Shirley, James · published 1635 · first performed or written 1631 [licensed for stage, May 4] (Annals) tragedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.84 · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
You won't kill him? I am not of your mind. I know you cannot. You are not studied so perfect in His destiny I hope; I will endeavour— To kill your Prince? What here? No, in his Chamber. Shall it be read in Stories of our Florence, Sciarrha first did stain his family With such a Treason? Was he not invited? Yes, by his lust. And in your crowned tables, And Hospitality will you murder him? Yes, and the reason wherefore he was murdered, Shall justify the deed to all posterity, He came to wrong my Sister. Wanton heat, Let youthful blood excuse him. So it must. Mistake me not, oh think but who he is, The Duke, that word must needs awake your piety. How will good men in this remembrance Abhor your cruelty, that send to hell One with the weight of all his sins upon him. It is too late to cool with argument My incensed blood, will you go dally with him, And let him board your pinnace: I ha' gone So far in promise, if you clasp not with him, It will be dangerous if he outlive This night. I ha' thought on't, send him to my bed. Ha? Do not question what I purpose, heaven Witness to my chaste thoughts. Wot thou trust him? I will do much sir, to preserve his life, And your innocence: be not you suspectful At the worst, you can but respite your revenge. Dost thou not fear unhappy Luenesse chance, Or wretched Philomel's dishonour? No: Give me his life, and send your wanton to me; I'll to my Chamber, fear me not Sciarrha, Have not one thought so bad, I sha' not prosper; Virgins in heaven will suffer with me. Trust her? 'tis but deferring of my justice, She won't kill him sure: draw on her soul The guilt she hates in mine, if she do yield To the hot encounter: ha? 'twill be just, That both their hearts weep blood, to purge their lust. My poniard? I've no black intent To stain't with any blood. Take it, I know, thou art my virtuous Sister, It were wickedness to doubt thy purpose Or the event. Now leave me. Thou hast a guard of Angels. They are coming. Look, there she is sir, you know how to undress her. Dearest Sciarrha. To your recreation, here I'll obscure myself, Florio? 'tis well. Lady you know me? Yes my Prince. I was so, Till I saw thee, but I gave up that title, A conquest to thy beauty, which among Her other wonders hath created me A subject and servant, and I shall Be happier to be received yours by One of those names then Duke of Tuscany. Oh take yourself again, use your greatness To make the hearts of Florence bow to you, And pay their duties thus. Rise Amidea, And since you have given my power back, it will Become me to command. And me to obey.
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)
You wonot kill him? I am not of your minde. I know you cannot. You are not studied so perfect in His destiny I hope; I will endeavour— To kill your Prince? What here? No, in his Chamber. Shall it be read in Stories of our Florenoe, Sciarrha first did staine his family With such a Treason? Was he not invited? Yes, by his lust. And in your crowned tables, And Hospitality will you murder him? Yes, and the reason wherefore he was murderd, Shall justifie the deed to all posterity, He came to wrong my Sister. Wanton heate, Let youthfull blood excuse him. So it must. Mistake me not, oh thinke but who he is, The Duke, that word must needs awake your piety. How will good men in this remembrance Abhorre your cruelty, that send to hell One with the weight of all his sinnes upon him. It is too late to coole with argument My incensed blood, will you goe dally with him, And let him bord your pinace: I hagon So farre in promise, if you claspe not with him, It will be dangerous if he out-live This night. I ha thought on't, send him to my bed. Ha? Doe not question what I purpose, heaven Witnesse to my chast thoughts. Wot thou trust him? I will doe much sir, to preserve his life, And your innocence: be not you suspectfull▪ At the worst, you can but respite your revenge. Dost thou not feare unhappy Luenesse chance, Or wretched Philomels dishonour? No: Give me his life, and send your wanton to me; Ile to my Chamber, feare me not Sciarrha, Have not one thought so bad, I sha' not prosper; Virgins n heaven will suffer with me. Trust her? Tis but deferring of my justice, Shee wonot kill him sure: draw on her soule The guilt shee hates in mine, if shee doe yeeld To the hot encounter: ha? twill be just, That both their hearts weepe blood▪ to purge their lust. My Ponyard? I've no blacke intent To stain't with any blood. Take it, I know, thou art my vertuous Sister, It were wickednesse to doubt thy purpose Or the event. Now leave me. Thou hast a guard of Angels. They are comming. Looke, there she is sir, you know how to undresse her. Dearest Sciarrha. To your recreation, here Ile obscure my selfe, Florio? tis well. Lady you know me? Yes my Prince. I was so, Till I saw thee, but I gave up that title, A conquest to thy beauty, which among Her other wonders hath created me A subject and servant, and I shall Be happier to be receiv'd yours by One of those names then Duke of Tuscany. Oh take your selfe agen, use your greatnes To make the hearts of Florence bow to you, And pay their duties thus. Rise Amidea, And since you have given my power backe, it will Become me to command. And me to obey.