Davenant, William · published 1629 · first performed or written 1628 [1626-1629] (Annals) tragedy · Unacted unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 476 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Sure Time grows humorous with age: for things Do differ much from the sincereness of Their first creation. I will go weep Till I am blind— Stay, Paradine. If thou dost mock my hopes With a slow motion in this just design, Expect to find my anger fatal. I'll to The King, and make a forfeiture of both Our lives: but if with hardy sinews thou dost march To 's Throat, and slit the swarthy Pipe, I'll call Thee then my Soldier. Besides thy country's thanks, Thou shalt enjoy me for thy Queen, thy Wife, Paradine. New Arts, t'involve imagination! How can this be, and my own wife strongly Possessed of health and nature! Wouldst thou embrace so eminent a bliss, Without some danger to thy soul? My memory betrays my skill! I know There are a thousand ways to discard her, From this foul, dirty Orb. Alas, good easy Soul! She'll ne'er be missed Among the living. Know, Valdaura's false. How! False! She is a open whore, and hath taught me This Art of lust. More horrible than Hell! Now furnish but my hands with an Hourglass, And a long Dart, than seat me on some rotten Monument for the picture of lean Death. Make me the common Executioner Of Nature. For ere long I shall become The sexton's Pensioner to fill his Graves. Valdaura false! Wilt thou thus leave me in a wild suspense, Whether I shall find thy courage active? For credit of your own humanity, Do not infringe the vulgar privilege Due to all hearts. Give me but leave to think; And ne'er doubt your business! Though I'm a young Sinner; yet I shall soon inquire the way To hell. 'tis a continued thoroughfare From this Climate thither. Or let me but Delay my journey, till the trivial rage Of Christian Princes, meet in horrid battle; And than I shall have company enough: Whole throngs to choke the throat of hell. Good night, madam. Ere yet the Morn 's fair cheek hath lost her tears, Dost call it night? To me it seems the Eye of heaven doth wink. All things are clothed in darkness, black as your Design. Stay, for else my rage will not permit That we survive another meeting. If thou suspectest we are too loud, I will Distil my thoughts into thy ear. Though t'assist my great hopes with opportune Induction, I consented to this act: Yet now I chide my fond spirits. For who Dares trust th' unruly appetite of youth? What I decreed she should but taste, she may Delight to surfeit on. It shows fulsome! Here's the precious medicine that must restore Health to my hopes. Follow, gentle Lady. You see 'em now? Fall, fall, you thick and spongy clouds, until You choke my sight. Do not my eyes begin To bleed at this object?
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)
Sure Time growes humerous with age: for things Doe differ much from the ſincereneſſe of Their firſt creation. I will goe weepe Till I am blind— Stay, Paradine. If thou doſt mocke my hopes With a ſlow motion in this iuſt deſigne, Expect to finde my anger fatall. Ile to The King, and make a forfeiture of both Our liues: but if with hardy ſinnewes thou doſt march To 's Throat, and ſlit the ſwarthy Pipe, I'le call Thee then my Souldier. Beſides thy Countries thanks, Thou ſhalt enioy me for thy Queene, thy Wife, Paradine. New Arts, t'inuolue imagination! How can this be, and my owne wife ſtrongly Poſſeſs'd of health and nature! VVould'ſt thou imbrace ſo eminent a bliſſe, VVithout ſome danger to thy ſoule? My memory betrayes my skill! I know There are a thouſand wayes to diſcard her, From this foule, durty Orbe. Alas, good eaſie Soule! She'le ne're be miſs'd Among the liuing. Know, Valdaura's falſe. How! Falſe! She is a open whore, and hath taught me This Art of luſt. More horrible then Hell! Now furniſh but my hands with an Hower-glaſſe, And a long Dart, then ſeat me on ſome rotten Monument for the picture of leane Death. Make me the common Executioner Of Nature. For ere long I ſhall become The Sextons Penſioner to fill his Graues. Valdaura falſe! Wilt thou thus leaue me in a wilde ſuſpence, Whether I ſhall finde thy courage actiue? For credit of your owne humanitie, Doe not infringe the vulgar priuiledge Due to all hearts. Giue me but leaue to thinke; And ne're doubt your buſineſſe! Though I'm a young Sinner; yet I ſhall ſoone inquire the way To hell. Tis a continu'd thorow-fare From this Climate thither. Or let me but Delay my iourney, till the triuiall rage Of Chriſtian Princes, meete in horri'd battaile; And then I ſhall haue company enough: VVhole throngs to choke the throat of hell. Good night, Madame. Ere yet the Morne 's faire cheek hath loſt her teares, Doſt call it night? To me it ſeemes the Eye of heauen doth winke. All things are cloath'd in darkeneſſe, blacke as your Deſigne. Stay, for elſe my rage will not permit That we ſuruiue another meeting. If thou ſuſpectſt we are too loud, I will Diſtill my thoughts into thy eare. Though t'aſſiſt my great hopes with opportune Induction, I conſented to this act: Yet now I chide my fond ſpirits. For who Dares truſt th' vnruly appetite of youth? What I decreed ſhe ſhould but taſte, ſhe may Delight to ſurfeit on. It ſhewes fulſome! Here's the precious medicine that muſt reſtore Health to my hopes. Follow, gentle Lady. You ſee 'em now? Fall, fall, you thicke and ſpungy clouds, vntill You choke my ſight. Doe not my eyes begin To bleed at this obiect?