Massinger, Philip · published 1624 · first performed or written 1623 [licensed for stage, Dec 3] (Annals) tragicomedy · Lady Elizabeth's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 472 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
But that I scorn, To rust my good Sword in thy slavish blood, Thou now wert dead. he's more a slave, than Fortune, Or Misery can make me, that insults Upon unweaponed Innocence. Prate, you dog? Curs snap at lions in the toil, whose looks Frighted them being free. As a wild beast, Drive him before you. O Divine Cleora! Dar'st thou presume to name her? Yes, and love her: And may say, have deserved her. Stop his mouth: Load him with Irons too. I am deadly sick, To look on him. If he get loose, I know it, I caper, like an Ape, again: I feel The whip already. This goes to my Lady. Come, cheer you, Sir, we'll urge his punishment To the full satisfaction of your anger. He is not worth my thoughts; No corner left In all the spacious rooms of my vexed heart, But is filled with Cleora: And the Rape She has done upon her honour, with my wrong, The heavy burden of my sorrow's song. Thou art thine own disposer. Were his honours And glories centupled, (as I must confess, Leosthenes is most worthy) yet I will not, however I may counsel, force affection. It needs not, Sir, I prize him to his worth, Nay, love him truly, yet would not live slaved To his jealous humours. Since by the hopes of heaven, As I am free from violence, in a thought I am not guilty. 'Tis believed Cleora, And much the rather, (our great gods be praised for't) In that I find beyond my hopes, no sign Of riot in my house, but all things ordered, As if I had been present. May that move you To pity poor Marullo. 'Tis my purpose To do him all the good I can, Cleora; But his offence being against the State, Must have a public trial. In the mean time Be careful of yourself, and stand engaged No farther to Leosthenes, than you may Come off with honour: For, being once his wife, You are no more your own, nor mine, but must Resolve to serve, and suffer his commands, And not dispute'em; ere it be to late, Consider it duly. I must to the Senate. I am much distracted; in Leosthenes I can find nothing justly to accuse, But his excess of love, which I have studied To cure with more than common means, yet still It grows upon him. And if I may call My sufferings merit, I stand bound to think on Marullo's dangers; though I save his life, His love is unrewarded: I confess, Both have deserved me, yet of force must be Unjust to one; such is my destiny. How now? whence flow these tears? I have met, Madam, An object of such cruelty, as would force A Savage to compassion.
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)
But that I scorne, To rust my good Sword in thy slauish blood, Thou now wert dead. Hee's more a slaue, then Fortune, Or Miserie can make me, that insults Vpon vnweapon'd Innocence. Prate, you dogge? Curres snap at Lyons in the toyle, whose lookes Frighted them being free. As a wilde beast, Driue him before you. O Diuine Cleora! Dar'st thou presume to name her? Yes, and loue her: And may say, haue deseru'd her. Stoppe his mouth: Load him with Irons too. I am deadly sicke, To looke on him. If he get loose, I know it, I caper, like an Ape, againe: I feele The whip already. This goes to my Lady. Come, cheere you, Sir, wee'll vrge his punishment To the full satisfaction of your anger. Hee is not worth my thoughts; No corner left In all the spatious roomes of my vex'd heart, But is fill'd with Cleora: And the Rape Shee has done vpon her honour, with my wrong, The heauy burthen of my sorrowes song. Thou art thine owne disposer. Were his honours And glories centupled, (as I must confesse, Leosthenes is most worthy) yet I will not, How euer I may counsaile, force affection. It needs not, Sir, I prize him to his worth, Nay, loue him truly, yet would not liue slau'd To his iealous humours. Since by the hopes of heauen, As I am free from violence, in a thought I am not guilty. 'Tis beleeu'd Cleora, And much the rather, (our great gods be prais'd for't) In that I finde beyond my hopes, no signe Of ryot in my house, but all things order'd, As if I had beene present. May that moue you To pitty poore Marullo. 'Tis my purpose To doe him all the good I can, Cleora; But his offence being against the State, Must haue a publique triall. In the meane time Be carefull of your selfe, and stand ingag'd No farther to Leosthenes, then you may Come off with honour: For, being once his wife, You are no more your owne, nor mine, but must Resolue to serue, and suffer his commands, And not dispute'em; e're it be to late, Consider it duly. I must to the Senate. I am much distracted; in Leosthenes I can finde nothing iustly to accuse, But his excesse of loue, which I haue studied To cure with more then common meanes, yet still It growes vpon him. And if I may call My suffrings merit, I stand bound to thinke on Marullos dangers; though I saue his life, His loue is vnrewarded: I confesse, Both haue deseru'd me, yet of force must be Vniust to one; such is my destiny. How now? whence flowe these teares? I haue met, Madam, An obiect of such crueltie, as would force A Sauage to compassion.