Shakespeare, William / Middleton, Thomas · published 1623 · first performed or written 1604 (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T40 Sin, guilt and violent loss within famil · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
It is your husband mocked you with a husband, Consenting to the safeguard of your honour, I thought your marriage fit: else Imputation, For that he knew you, might reproach your life, And choke your good to come: For his Possessions, Although by confutation they are ours; We do en-state, and widow you with all, To buy you a better husband. Oh my dear Lord, I crave no other, nor no better man. Never crave him, we are definitive. Gentle my Liege. You do but lose your labour. Away with him to death: Now Sir, to you. Oh my good Lord, sweet Isabella, take my part, Lend me your knees, and all my life to come, I'll lend you all my life to do you service. Against all sense you do importune her, Should she kneel down, in mercy of this fact, Her Brother's ghost, his paved bed would break, And take her hence in horror. Isabella: Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me, Hold up your hands, say nothing: I'll speak all. They say best men are moulded out of faults, And for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad: So may my husband. Oh Isabel: will you not lend a knee? He dies for Claudio's death. Most bounteous Sir. Look if it please you, on this man condemned, As if my Brother lived: I partly think, A due sincerity governed his deeds, Till he did look on me: Since it is so, Let him not die: my Brother had but justice, In that he did the thing for which he died. For Angelo, his Act did not o'ertake his bad intent, And must be buried but as an intent That perished by the way: thoughts are no subjects Intents, but merely thoughts. Merely my Lord. Your suite's unprofitable: stand up I say: I have bethought me of another fault. Provost, how came it Claudio was beheaded At an unusual hour? It was commanded so. Had you a special warrant for the deed? No my good Lord: it was by private message. For which I do discharge you of your office, Give up your keys. Pardon me, noble Lord, I thought it was a fault, but knew it not, Yet did repent me after more advice, For testimony whereof, one in the prison That should by private order else have died, I have reserved alive. What's he? His name is Barnardine. I would thou hadst done so by Claudio: Go fetch him hither, let me look upon him. I am sorry, one so learned, and so wise As you, Lord Angelo, have still appeared, Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood And lack of tempered judgement afterward. I am sorry, that such sorrow I procure, And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart, That I crave death more willingly than mercy, 'Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it.
seed 43: T37 · seed 44: T36 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
It is your husband mock't you with a husband, Conſenting to the ſafe-guard of your honor, I thought your marriage fit: elſe Imputation, For that he knew you▪ might reproach your life, And choake your good to come: For his Poſſeſſions, Although by confutation they are ours; We doe en-ſtate, and widow you with all, To buy you a better husband. Oh my deere Lord, I craue no other, nor no better man. Neuer craue him, we are definitiue. Gentle my Liege. You doe but looſe your labour. Away with him to death: Now Sir, to you. Oh my good Lord, ſweet Iſabell, take my part, Lend me your knees, and all my life to come, I'll lend you all my life to doe you ſeruice. Againſt all ſence you doe importune her, Should ſhe kneele downe, in mercie of this fact, Her Brothers ghoſt, his paued bed would breake, And take her hence in horror. Iſabell: Sweet Iſabel, doe yet but kneele by me, Hold vp your hands, ſay nothing: I'll ſpeake all. They ſay beſt men are moulded out of faults, And for the moſt, become much more the better For being a little bad: So may my husband. Oh Iſabel: will you not lend a knee? He dies for Claudio's death. Moſt bounteous Sir. Looke if it pleaſe you, on this man condemn'd, As if my Brother liu'd: I partly thinke, A due ſinceritie gouerned his deedes, Till he did looke on me: Since it is ſo, Let him not die: my Brother had but Iuſtice, In that he did the thing for which he dide. For Angelo, his Act did not ore-take his bad intent, And muſt be buried but as an intent That periſh'd by the way: thoughts are no ſubiects Intents, but meerely thoughts. Meerely my Lord. Your ſuite's vnprofitable: ſtand vp I ſay: I haue bethought me of another fault. Prouoſt, how came it Claudio was beheaded At an vnuſuall howre? It was commanded ſo. Had you a ſpeciall warrant for the deed? No my good Lord: it was by priuate meſſage. For which I doe diſcharge you of your office, Giue vp your keyes. Pardon me, noble Lord, I thought it was a fault, but knew it not, Yet did repent me after more aduice, For teſtimony whereof, one in the priſon That ſhould by priuate order elſe haue dide, I haue reſeru'd aliue. What's he? His name is Barnardine. I would thou hadſt done ſo by Claudio: Goe fetch him hither, let me looke vpon him. I am ſorry, one ſo learned, and ſo wiſe As you, Lord Angelo, haue ſtil appear'd, Should ſlip ſo groſſelie, both in the heat of bloud And lacke of temper'd iudgement afterward. I am ſorrie, that ſuch ſorrow I procure, And ſo deepe ſticks it in my penitent heart, That I craue death more willingly then mercy, 'Tis my deſeruing, and I doe entreat it.