Field, Nathan / Massinger, Philip · published 1632 · first performed or written 1619 [1617-1619] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 512 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Pray bear this to my father, at his leisure He may peruse it: but with your best language Entreat his instant presence: you have sworn Not to reveal what I have done. Nor will I— but— Doubt me not, by Heaven, I will do nothing But what may stand with honour: Pray you leave me To my own thoughts. If this be to me, rise; I am not worthy the looking on, but only To feed contempt and scorn, and that from you Who with the loss of your fair name have caused it, Were too much cruelty. I dare not move you To hear me speak I know my fault is far Beyond qualification, or excuse, That 'tis not fit for me to hope, or you To think of mercy; only I presume To entreat, you would be pleased to look upon My sorrow for it, and believe, these tears Are the true children of my grief and not A woman's cunning. Can you Beaumelle, Having deceived so great a trust as mine, Though I were all credulity, hope again To get belief? no, no, if you look on me With pity or dare practise any means To make my sufferings less, or give just cause To all the world, to think what I must do, Was called upon by you, use other ways, Deny what I have seen, or justify What you have done, and as you desperately Made shipwreck of your faith to be a whore, Use th' arms of such a one, and such defence, And multiply the sin, with impudence, Stand boldly up, and tell me to my teeth, You have done but what's warranted, By great examples, in all places, where Women inhabit, urge your own deserts, Or want of me in merit; tell me how, Your dowry from the low gulf of poverty, Weighed up my fortunes, to what now they are: That I was purchased by your choice, and practise To shelter you from shame: that you might sin As boldly as securely, that poor men Are married to those wives that bring them wealth, One day their husbands, but observers ever: That when by this proved usage you have blown The fire of my just vengeance to the height. I then may kill you: and yet say 'twas done In heat of blood, and after die myself, To witness my repentance. O my fate, That never would consent that I should see, How worthy thou wert both of love and duty Before I lost you; and my misery made The glass, in which I now behold your virtue: While I was good, I was a part of you, And of two by the virtuous harmony Of our fair minds, made one: but since I wandered In the forbidden Labyrinth of lust, What was inseparable, is by me divided. With justice therefore you may cut me off, And from your memory, wash the remembrance That ere I was like to some vicious purpose Within your better judgement, you repent of And study to forget.
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)
Pray beare this to my fathr, at his leasure He may peuse it: but with your best language Intreat his instant presence: you haue sworne Not to reueale what I haue done. Nor will I—but — Doubt me not, by Heauen, I will doe nothing But what may stand with honour: Pray you leaue me To my owne thoughts. If this be to me, rise; I am not worthy the looking on, but onely To feed contempt and scorne, and that from you Who with the losse of your faire name haue caus'd it, Were too much cruelty. I dare not moue you To heare me speake I know my fault is farre Beyond qualification, or excuse That 'tis not fit for me to hope, or you To thinke of mercy; onely I presume To intreate, you would be pleas'd to looke vpon My sorrow for it, and beleeue, these teares Are the true children of my griefe and not A womans cunning. Can you Beaumelle, Hauing deceiued so great a trust as mine, Though I were all credulity, hope againe To get beleefe? no, no, if you looke on me With pity or dare practise any meanes To make my sufferings lesse, or giue iust cause To all the world, to thinke what I must doe, Was cal'd vpon by you, vse other waies, Deny what I haue seene, or iustifie What you haue done, and as you desperately Made shipwracke of your fayth to be a whore, Vse th' armes of such a one, and such defence, And multiply the sinne, with impudence, Stand boldly vp, and tell me to my teeth, You haue done but what's warranted, By great examples, in all places, where Women inhabit, vrge your owne deserts, Or want of me in merit; tell me how, Your dowre from the low gulfe of pouerty, Weighd vp my fortunes, to what now they are That I was purchas'd by your choyse, and practise To shelter you from shame: that you might sinne As boldly as securely, that poore men Are married to those wiues that bring them wealth, One day their husbands, but obseruers euer: That when by this prou'd vsage you haue blowne The fire of my iust vengeance to the height. I then may kill you: and yet say 'twas done In heate of blood, and after die my selfe, To witnesse my repentance. O my fate, That neuer would consent that I should see, How worthy thou wert both of loue and duty Before I lost you; and my misery made The glasse, in which I now behold your vertue: While I was good, I was a part of you, And of two by the vertuous harmony Of our faire mindes, made one: but since I wandred In the forbidden Labyrinth of lust, What was inseparable, is by me diuided. With iustice therefore you may cut me off, And from your memory, wash the remembrance That ere I was like to some vicious purpose Within your better iudgement, you repent of And study to forget.