Marlowe, Christopher · published 1633 · first performed or written 1589 [c.1589-1590] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown · before the Court T15 Friars and holy orders in plot typicality 0.85 · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T15: friar, lord, holy, friars, robin, peggy, lacie, angelo, love, nun.
A very feeling one; have not the nun's fine sport With the Friars now and then? Go to, sirrah sauce, is this your question? get ye gone I will forsooth, Mistress. Hard-hearted Father, unkind Barabas, Was this the pursuit of thy policy? To make me show them favour severally, That by my favour they should both be slain? Admit thou lov'dst not Lodowick for his sin, Yet Don Mathias ne'er offended thee: But thou wert set upon extreme revenge, Because the Prior dispossessed thee once, And couldst not venge it, but upon his son, Nor on his son, but by Mathias means; Nor on Mathias, but by murdering me. But I perceive there is no love on earth, Pity in Jews, nor piety in Turks. But here Comes cursed Ithimore with the Friar. Virgo, salve. When duck you? Welcome grave Friar Ithimore: begone, Know, holy Sir, I am bold to solicit thee. Wherein? To get me be admitted for a Nun. Why Abigal it is not yet long since That I did labour thy admission, And than thou didst not like that holy life. Then were my thoughts so frail & unconfirmed, And I was chained to follies of the world: But now experience, purchased with grief, Has made me see the difference of things. My sinful soul, alas, hath paced too long The fatal Labyrinth of misbelief, Far from the Son that gives eternal life. Who taught thee this? The abbess of the house, Whose zealous admonition I embrace: Oh therefore, Iacomi, let me be one, Although unworthy of that Sisterhood. Abigal I will, but see, thou change no more, For that will be most heavy to thy soul. That was my father's fault. Thy father's, how? Nay, you shall pardon me: oh Barabas, Though thou deservest hardly at my hands, Yet never shall these lips bewray thy life. Come, shall we go? My duty waits on you. What, Abigal become a Nun again? False, and unkind; what hast thou lost thy father? And all unknown, and unconstrained of me, Art thou again got to the Nunnery? Now here she writes, and will me to repent. Repentance? Spurca: what pretendeth this? I fear she knows ('tis so) of my device In Don Mathias and Lodovico's deaths: If so, 'tis time that it be seen into: For she that varies from me in belief Gives great presumption that she loves me not; Or loving, doth dislike of something done: But who comes here? Oh Ithimore come near; Come near my love, come near thy master's life, My trusty servant, nay, my second life; For I have now no hope but even in thee; And on that hope my happiness is built: When sawst thou Abigal? Today. With whom? A Friar. A Friar? false villain, he hath done the deed. How, Sir? Why made mine Abigal a Nun. That's no lie, for she sent me for him.
seed 43: T19 · seed 44: T20 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
A very feeling one; haue not the Nuns fine sport With the Fryars now and then? Go to, sirra sauce, is this your question? get ye gon I will forsooth, Mistris. Hard-hearted Father, unkind Barabas, Was this the pursuit of thy policie? To make me shew them fauour seuerally, That by my fauour they should both be slaine? Admit thou lou'dst not Lodowicke for his sinne, Yet Don Mathias ne're offended thee: But thou wert set vpon extreme reuenge, Because the Pryor dispossest thee once, And couldst not venge it, but vpon his sonne, Nor on his sonne, but by Mathias meanes; Nor on Mathias, but by murdering me. But I perceiue there is no loue on earth, Pitty in Iewes, nor piety in Turkes. But here Comes cursed Ithimore with the Fryar. Virgo, salve. When ducke you? Welcome graue Fryar Ithamore begon, Know, holy Sir, I am bold to sollicite thee. Wherein? To get me be admitted for a Nun. Why Abigal it is not yet long since That I did labour thy admition, And then thou didst not like that holy life. Then were my thoughts so fraile & vnconfirm'd, And I was chain'd to follies of the world: But now experience, purchased with griefe, Has made me see the difference of things. My sinfull soule, alas, hath pac'd too long The fatall Labyrinth of misbeleefe, Farre from the Sonne that giues eternall life. Who taught thee this? The Abbasse of the house, Whose zealous admonition I embrace: Oh therefore, Iacomi, let me be one, Although unworthy of that Sister-hood. Abigal I will, but see, thou change no more, For that will be most heauy to thy soule. That was my father's fault. Thy father's, how? Nay, you shall pardon me: oh Barabas, Though thou deseruest hardly at my hands, Yet neuer shall these lips bewray thy life. Come, shall we goe? My duty waits on you. What, Abigall become a Nunne againe? False, and vnkinde; what hast thou lost thy father? And all vnknowne, and vnconstrain'd of me, Art thou againe got to the Nunnery? Now here she writes, and wils me to repent. Repentance? Spurca: what pretendeth this? I feare she knowes ('tis so) of my deuice In Don Mathias and Lodovicoes deaths: If so, 'tis time that it be seene into: For she that varies from me in beleefe Giues great presumption that she loues me not; Or louing, doth dislike of something done: But who comes here? Oh Ithimore come neere; Come neere my loue, come neere thy masters life, My trusty seruant, nay, my second life; For I haue now no hope but euen in thee; And on that hope my happinesse is built: When saw'st thou Abigall? To day. With whom? A Fryar. A Fryar? false villaine, he hath done the deed. How, Sir? Why made mine Abigall a Nunne. That's no lye, for she sent me for him.