musitian, Or a Thing of Sorrow. A Thing of Sorrow. I sur that suites it best. That suites it best. 'Tis very like my wiues voyce. I, wifes-voyce. Come: let's vs walke farther from't: I Would not haue you go toth' Cardinalls to night: Doe not. Doe not. Wisdome doth not more moderate, wasting Sorrow Then time: take time for't: be mindfull of thy safety. Be mindfull of thy safety. Necessitie compells me: Make scruteny throughout the passes Of your owne life; you'll find it impossible To flye your fate. O flye your fate. Harke: the dead stones seeme to haue pitty on you And giue you good counsell. Eccho, I will not talke with thee; For thou art a dead Thing. Thou art a dead Thing. My Dutchesse is asleepe now, And her litle-Ones, I hope sweetly: oh Heauen Shall I neuer see her more? Neuer see her more: I mark'd not one repetition of the Eccho But that: and on the sudden, a cleare light Presented me a face folded in sorrow. Your fancy; meerely. Come: I'll be out of this Ague; For to liue thus, is not indeed to liue: It is a mockery, and aase of life, I will not henceforth saue my selfe by halues, Loose all, or nothing. Your owne vertue saue you: I'll fetch your eldest sonne; and second you: It may be that the sight of his owne blood Spred in so sweet a figure, may beget The more compassion. How euer, fare you well: Though in our miseries, Fortune haue a part, Yet, in our noble suffrings, she hath none, Contempt of paine, that we may call our owne. You shall not watch to night by the sicke Prince, His Grace is very well recouer'd. Good my Lord suffer vs. Oh, by no meanes: The noyce, and change of obiect in his eye, Doth more distract him: I pray, all to bed, And though you heare him in his violent fit▪ Do not rise, I intreate you. So sir, we shall not, Nay, I must haue you promise Vpon your honors, for I was enioyn'd to't By himselfe; and he seem'd to vrge it sencibly. Let out honors bind this trifle. Nor any of your followers. Neither. It may be to make triall of your promise When he's a sleepe, my selfe will rise, and faigne Some of his mad trickes, and crie out for helpe, And faigne my selfe in danger. If your throate were cutting, I'll'd not come at you, now I haue protested against it. Why, I thanke you. 'Twas a forle storme to night. The Lord Ferdinand's chamber, shooke like an Ozier. 'Twas nothing but pure kindnesse in the Diuell, To ocke his owne child.