The Spanish Bawd (Calisto and Meliboea) (Celestina) · chunk 194 of 205
Mabbe, James / Rojas, Fernando de · published 1631 · first performed or written 1631 (Annals) tragicomedy; literary play T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.78 · 478 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Hear you what moan his poor servants make? hear you how woefully they lament his loss? wailing, and weeping, praying, and answering each to other, they carry away from me all my good, all my happiness; my dead joy, my dearest Love, they carry away from me; my time is come; I am but a dead woman; I can live no longer, since I may no more enjoy the joy of my heart. O that I should let thee go! that I should hold that jewel no faster which I so lately held in my hands. O ungrateful mortals! O unthankful as we be, who never know our happiness, until we want it! Up, up, madam; for it will be a greater dishonour unto you, to be found thus here in the garden, then either the pleasure you received by his coming, or the sorrow which you take for his death. Come, let us into your chamber. And go lay you down on your bed; and I will call your father. we will feign some other ill, since to hide this, it is impossible. What would you, Lucrecia. What means this exceeding haste, and with so great importunity, and troubledness of mind? What ails my daughter? What sudden sickness hath seized on her, that I cannot have the leisure to put on my clothes? nay, scarce so much time as to rise? Sir, if you will see her alive, come quickly. What her grief is, I know not; Nay, scarce know I her, so disfigured is her face. Come, let us go quickly; lead the way; in afore; lift up the hangings; open this same window; set it wide open, that I may have light enough to take a full view of her. Why, how now daughter? What's the matter? What is your pain? Where lies it? What a strange thing is this? What faintness do I see? What weakness and feebleness? Look upon me, daughter! I am thy father: Speak unto me, for pities sake speak; and tell me the cause of your grief, that we may the sooner provide a remedy. Send not my grey hairs with sorrow to the grave; thou knowest I have no other good but thee; no other worldly happiness. Open thy gladsome eyes; look cheerfully upon me. Ay me! What shall I do? What woe can equal mine, to see thee in such woeful plight? Your mother, as soon as ever she but heard you were ill, fell presently into a swoon, and lies in that extremity, and in a manner senseless, that she is not able to come and see thee. Be of good cheer, pluck up thy heart; and so raise up thy spirits, that thou may'st rise and go along with me to visit her. Tell me (sweet soul) the cause of thy sorrow. My cure is remediless.
nodes 1297–1304 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 194 of 205 in this edition
Length
478 words · 620 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.777 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T10 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Heare you what moane his poore seruants make? heare you how wofully they lament his losse? wailing, and weeping, praying, and answering each to other, they carry away from mee all my good, all my happinesse; my dead ioy, my dearest Loue, they carry away from me; my time is come; I am but a dead woman; I can liue no longer, since I may no more inioy the ioy of my heart. O that I should let thee goe! that I should hold that Iewell no faster which I so lately held in my hands. O vngratefull mortals! O vnthankefull as wee be, who neuer know our happinesse, vntill wee want it! Vp, vp, Madame; for it will be a greater dishonor vnto you, to be found thus heere in the garden, then eyther the pleasure you receiued by his comming, or the sorrow which you take for his death. Come, let vs into your chamber. And goe lay you downe on your bed; and I will call your father. Wee will faigne some other ill, since to hide this, it is impossible. What would you, Lucrecia. What meanes this exceeding haste, and with so great importunity, and troublednesse of minde? What ayles my daughter? What sudden sicknesse hath seazed on her, that I cannot haue the leysure to put on my cloathes? nay, scarce so much time as to rise? Sir, if you will see her aliue, come quickely. What her griefe is, I know not; Nay, scarce know I her, so disfigured is her face. Come, let vs goe quickly; lead the way; in afore; lift vp the hangings; open this same window; set it wide open, that I may haue light enough to take a full view of her. Why, how now daughter? What's the matter? What is your paine? Where lies it? What a strange thing is this? What faintnesse doe I see? What weakenesse and feeblenesse? Looke vpon me, daughter! I am thy father: Speake vnto me, for pitties sake speake; and tell mee the cause of your griefe, that wee may the sooner prouide a remedy. Send not my gray hayres with sorrow to the graue; thou knowest I haue no other good but thee; no other worldly happinesse. Open thy gladsome eyes; looke cheerefully vpon mee. Ay mee! What shall I doe? What woe can equall mine, to see thee in such wofull plight? Your mother, as soone as euer shee but heard you were ill, fell presently into a swound, and lies in that extremity, and in a manner senslesse, that shee is not able to come and see thee. Be of good cheere, plucke vp thy heart; and so raise vp thy spirits, that thou may'st rise and goe along with mee to visit her. Tell mee (sweete soule) the cause of thy sorrow. My cure is remedilesse.