Hoffman, or A Revenge for a Father · chunk 29 of 39
Chettle, Henry · published 1631 · first performed or written 1602 [Dec 29, payment] (Annals) tragedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
I gods my witness, these were my laments, Till Hoffman being as willing, as myself; Did for his love to you, that pitied him. Take on him to be called by your son's name, Which now he must refuse except your Grace Attempt his service in Prince Otho's place, If this that you protest be true, your care Was like a long reprieve, the date worn out; The execution of my woe is come, And I must suffer it with patience: Where have you laid the body of my son? Within the chapel of an hermitage, Some half a mile hence. I'll build me there a Cell, Made like a tomb, till death, therein i'll dwell: Yet for thy wrongs young man attend my words Since neither Ferdinand, nor Saxony, Have any heirs, to sway their several states; I'll work what lies in me to make thee Duke, And since thou art accepted for my son, Attempting it only to do me good I here adopt thee: mine christen thee Otho, Mine eyes are now the font, the water tears, That do baptize thee in thy borrowed name. I thank your Highness, and of just heaven crave The ground I wrong you in, may turn my grave. Lights to our chamber, now our fears are past, What we long doubted, is proved true at last. Attend us son. we'll wait upon your Grace. Son, this is somewhat, this will bear the eyes Of the rude vulgar, but this serves not me; Dukedoms I will have them my sword shall win, If any interposer cross my will, But new made mother, there's another fire Burns in this liver lust, and hot desire, which you must quench; must? I and shall; I know Women will like however they say no; And since my heart is knit unto her eyes If she, being sanctimonious, hate my suit, In love this course i'll take, if she deny; Force her: true, so: si non blanditijs, vi. Have you not found her yet? Not I, Nor I. Then I believe borne by her fits of rage She has done violence to her bright fame, And fall'n upon the bosom of the Balt. What reason leads ye to believe it, son? I did perceive her some half hour since Clambering upon the steepness of the rock, But whether up or down I could not guess By reason of the distance. Stand aside, she comes, let her not scape us now. What has she got apparel? I and rich, Poor soul, she in her idle lunacy Hath took it from some house where 'twill be missed. let's circle her about, least spying us she run away with wonted nimbleness, Fairest well met. Well overtaken sir. What have ye here? And you too heartily. I am sure you know. Why that's well, I like that, that you are well and you, and you: god buy.
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)
I gods my witnesse, these were my laments, Till Hoffman being as willing, as my selfe; Did for his loue to you, that pittied him. Take on him to be cald by your sons name, Which now he must refuse except your Grace Attept his seruice in Prince Otho's place, If this that you protest be true, your care Was like a long reprieue, the date worne out; The execution of my woe is come, And I must suffer it with patience: Where haue you layd the body of my son? Within the chappell of an hermitage, Some halfe a myle hence. Ile build mee there a Cell, Made like a tombe, till death, therein ile dwell: Yet for thy wrongs yong man attend my words Snce neyther Ferdinand, nor Saxony, Haue any heires, to sway their seuerall states; Ile worke what lies in e to make thee Duke, And since thou art accepted for my son, Attempting it onely to doe me good I here adopt thee: myne christen thee Otho, Mine eyes are now the font, the water teares, That doe baptize thee in thy borrowed name. I thanke your Highnes, and of iust heauen craue The ground I wrong you in, may turne my graue. Lights to our chamber, now our feares are past, What we long doubted, is prou'd true at last. Attend vs sonne. Wee'l wait vpon your Grace. Son, this is somewhat, this will beare the eyes Of the rude vulgar, but this serues not me; Dukedomes I will haue them my sword shall win, If any interposer crosse my will, But new made mother, ther's another fire Burnes in this liuer lust, and hot desire, which you must quench; must? I and shall; I know Women will like how euer they say noe; And since my heart is knit vnto her eyes If she, being sanctimonious, hate my uit, In loue this course ile take, if she denie; Force her: true, soe: si non blanditijs, vi. Haue you not found her yet? Not I, Nor I. Then I beleeeue borne by her fits of rage She ha's done violence to her bright same, And falne vpon the bosome of the Balt. What reason leads yee to beleeue it, son? I did perceiue her some halfe houre since Clambring vpon the steepenes of the rocke, But whether vp or downe I could not guesse By reason of the distance. Stand aside, she comes, let her not scape vs now. What has shee got apparrell? I and rich, Poore soule, shee in her idle lunacy Hath tooke it from some house where t'will be mist. Lets circle her about, least spying vs she run away with wonted nimblenesse, Fayrest well met. Well ouertaken sir. What haue ye here? And you too heartely. I am sure you know. Why that's well, I like that, that you are well and you, and you: god buye.