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 · 474 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Speak, what is it? Men pity beasts of rapine, if o'ermatched, Though baited for their pleasure: but these monsters upon a man, that can make no resistance, Are senseless in their tyranny. Let it be granted, Marullo is a slave, he's still a man; A capital offender, yet in justice Not to be tortured, till the judge pronounce His punishment. Where is he? Dragged to prison With more than barbarous violence, spurned and spit on By the insulting officers, his hands Pinioned behind his back: loaden with fetters; Yet, with a Saintlike patience, he still offers His face to their rude buffets. O my grieved soul! By whose command? It seems, my Lord your brothers; For he's a looker on: and it takes from Honoured Leosthenes to suffer it, For his respect to you, whose name in vain The grieved wretch loudly calls on. By Diana, 'Tis base in both, and to their teeth I'll tell 'em That I am wronged in't. What will you do? In person Visit, and comfort him. That will bring fuel To the jealous fires, which burn too hot already In Lord Leosthenes. Let them consume him; I am Mistress of myself. Where cruelty reigns, There dwells nor love, nor honour. So, it works. Though hitherto I have run a desperate course To serve my brother's purposes, now 'tis fit, I study mine own ends. They come. Assist me In these my undertakings, love's great Patron, As my intents are honest. 'Tis my fault. Distrust from others springs, Timagoras, From diffidence in ourselves. But I will strive, With the assurance of my worth, and merits, To kill this monster, jealousy. 'Tis a guest In wisdom never to be entertained On trivial probabilities; but when He does appear in pregnant proofs, not fashioned By idle doubts and fears, to be received, They make their own horns, that are too secure, As well as such as give them growth, and being From mere imagination. Though I prize Cleora's honour equal with mine own; And know what large additions of power This match brings to our family; I prefer Our friendship, and your peace of mind so far Above my own respects, or hers, that if She hold not her true value in the test, 'Tis far from my ambition for her cure, That you should wound yourself. This argues for me. Why she should be so passionate for a Bondman, Falls not in compass of my understanding, But for some nearer interest; or he raise This mutiny, if he loved her (as you say, She does confess, he did) but to enjoy By fair or foul play, what he ventured for, To me's a Riddle. Pray you, no more; already I have answered that objection in my strong Assurance of her virtue. 'Tis unfit then, That I should press it further.
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)
Speake, what is it? Men pitty beasts of rapine, if o're-match'd, Though bayted for their pleasure: but these monsters vpon a man, that can make no resistance, Are sensllesse in their tyranny. Let it be granted, Marullo is a slaue, hee's still a man; A capitall offender, yet in iustice Not to be tortur'd, till the Iudge pronounce His punishment. Where is he? Drag'd to prison With more then barbarous violence, spurn'd and spit on By the insulting officers, his hands Pynion'd behinde his backe: loaden with fetters; Yet, with a Saint-like patience, he still offers His face to their rude buffets. O my grieu'd soule! By whose command? It seemes, my Lord your brothers; For hee's a looker on: and it takes from Honour'd Leosthenes to suffer it, For his respect to you, whose name in vaine The grieu'd wretch loudly calls on. By Diana, 'Tis base in both, and to their teeth I'll tell 'em That I am wrong'd in't. What will you doe? In person Visit, and comfort him. That will bring fewell To the iealous fires, which burne too hot already In Lord Leosthenes. Let them consume him; I am Mistrisse of my selfe. Where crueltie raignes, There dwels nor loue, nor honour. So, it workes. Though hetherto I haue ranne a desperate course To serue my brothers purposes, now 'tis fit, I study mine owne ends. They come. Assist me In these my vndertakings, loues great Patron, As my intents are honest. 'Tis my fault. Distrust from others springs, Timagoras, From diffidence in our selues. But I will striue, With the assurance of my worth, and merits, To kill this monster, iealousie. 'Tis a ghest In wisdome neuer to be entertain'd On triuiall probabilities; but when Hee does appeare in pregnant proofes, not fashion'd By idle doubts and feares, to be receiu'd, They make their owne hornes, that are too secure, As well as such as giue them grouth, and being From meere imagination. Though I prize Cleora's honour equall with mine owne; And know what large additions of power This match brings to our family; I preferre Our friendship, and your peace of minde so farre Aboue my owne respects, or hers, that if Shee hold not her true value in the test, 'Tis farre from my ambition for her cure, That you should wound your selfe. This argues for me. Why she should be so passionate for a Bond-man, Falls not in compasse of my vnderstanding, But for some neerer interest; or hee raise This mutiny, if he lou'd her (as you say, Shee does confesse, he did) but to enioy By faire or foule play, what he venter'd for, To mee's a Riddle. 'Pray you, no more; already I haue answer'd that obiection in my strong Assurance of her vertue. 'Tis vnfit then, That I should presse it further.