The Renegado, or The Gentleman of Venice · chunk 24 of 39
Massinger, Philip · published 1630 · first performed or written 1624 [licensed for stage, Sep 17] [incorrect] (Annals) tragicomedy · Lady Elizabeth's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit T57 Ships, merchants and pirates typicality 0.82 · 510 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T57: ship, sea, master, sail, home, money, pisaro, life, ships, till.
It ill becomes Such as are guilty to deliver threats Against the innocent. I could tear this flesh now, But 'tis in vain, nor must I talk but do: Provide a well made galley for Constantinople, Such sad news never came to our great Master; As he directs, we must proceed, and know No will but his, to whom what's ours we owe. He does begin to eat? A little, Master, But our best hope for his recovery, is that His raving leaves him, and those dreadful words, Damnation, and despair, with which he ever Ended all his discourses are forgotten. This stranger is a most religious man sure, And I am doubtful whether his charity, In the relieving of our wants, or care To cure the wounded conscience of Grimaldi, Deserves more admiration. Can you guess What the reason should be that we never mention The Church, or the high Altar, but his melancholy Grows, and increases on him? I have heard him (When he gloried to profess himself an Atheist,) Talk often and with much delight and boasting, Of a rude prank he did ere he turned Pirate, The memory of which, as it appears, Lies heavy on him. Pray you let me understand it. Upon a solemn day when the whole City joined in devotion, and with barefoot steps Passed to S. Marks, the Duke and the whole Signiory, Helping to perfect the Religious pomp, With which they were received; when all men else Were full of tears, and groaned beneath the weight Of past offences (of whose heavy burden They came to be absolved and freed,) our Captain, Whether in scorn of those so pious rites He had no feeling of, or else drawn to it Out of a wanton irreligious madness, (I know not which) ran to the holy man, As he was of doing the work of grace, And snatching from his hands the sanctified means Dashed it upon the pavement. How escaped he? It being a deed deserving death with torture. The general amazement of the people Gave him leave to quit the Temple, and a gondola, (Prepared it seems before) brought him aboard, Since which he ne'er saw Venice. The remembrance Of this, it seems, torments him; aggravated With a strong belief he cannot receive pardon For this foul fact, but from his hands against whom It was committed. And what course intends His heavenly Physician, reverend Francisco, To beat down this opinion. He promised To use some holy and religious fineness, To this good end, and in the mean time charged me To keep him dark, and to admit no visitants But on no terms to cross him. Here he comes. For theft! he that restores treble the value, Makes satisfaction, and for want of means To do so, as a slave must serve it out Till he hath made full payment. there's hope left here O with what willingness would I give up My liberty to those that I have pillaged And wish the numbers of my years though wasted
seed 43: T55 · seed 44: T46 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
It ill becomes Such as are guilty to deliuer threats Against the innocent. I could teare this flesh now, But tis in vaine, nor must I talke but do: Prouide a well made galley for Constantinople, Such sad newes neuer came to our great Master; As hee directs, we must proceed, and know No will but his, to whom what's ours we owe. He does begin to eate? A little, Master, But our best hope for his recouery, is that His rauing leaues him, and those dreadfull words, Damnation, and despayre, with which he euer Ended all his discourses are forgotten. This stranger is a most religious man sure, And I am doubtfull whether his charity, In the relieuing of our wants, or care To cure the wounded conscience of Grimaldi, Deserues more admiration. Can you guesse What the reason should be that we neuer mention The Church, or the high Altar, but his melancholie Growes, and increases on him? I haue heard him (When he gloried to professe himselfe an Atheist,) Talke often and with much delight and boasting, Of a rude prancke he did ere he turn'd Pirat, The memory of which, as it appeares, Lies heauy on him. Pray you let me vnderstand it. Vpon a solemne day when the whole City Ioyn'd in deuotion, and with barefoote steps Pass'd to S. Markes, the Duke and the whole Signiory, Helping to perfit the Religious pompe, With which they were receaued; when all men else Were full of teares, and gron'd beneath the waight Of past offences (of whose heauy burden They came to be absolu'd and freed,) our Captaine, Whether in scorne of those so pious rites He had no feeling of, or else drawne to it Out of a wanton irreligious madnesse, (I know not which) ranne to the holy man, As he was of doing the worke of grace, And snatching from his hands the sanctifide meanes Dash'd it vpon the pauement. How escaped he? It being a deede deseruing death with torture. The generall amazement of the people Gaue him leaue to quit the Temple, and a Gundelo, (Prepar'd it seemes before) brought him aboard, Since which he nere saw Venice. The remembrance Of this, it seemes, torments him; aggrauated With a strong beleefe he cannot receaue pardon For this fowle fact, but from his hands against whom It was committed. And vvhat course intendes His heauenly Physitian, reuerend Francisco, To beate downe this opinion. He promis'd To vse some holy and religious finenesse, To this good end, and in the meane time charg'd me To keepe him darke, and to admit no visitants But on no termes to crosse him. Heere he comes. For theft! he that restores trebble the value, Makes satisfaction, and for want of meanes To doe so, as a slaue must serue it out Till he hath made full payment. Ther's hope left heere O vvith vvhat vvil ingnesse vvould I giue vp My liberty to those that I haue pillag'd And vvish the numbers of my yeeres though wasted