Shakespeare, William / Fletcher, John · published 1634 · first performed or written 1613 [1613-1614] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T37 Riches, poverty and covetousness · 473 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T37: wealth, riches, money, god, rich, poverty, men, learning, poor, ic.
Yet Cosen, Even from the bottom of these miseries From all that fortune can inflict upon us, I see two comforts rising, two mere blessings, If the gods please, to hold here a brave patience, And the enjoying of our griefs together. Whilst Palamon is with me, let me perish If I think this our prison. Certainly, 'tis a main goodness Cosen, that our fortunes Were twyned together; 'tis most true, two souls Put in two noble Bodies, let'em suffer The gall of hazard, so they grow together, Will never sink, they must not, say they could, A willing man dies sleeping, and all's done. Shall we make worthy uses of this place That all men hate so much? How gentle Cosen? Let's think this prison, holy sanctuary, To keep us from corruption of worse men, We are young and yet desire the ways of honour, That liberty and common Conversation The poison of pure spirits; might like women Woo us to wander from. What worthy blessing Can be but our Imaginations May make it ours? And here being thus together, We are an endless mine to one another; We are one another's wife, ever begotting New births of love; we are father, friends, acquaintance, We are in one another, Families, I am your heir, and you are mine: This place Is our Inheritance: no hard Oppressor Dare take this from us; here with a little patience We shall live long, and loving: No surfeits seek us: The hand of war hurts none here, nor the Seas Swallow their youth: were we at liberty, A wife might part us lawfully, or business, Quarrels consume us, Envy of ill men Crave our acquaintance, I might sicken Cosen, Where you should never know it, and so perish Without your noble hand to close mine eyes, Or prayers to the gods; a thousand chances Were we from hence, would feaver You have made me (I thank you Cosen Arcite) almost wanton With my Captivity: what a misery It is to live abroad? and every where: 'tis like a Beast me thinks: I find the Court here, I am sure a more content, and all those pleasures That woo the wills of men to vanity, I see through now, and am sufficient To tell the world, 'tis but a gaudy shadow, That old Time, as he passes by takes with him, What had we been old in the Court of Creon, Where sin is justice, lust, and ignorance, The virtues of the great ones: Cosen Arcite, Had not the loving gods found this place for us We had died as they do, ill old men, unwept, And had their Epitaphs, the people's Curses, Shall I say more? I would hear you still. Ye shall. Is there record of any two that loved Better than we do Arcite?
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Yet Cosen, Even from the bottom of these miseries From all that fortune can inflict upon us, I see two comforts rysing, two meere blessings, If the gods please, to hold here abrave patience, And the enjoying of our greefes together. Whilst Palamon is with me, let me perish If I thinke this our prison. Certeinly, Tis a maine goodnes Cosen, that our fortunes Were twyn'd together; tis most true, two soues Put in two noble Bodies, let'em suffer The gaule of hazard, so they grow together, Will never sincke, they must not, say they could, A willing man dies sleeping, and all's done. Shall we make worthy uses of this place That all men hate so much? How gentle Cosen? Let's thinke this prison, holy sanctuary, To keepe us from corruption of wors men, We are young and yet desire the waies of honour, That liberty and common Conversation The poyson of pure spirits; might like women Wooe us to wander from. What worthy blessing Can be but our Imaginations May make it ours? And heere being thus together, We are an endles mine to one another; We are one anothers wife, ever begotting New birthes of love; we are father, fends, acquaintance, We are in one another, Families, I am your heire, and you are mine: This place Is our Inheritance: no hard Oppressour Dare take this from us; here with a little patience We shall live long, and loving: No surfeits seeke us: The hand of war urts none here, nor the Seas Swallow their youth: wee we at liberty, A wife might part us lawfully, or busines, Quarrels consume us, Envy of men Crave our acquaintance, I might sken Cosen, Where you should never know it, and so perish Without your noble hand to close mine eies, Or prars to the gods; a thousand chaunces Were we from hence, would seaver . You have made me (I thanke you Cosen Arcit ) almost wanton With my Captivity: what a misery It is to live abroade? and every where: Tis like a Beast me thinkes: I finde the Court here, I am sure a more content, and all those pleasures That wooe the wils of men to vanity, I see through now, and am sufficient To tell the world, tis but a gaudy shaddow, That old Time, as he passes by takes with him, What had we bin old in the Court of Creon, Where sin is Iustice, lust, and ignorance, The vertues of the great ones: Cosen Arcite, Had not the loving gods found this place for us We had died as they doe, ill old men, unwept, And had their Epitaphes, the peoples Curses, Shall I say more? I would heare you still. Ye shall. Is there record of any two that lov'd Better then we doe Arcite?