Gomersall, Robert · published 1633 · first performed or written 1628 [1622-1628] (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 498 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Are those the Instruments? well my black friends, I eased you of a labour: all succeeds According to the flattery of my wish, And my suspicion turns to prophecy. But my so bloody, and so wary Sforza, Your Agent's dead, but not your crime: 'twill out, And by this carcase: I will fly to France, Divulge loud papers,— they are writ already,— And here they are, these I will swear were found In the dead poisoner's pockets: by this means Sforza's proclaimed a murderer, I'm freed, And make it be his guilt, which was my deed. Madam I have some news of that import, That (if you please to command privacy) Will both desire, and fright your patience Be brief First know I am Vitellio. Thou art a villain, and a poisoner then, Hast thou a drug for us? Yes such an one Shall make you love a poison: read, & wonder. I do: and more, how thou could purchase this Without a guilt. I did peruse the spoils Of Malatesta's carcase, whom I found Most strangely guilty, and as strangely dead, Whose pockets furnished me with these instructions Thus we learn Murder from thy Felony: But what should make me trust a confessed rogue? My villainy: my credit is my crime: Had not I stole, you had not understood. I must believe't: but dar'st thou poison well? Commit a crime, which thou mayst glory of? On whom dear Lady? Nay I care not whom. But I can give reward to a wise crime. My quick dispatch shall make you gladly know I understand, what you desire, and hide. Now should he poison Sforza. O fond hope! That mak'st us think all true that we desire. Should he betray us now? for what? that we Entreated him to kill, we knew not whom. By this expression thus much I have won: I may be made, but cannot be undone. FOrtune is merry, and the heaven disposed To play with me, I am turned Favourite. Me thinks my hairs ashamed of their white hue Should blush to youth: O how I could look big, Take Giant strides, dote on my lovely self, And talk as sillily as any Lord. To see the prettiness of action, Of State employment: Sforza's to be crowned, And I must win the popular suffrages. Good heavens! was ever such a merry load Imposed on Man: some cry the times are ill, Others could wish them better, and a third Knows how to make all well, but tells not how, And, cause that he is silent, would be wise. But in conclusion I do find them ready (On supposition of no more expense, And that their voice is sued for, not their purse) To give a lusty acclamation. Io, Io, gladly sing, Till the Heaven with wonder ring. He is fled, let Milan say Once more, he is fled, the day Clears again, and makes us see A braver light of victory. Io, Io, etc.
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)
Are those the Instruments? well my black friends, I eas'd you of a labour: all succeeds According to the flatt'ry of my wish, And my suspition turnes to prophecy. But my so bloody, and so wary Sforza, Your Agent's dead, but not your crime: 'twill out, And by this carcasse: I will flye to France, Divulge loud papers,—they are writ already,— And here they are, these I will sweare were found In the dead pois'ners pockets: by this meanes Sforza's proclaim'd a murtherer, I'me freed, And make it be his guilt, which was my deed. MAdame I have some newes of that import, That (if you please to command privacy) Will both desire, and fright your patience Be briefe First know I am Vitellio. Thou art a villaine, and a pois'ner then, Hast thou a drugge for us? Yes such an one Shall make you love a poyson: reade, & wonder. I doe: and more, how thou could purchase this Without a guilt. I did peruse the spoyles Of Malatesta's carcasse, whom I found Most strangely guilty, and as strangely dead, Whose pockets furnisht me with these instructions Thus we learne Murther from thy Felony: But what should make me trust a confest rogue? My villany: my credit is my crime: Had not I stole, you had not understood. I must beleev't: but darst thou poison well? Commit a crime, which thou maist glory of? On whom deare Lady? Nay I care not whom. But I can give reward to a wise crime. My quicke dispatch shall make you gladly know I understand, what you desire, and hide. Now should he poison Sforza. O fond hope! That mak'st us thinke all true that we desire. Should he betray us now? for what? that we Intreated him to kill, we knew not whom. By this expression thus much I have wonne: I may be made, but cannot be undone. FOrtune is merry, and the heav'n dispos'd To play with me, I am turn'd Favourite. Me thinkes my haires asham'd of their white hue Should blush to youth: O how I could looke big, Take Gyant strides, doat on my lovely selfe, And talke as fillily as any Lord. To see the prettinesse of action, Of State imployment: Sforza's to be crown'd, And I must winne the popular suffrages. Good Heav'ns! was ever such a merry load Impos'd on Man: some cry the times are ill, Others could wish them better, and a third Knowes how to make all well, but tells not how, And, cause that he is silent, would be wise. But in conclusion I doe finde them ready (On supposition of no more expence, And that their voice is su'd for, not their purse) To give a lusty acclamation. Io, Io, gladly sing, Till the Heav'n with wonder ring. He is fled, let Millan say Once more, he is fled, the day Cleares againe, and makes us see A braver light of victory. Io, Io, &c.