Ford, John · published 1633 · first performed or written 1632 [1632-1633] (Annals) tragedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.87 · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Gone! oh my sorrows! how am I undone? Not speak again? no, no, in her chaste breast Virtue and resolution have discharged All female weakness: I have sued and sued, Kneeled, wept, and begged; but tears, and vows, and words, Move her no more than summer-winds a rock: I must resolve to check this rage of blood, And will; she is all icy to my fires, Yet even that ye inflames in me desires. Is't possible the Duke should be so moved? 'Tis true; you have no enemy at Court But her, for whom you pine so much in love: Then master your affections; I am sorry you hug your ruin so. What say you to the project I proposed? I entertain it, with a greater joy Than shame can check. You are come as I could wish, my cousin is resolved. Without delay yourself, and meet at Court anon, Some half hour hence; and Cupid bless your joy, Is ever man was bounden to a friend— No more; away: love's rage is yet unknown, In his (ay me) too well, I feel my own: So, now I am alone, now let me think; She is the Duchess; say she be: A Creature Sowed up in painted cloth, might so be styled, That's but a name; she's married too, she is, And therefore better might distinguish love: She's young, and fair; why, Madam, that's the bait Invites me more to hope; she's the Duke's wife; Who knows not this? she's bosomed to my friend: There, there, I am quite lost: will not be won; Still worse and worse; abhors to hear me speak: Eternal mischief, I must urge no more: For were I not belepered in my soul, Here were enough to quench the flames of hell. What then? pish, I must not speak, I'll write. Come then, sad Secretary to my plaints, Plead thou my faith, for words are turned to sighs. What says this paper?— he reads to himself. Now is the time; alone; reading a letter; good; how now? striking his breast? what, in the name of policy, should this mean? tearing his hair? passion, by all the hopes of my life, plain passion: now I perceive it; if this be not a fit of some violent affection, I am an ass in understanding; why 'tis plain, plainer and plainer: Love in the extremest: oh for the party, who now? the greatness of his spirits is to high cherished to be caught with some ordinary stuff, and if it be my Lady Fiormonda, I am strangely mistook: well, that I have fit occasion soon to understand: I have here two pictures, newly drawn, to be sent for a present to the Abbot of Monacho, the Duchess Uncle, her own and my Ladies: I'll observe which of these may, perhaps, bewray him:— a turns about, my noble Lord. Y'are welcome, Sir, I thank you Me, my Lord? for what, my Lord?
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Gon! oh my sorrowes! how am I vndone? Not speake againe? no, no, in her chast brest Vertue and resolution haue discharg'd All female weaknesse: I haue su'd and su'd, Kneel'd, wept, and begg'd; but teares, and vowes, and words, Moue her no more then summer-winds a rocke: I must resolue to checke this rage of blood, And will; she is all ycie to my fires, Yet euen that yee inflames in me desires. Is't possible the Duke should be so mou'd? 'Tis true; you haue no enemy at Court But her, for whom you pine so much in loue: Then master your affections; I am sory you hug your ruine so. What say you to the proiect I propos'd? I entertaine it, with a greater ioy Then shame can checke. You are come as I could wish, my Cozen is resolu'd. Without delay Prapare your selfe, and meet at Courtanon, Some halfe houre hence; and Cupid blesse your ioy, Is euer man was bounden to a friend— No more; away: loues rage is yet vnknown, In his (aye me) too well, I feele my owne: So, now I am alone, now let me thinke; Shee is the Dutchesse; say she be: A Creature Sow'd vp in painted cloth, might so be styl'd, That's but a name; shee's married too, she is, And therefore better might distinguish loue: She's young, and faire; why, Madam, that's the bait Inuites me more to hope; she's the Dukes wife; Who knowes not this? she's bosom'd to my friend: There, there, I am quite lost: will not be won; Still worse and worse; abhorres to heare me speake: Eternall mischiefe, I must vrge no more: For were I not beleapred in my soule, Here were enough to quench the flames of hell. What then? pish, I must not speake, I'le write. Come then, sad Secretary to my plaints, Plead thou my faith, for words are turn'd to sighs. What sayes this paper?—he reads to himselfe. Now is the time; alone; reading a letter; good; how now? striking his brest? what, in the name of policy, should this meane? tearing his haire? passion, by all the hopes of my life, plaine passion: now I perceiue it; if this bee not a fit of some violent affection, I am an asse in vnderstanding; why 'tis plaine, plainer and plainer: Loue in the extreamest: oh for the party, who now? the greatnesse of his spirits is to high cherish'd to be caught with some ordinary stuffe, and if it bee my Lady Fiormonda, I am strangely mistooke: well, that I haue fit occasion soone to vnderstand: I haue here two pictures, newly drawne, to bee sent for a present to the Abbot of Monacho, the Dutchesse Vncle, her owne and my Ladies: I'le obserue which of these may, perhaps, bewray him:—a turnes about, my noble Lord. Y'are welcome, Sir, I thanke you Me, my Lord? for what, my Lord?