Marlowe, Christopher · published 1633 · first performed or written 1589 [c.1589-1590] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown · before the Court T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.75 · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
This is the place, now Abigal shall see Whether Mathias holds her dear or no. What, dares the villain write in such base terms? I did it, and revenge it if thou dar'st. Oh bravely fought, and yet they thrust not home. Now Lodowick, now Mathias, so; So now they have showed themselves to be tall fellows. Part 'em, part 'em. ay, part 'em now they are dead: Farewell, farewell. What sight is this? my Lodowick slain! These arms of mine shall be thy Sepulchre. Who is this? my son Mathias slain! Oh Lodowick! hadst thou perished by the Turk, Wretched Ferneze might have venged thy death. Thy son slew mine, and I'll revenge his death. Look, Katherin, look, thy son gave mine these wounds O leave to grieve me, I am grieved enough. Oh that my sighs could turn to lively breath; And these my tears to blood, that he might live. Who made them enemies? I know not, and that grieves me most of all. My son loved thine. And so did Lodowick him. Lend me that weapon that did kill my son, And it shall murder me. Nay Madem stay, that weapon was my son's, And on that rather should Ferneze die. Hold, let's inquire the causers of their deaths, That we may venge their blood upon their heads. Then take them up, and let them be interred Within one sacred monument of stone; Upon which Altar I will offer up My daily sacrifice of sighs and tears, And with my prayers pierce impartial heavens, Till they the causers of our smarts, Which forced their hands divide united hearts: Come, Katherina, our losses equal are, Then of true grief let us take equal share. Why was there ever seen such villainy, so neatly Plotted, and so well performed? both held in hand, and Flatly both beguiled. Why how now Ithimore, why laugh'st thou so? Oh, Mistress, ha ha ha. Why what ail'st thou? Oh my master. Ha. Oh Mistress! I have the bravest, gravest, secret, subtle Bottle-nosed knave to my Master, that ever Gentleman had Say, knave, why railest upon my father thus? Oh, my master has the bravest policy. Wherein? Why, know you not? Why no. Know you not of Mathia & Don Lodowick disaster? No, what was it? Why the devil invented a challenge, my Mr. writ it, And I carried it, first to Lodowick, and imprimis to Mathia. And then they met, as the story says, In doleful wise they ended both their days. And was my father furtherer of their deaths? Am I Ithimore? Yes. So sure did your father write, & I carry the challenge. Well, Ithimore, let me request thee this, Go to the new made Nunnery, and inquire For any of the Friars of St. Iaynes, And say, I pray them come and speak with me. I pray, mistress, will you answer me to one question? Well, sirrah, what is't?
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 1214–1282 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 20 of 37 in this edition
Length
490 words · 708 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.753 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
This is the place, now Abigall shall see Whether Mathias holds her deare or no. What, dares the villain write in such base terms? I did it, and reuenge it if thou dar'st. Oh brauely fought, and yet they thrust not home. Now Lodowicke, now Mathias, so; So now they haue shew'd themselues to be tall fellowes. Part 'em, part 'em. I, part 'em now they are dead: Farewell, farewell. What sight is this? my Lodowicke slaine! These armes of mine shall be thy Sepulchre. Who is this? my sonne Mathias slaine! Oh Lodowicke! hadst thou perish'd by the Turke, Wretched Ferneze might haue veng'd thy death. Thy sonne slew mine, and I'le reuenge his death. Looke, Katherin, looke, thy sonne gaue mine these woūds O leaue to griue me, I am grieu'd enough. Oh that my sighs could turne to liuely breath; And these my teares to blood, that he might liue. Who made them enemies? I know not, and that grieues me most of all. My sonne lou'd thine. And so did Lodowicke him. Lend me that weapon that did kill my sonne, And it shall murder me. Nay Madem stay, that weapon was my son's, And on that rather should Ferneze dye. Hold, let's inquire the causers of their deaths, That we may venge their blood vpon their heads. Then take them vp, and let them be interr'd Within one sacred monument of stone; Vpon which Altar I will offer vp My daily sacrifice of sighes and teares, And with my prayers pierce impartiall heauens, Till they the causers of our smarts, Which forc'd their hands diuide vnited hearts: Come, Katherina, our losses equall are, Then of true griefe let vs take equall share. Why was there euer seene such villany, so neatly Plotted, and so well perform'd? both held in hand, and Flatly both beguil'd. Why how now Ithimore, why laugh'st thou so? Oh, Mistresse, ha ha ha. Why what ayl'st thou? Oh my master. Ha. Oh Mistris! I haue the brauest, grauest, secret, subtil Bottle-nos'd knaue to my Master, that euer Gentleman had Say, knaue, why rail'st vpon my father thus? Oh, my master has the brauest policy. Wherein? Why, know you not? Why no. Know you not of Mathia & Don Lodowick disaster? No, what was it? Why the deuil inuented a challenge, my Mr. writ it, And I carried it, first to Lodowicke, and imprmis to Mathia. And then they met, as the story sayes, In dolefull wise they ended both their dayes. And was my father furtherer of their deaths? Am I Ithimore? Yes. So sure did your father write, & I cary the chalenge. Well, Ithimore, let me request thee this, Goe to the new made Nunnery, and inquire For any of the Fryars of St. Iaynes, And say, I pray them come and speake with me. I pray, mistris, wil you answer me to one question? Well, sirra, what is't?