The Renegado, or The Gentleman of Venice · chunk 27 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 unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 536 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
You are grown Satirical Against our sex, why sir I durst produce myself in our defence, and from you challenge A testimony not to be denied, All fall not under this unequal censure, I that have stood your flatteries, your threats Bore up against your fierce temptations; scorned The cruel means you practised to supplant me, Having no arms to help me, to hold out But love of piety, and constant goodness, If you are unconfirmed, dare again boldly Enter into the lists, and combat with All opposites man's malice can bring forth To shake me in my chastity built upon The rock of my religion. I do wish I could believe you, but when I shall show you A most incredible example of Your frailty in a Princess, sued and sought to By men of worth, of rank, of eminence; courted By happiness itself, and her cold temper Approved by many years; yet she to fall, Fall from herself, her glories, nay her safet, Into a gulf of shame, and black despair, I think you'll doubt yourself, or in beholding Her punishment for ever be deterred From yielding basely. I would see this wonder; 'tis sir my first petition. And thus granted; Above you shall observe all. Sir I sought you And must relate a wonder, since I studied And knew what man was, I was never witness Of such invincible fortitude as this Christian Shows in his sufferings, all the torments that We could present him with to fright his constancy Confirmed, not shook it; and those heavy chains That eat into his flesh, appeared to him Like bracelets made of some loved mistress hairs We kiss in the remembrance of her favours. I am strangely taken with it, and have lost Much of my fury. Had he suffered poorly It had called on my contempt, but manly patience And all commanding virtue, wins upon An enemy. I shall think upon him, ha! So soon returned? this speed pleads in excuse Of your late fault, which I no more remember. What's the grand signior's pleasure? 'tis enclosed here The box to, that contains it, may inform you How he stands affected: I am trusted with Nothing but this, on forfeit of your head She must have a speedy trial. Bring her in In black as to her funeral, 'tis the colour Her fault will her to wear, and which, in justice I dare not pity, sit and take your place, However in her life she has degenerated May she die nobly, and in that confirm Her greatness, and high blood. I now could melt; But soft compassion leave me. I am affrighted With this dismal preparation. Should the enjoying Of loose desires find ever such conclusions, All Women would be Vestals. That you clothe me In this sad livery of death, assures me Your sentence is gone out before, and I To late am called, for, in my guilty cause To use qualification, or excuse— Yet must I not part so with mine own strengths, But borrow from my modesty boldness, to inquire by whose authority you sit My judges, and whose warrant digs my grave In the frowns you dart against my life?
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)
You are growne Satyricall Against our sex, vvhy sir I durst produce My selfe in our defence, and from you challenge A testimony not to be deni'd, All fall not vnder this vnequall censure, I that haue stood your flatteries, your threats Bore vp against your fierce temptations; scorn'd The cruell meanes you practis'd to supplant me, Hauing no armes to helpe me, to hold out But loue of piety, and constant goodnesse, If you are vnconfirm'd, dare againe bouldly Enter into the lists, and combat vvith All opposites mans malice can bring forth To shake me in my chastetie built vpon The rocke of my religion. I doe vvish I could beleeue you, but vvhen I shall shew you A most incredible example of Your frayletie in a Princesse, su'de and sought to By men of worth, of ranck, of eminence; courted By happinesse it selfe, and her cold temper Approou'd by many yeeres; yet she to fall, Fall from her selfe, her glories, nay her safet, Into a gulfe of shame, and blacke despayre, I thinke you'll doubt your selfe, or in beholding Her punishment for euer be deterde From yeelding basely. I vvould see this vvonder; Tis sir my first petition. And thus granted; Aboue you shall obserue all. Sir I sought you And must relate a vvonder, since I studied And knew vvhat man vvas, I vvas neuer vvitnesse Of such inuincible fortitude as this Christian Showes in his sufferings, all the torments that We could present him vvith to fright his constancy Confirm'd, not shooke it; and those heauy chaines That eate into his flesh, appear'd to him Like bracelets made of some lou'd mistrisse hayres We kisse in the remembrance of her fauours. I am strangely taken vvith it, and haue lost Much of my furie. Had he suffer'd poorely It had call'd on my contempt, but manly patience And all commanding vertue, wins vpon An enemy. I shall thinke vpon him, ha! So soone return'd? this speede pleads in excuse Of your late fault, which I no more remember. What's the grand Signiors pleasure? Tis inclos'd heere The box to, that contaynes it, may informe you How he stands affected: I am trusted with Nothing but this, on forfeit of your head She must haue a speedy triall. Bring her in In blacke as to her funerall, tis the colour Her fault wils her to weare, and which, in iustice I dare not pitty, sit and take your place, Howeuer in her life she has degenerated May she die nobly, and in that confirme Her greatnesse, and high blood. I now could melt; But soft compassion leaue me. I am affrighted With this dismall preparation. Should the enioying Of loose desires finde euer such conclusions, All Women would be Vestalls. That you cloth me In this sad liuery of death, assures me Your sentence is gone out before, and I To late am cald, for, in my guilty cause To vse qualification, or excuse— Yet must I not part so with mine owne strengths, But borrow from my modesty boldnesse, to Enquire by whose authority you sit My iudges, and whose warrant digs my graue In the frownes you dart against my life?