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 0.85 · 513 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
One, my Lord, that doth so palpably, so apparently make her Adulteries a Trophy, whiles the poting-stick to her unsatiate and more than goatish abomination, jeers at, and flouts your sleepish, and more than sleepish security. What is she, but the sallow-coloured brat Of some unlanded bankrupt? taught to catch The easy fancies of young prodigal bloods, In springs of her stew-instructed Art? Here's your most Virtuous Duchess, your rare piece. More base in the infiniteness of her sensuality, Than corruption can infect: to clip and inveigle Your friend too, oh unsufferable! A friend? how of All men are you most unfortunate? to pour out Your soul into the bosom of such a creature, As holds it Religion to make your own trust a key, To open the passage to your own wine's womb, To be drunk in the privacies of your bed: Think upon that, Sir. Be gentle in your tortures, e'en for pity; For pity's cause I beg it. Be a Prince? thouHadst better, Duke, thou hadst been borne a peasant. Now boys will sing thy scandal in the streets, Tune Ballads to thy infamy, get money By making Pageants of thee, and invent Some strangely-shaped man-beast, that may for horns Resemble thee, and call it Pavy's Duke. Endless immortal plague. There's the mischief, Sir: In the mean time you shall be sure to have a Bastard, (of whom you did not so much as beget a little toe, a left ear, or halfe the further side of an upper lip) inherit both your Throne and Name; this would kill the soul of very patience itself. Forbear; the ashy paleness of my cheek Is scarleted in ruddy flakes of wrath: And like some bearded meteor shall suck up, With swiftest terror, all those dusky mists That overcloud Compassion in our breast. You have roused a sleeping Lion, whom no Art, No fawning smoothness shall reclaim, but blood. And Sister thou, thou Roderico, thou, From whom I take the surfeit of my bane, Henceforth no more so eagerly pursue, To whet my dulness; you shall see Caraffa Equal his birth, and matchless in revenge. Why now I hear you speak in majesty. And it becomes my Lord most Princely. Does it? come hither, Sister; thou art near In nature, and as near to me in love. I love thee; yes, by yond bright firmament, I love thee dearly: but observe me well: If any private grudge, or female spleen, Malice, or envy, or such woman's frailty, Have spurred thee on to set my soul on fire, Without apparent certainty; I vow And vow again, by all Princely blood, Hadst thou a double soul, or were the lives Of fathers, mothers, children, or the hearts Of all our Tribes in thine, I would unrip That womb of bloody mischief with these nails, Where such a cursed plot as this was hatched. But D'avolos, for thee— no more; to work A yet more strong impression in my brain, You must produce an instance to mine eye, Both present and apparent.— nay, you shall— Or—
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)
One, my Lord, that doth so palpably, so apparantly make her Adulteries a Trophey, whiles the poting-sticke to her vnsatiate and more then goatish abomination, jeeres at, and flouts your sleepish, and more then sleepish security. What is she, but the sallow-coloured brat Of some vnlanded banckrupt? taught to catch The casie fancies of young prodigall bloods, In springes of her stewe-instructed Art? Here's your most Vertuous Dutchesse, your rare peece. More base in the infinitenesse of her sensuality, Then corruption can infect: to clip and inueagle Your friend too, oh vnsufferable! A friend? how of All men are you most vnfortunate? to poure out Your soule into the bosome of such a creature, As holds it Religion to make your owne trust a key, To open the passage to your owne wines wombe, To be drunke in the priuacies of your bed: Thinke vpon that, Sir. Be gentle in your tortutes, ee'ne for pitty; For pitty's cause I begge it. Be a Prince? Th'hadst better, Duke, thou hadst bin borne a peasant. Now boyes will sing thy scandall in the streets, Tune Ballads to thy infamy, get mony By making Pageants of thee, and inuent Some strangely-shap'd man-beast, that may for hornes Resemble thee, and call it Pauy's Duke. Endlesse immortall plague. There's the mischiefe, Sir: In the meane time you shall bee sure to haue a Bastard, (of whom you did not so much as beget a little toe, a left eare, or halfe the further side of an vpper lip) inherit both your Throne and Name; this would kill the soule of very patience it selfe. Forbeare; the ashy palenesse of my cheeke Is scarletted in ruddy flakes of wrath: And like some bearded met shall sucke vp, With swiftest terror, all those dusky mists That ouercloud Compassion in our brest. You haue rouz'd a sleeping Lion, whom no Art, No sawning smoothnesse shall reclaime, but blood. And Sister thou, thou Roderico, thou, From whom I take the surfeit of my bane, Henceforth no more so eagerly pursue, To whet my dulnesse; you shall see Caraffa Equall his birth, and matchlesse in reuenge. Why now I heare you speake in maiesty. And it becomes my Lord most Princely. Does it? come hither, Sister; thou art neere In nature, and as neere to me in loue. I loue thee; yes, by yon bright firmament, I loue thee dearely: but obserue me well: If any priuate grudge, or female spleene, Malice, or enuy, or such womans frailty, Haue spurr'd thee on to set my soule on fire, Without apparent certainty; I vow And vow againe, by all Princely blood, Hadst thou a double soule, or were the liues Of fathers, mothers, children, or the hearts Of all our Tribes in thine, I would vnrip That wombe of bloody mischiefe with these nayles, Where such a cursed plot as this was hatcht. But D'auolos, for thee—no more; to worke A yet more strong impression in my braine, You must produce an instance to mine eye, Both present and apparent.—nay, you shall—Or—