Marlowe, Christopher · published 1633 · first performed or written 1589 [c.1589-1590] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown · before the Court T11 Siblings, kin and confidants typicality 0.73 · 476 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
A fair young maid scarce 14 years of age, The sweetest flower in Citherea's field, Cropped from the pleasures of the fruitful earth, And strangely metamorphized Nun. But say, What was she? Why the rich Jews daughter. What Barabas, whose goods were lately seized? Is she so fair? And matchless beautiful; As had you seen her 'twould have moved your heart, Though countermined with walls of brass, to love, Or at the least to pity. And if she be so fair as you report, 'Twere time well spent to go and visit her: How say you, shall we? I must and will, Sir, there's no remedy. And so will I too, or it shall go hard. Farewell Mathias. Farewell Lodowick. THus like the sad presaging Raven that tolls The sick man's passport in her hollow beak, And in the shadow of the silent night Doth shake contagion from her sable wings; Vexed and tormented runs poor Barabas With fatal curses towards these Christians. The incertain pleasures of swift-footed time Have ta'en their flight, and left me in despair; And of my former riches rests no more But bare remembrance; like a soldier's scar, That has no further comfort for his maim. Oh thou that with a fiery pillar led'st The sons of Israel through the dismal shades, Light Abraham's offspring; and direct the hand Of Abigal this night; or let the day Turn to eternal darkness after this: No sleep can fasten on my watchful eyes, Nor quiet enter my distempered thoughts, Till I have answer of my Abigal. Now have I happily espied a time To search the plank my father did appoint; And here behold (unseen) where I have found The gold, the pearls, and jewels which he hid. Now I remember those old women's words, Who in my wealth would tell me winter's tales, And speak of spirits and ghosts that glide by night About the place where Treasure hath been hid: And now methinks that I am one of those: For whilst I live, here lives my soul's sole hope, And when I die, here shall my spirit walk. Now that my father's fortune were so good As but to be about this happy place; 'Tis not so happy: yet when we parted last, He said he would attend me in the morn. Then, gentle sleep, where'er his body rests, Give charge to Morpheus that he may dream A golden dream, and of the sudden walk, Come and receive the Treasure I have found. Birn para todos, my ga nada no er: As good go on, as fit so sadly thus. But stay, what star shines yonder in the East? The lodestar of my life, if Abigal. Who's there? Who's that? Peace, Abigal, 'tis I. Then father here receive thy happiness. Hast thou'lt? Here, Hast thou'lt? There's more, and more, and more.
before the Court;Phoenix/Cockpit;Whitehall;Indoor Professional
Genre (British Drama)
tragedy
Play type
Adult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 998 · TCP A06991 · DEEP 812
Edition role
Representative edition — used in the analysis
Position
nodes 656–724 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 11 of 37 in this edition
Length
476 words · 646 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T11 — Siblings, kin and confidantscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.732 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
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)
A faire young maid scarce 14 yeares of age, The sweetest flower in Citherea's field, Cropt from the pleasures of the fruitfull earth, And strangely metamorphis'd Nun. But say, What was she? Why the rich Iewes daughter. What Barabas, whose goods were lately seiz'd? Is she so faire? And matchlesse beautifull; As had you seene her 'twould haue mou'd your heart, Tho countermin'd with walls of brasse, to loue, Or at the least to pitty. And if she be so faire as you report, 'Twere time well spent to goe and visit her: How say you, shall we? I must and will, Sir, there's no remedy. And so will I too, or it shall goe hard. Farewell Mathias. Farewell Lodowicke. THus like the sad presaging Rauen that tolls The sicke mans passeport in her hollow beake, And in the shadow of the silent night Doth shake contagion from her sable wings; Vex'd and tormented runnes poore Barabas With fatall curses towards these Christians. The incertaine pleasures of swift-footed time Haue tane their flight, and left me in despaire; And of my former riches rests no more But bare remembrance; like a souldiers skarre, That has no further comfort for his maime. Oh thou that with a fiery piller led'st The sonnes of Israel through the dismall shades, Light Abrahams off-spring; and direct the hand Of Abigall this night; or let the day Turne to eternall darkenesse after this: No sleepe can fasten on my watchfull eyes, Nor quiet enter my distemper'd thoughts, Till I haue answer of my Abigall. Now haue I happily espy'd a time To search the plancke my father did appoint; And here behold (vnseene) where I haue found The gold, the perles, and Iewels which he hid. Now I remember those old womens words, Who in my wealth wud tell me winters tales, And speake of spirits and ghosts that glide by night About the place where Treasure hath bin hid: And now me thinkes that I am one of those: For whilst I liue, here liues my soules sole hope, And when I dye, here shall my spirit walke. Now that my fathers fortune were so good As but to be about this happy place; 'Tis not so happy: yet when we parted last, He said he wud attend me in the morne. Then, gentle sleepe, where e're his bodie rests, Give charge to Morpheus that he may dreame A golden dreame, and of the sudden walke, Come and receiue the Treasure I haue found. Birn para todos, my ga nada no er: As good goe on, as fit so sadly thus. But stay, what starre shines yonder in the East? The Loadstarre of my life, if Abigall. Who's there? Who's that? Peace, Abigal, 'tis I. Then father here receiue thy happinesse. Hast thou't? Here, Hast thou't? There's more, and more, and more.