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 · 488 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Yes.— Oh! I cry thee mercy.— how the rage Of my undreamt of wrongs, made me forget All sense of sufferance! blame me not, Biancha; One such another dream would quite distract Reason and self humanity; yet tell me, Was't not an ominous vision? 'Twas, my Lord; Yet but a vision; for did such a guilt Hang on mine honour, 'twere no blame in you If you did stab me to the heart. The heart? Nay, strumpet, to the soul; and tear it off From life, to damn it in immortal death Alas, what do you mean, Sir? I am mad.— Forgive me, good Biancha; still methinks I dream, and dream anew: now prithee chide me. Sickness, and these divisions, so distract My senses, that I take things possible As if they were: which to remove, I mean To speed me straight to Luca; where, perhaps, Absence and bathing in those healthful springs May soon recover me: mean time, dear sweet, Pity my troubled heart; griefs are extreme; Yet, Sweet, when I am gone, think on my dream. Who waits without, ho? is provision ready, To pass to Luca? It attends your Highness. Friend, hold; take here from me this jewel, this: Be she your care till my return from Luca: Honest Fernando, wife respect my friend, Let's go: but hear ye wife, think on my dream. Cousin, one word with you: doth not this Cloud Acquaint you with strange novelties? The Duke Is lately much distempered; what he means By journeying now to Luca, is to me A riddle; can you clear my doubt? O Sir! My fears exceed my knowledge, yet I note No less than you infer: all is not well, Would 'twere: whosoever thrive, I shall be sure Never to rise to my unhoped desires: But Cousin, I shall tell you more anon; Mean time pray send my Lord Fernando to me, I covet much to speak with him. And see, He comes himself; I'll leave you both together. The Duke is horsed for Luca: how now coz, How prosper you in love? As still I hoped: My Lord you are undone. Undone I in what? Lost; and I fear your life is bought and sold; I'll tell you how: late in my Lady's chamber, As I by chance lay slumbering on the mats, In comes the Lady marquess, and with her, Iulia and D'avolos; where sitting down, Not doubting me, Madam (quoth D'avolas) We have discovered now the nest of shame: In short, my Lord, (for you already know As much as they reported) there was told The circumstance of all your private love And meetings with the Duchess; when at last False D'avolos concluded with an oath, we'll make (quoth he) his heartstrings crack for this. Speaking of me? Of you: I (quoth the marquess) Were not the Duke a baby, he would seek Swift vengeance; for he knew it long ago.
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Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Yes.—Oh! I cry thee mercy.—how the rage Of my vndreamt of wrongs, made me forget All sense of suffrance! blame me not, Biancha; One such another dreame would quite dstract Reason and selfe humanity; yet tell me, Was't not an ominous vision? 'Twas, my Lord; Yet but a vision; for did such a guilt Hang on mine honour, 'twere no blame in you If you did stab me to the heart. The heart? Nay, strumpet, to the soule; and teare it off From life, to damne it in immortall death Alas, what doe you meane, Sir? I am mad.— Forgiue me, good Biancha; still me thinkes I dreame, and dreame anew: now prethe chide me. Sicknesse, and these diuisions, so distract My senses, that I take things possible As if they were: which to remoue, I meane To speed me streight to Luca; where, perhaps, Absence and bathing in those healthfull springs May soone recouer me: meane time, deare sweet, Pitty my troubled heart; griefes are extreame; Yet, Sweet, when I am gone, thinke on my dreame. Who waits without, ho? is prouision ready, To passe to Luca? It attends your Highnesse. Friend, hold; take here from me this Iewel, this: Be she your care till my returne from Luca: Honest Fernando, wife respect my friend, Let's goe: but heare ye wife, thinke on my dreame. Couzen, one word with you: doth not this Cloud Acquaint you with strange nouelties? The Duke Is lately much distemper'd; what he meanes By journeying now to Luca, is to me A rddle; can you cleare my doubt? O Sir! My feares exceed my knowledge, yet I note No lesse then you inferre: all is not well, Would 'twere: whosoeuer thriue, I shall be sure Neuer to rise to my vn-hop'd desires: But Couzen, I shall tell you more anon; Meane time pray send my Lord Fernando to me, I couet much to speake with him. And see, He comes himselfe; I'le leaue you both together. The Duke is horst for Luca: how now Cooze, How prosper you in loue? As still I hop'd: My Lord you are vndone. Vndone I in what? Lost; and I feare your life is bought and sold; I'le tell you how: late in my Ladies chamber, As I by ehance lay slumbering on the mats, In comes the Lady Marquesse, and with her, Iulia and D'auolos; where sitting downe, Not doubting me, Madam (quoth D'auolas) We haue discouer'd now the neast of shame: In short, my Lord, (for you already know As much as they reported) there was told The circumstance of all your priuate loue And meetings with the Dutchesse; when at last False D'auolos concluded with an oath, Wee'll make (quoth he) his hart-strings crack for this. Speaking of me? Of you: I (quoth the Marquesse) Were not the Duke a baby, he would seeke Swift vengeance; for he knew it long agoe.