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 0.83 · 488 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
With whom? With me, I should ha' killed you sir This night, and every minute he expects To hear you numbered with the dead, I can Demonstrate this, your pardon, but in truth, The injuries you meant us were severe, And he with as much violence did urge 'em To your destruction, but your piety Hath charmed my purpose, and I look upon you With new obedience. Possible. we won't shift the scene till you believe it, Florio, entreat my Lord Lorenzo hither, Step but but behind the arras, and your ear Shall tell you who's the greatest Traitor living, Observe but when I tell him, you are slain, How he'll rejoice, and call me Florence great Preserver, bless my arm that in your blood, Hath given our groaning state a liberty: Then trust Sciarrha, but observe, I here 'em Whom talked he too? 'tis done— What good Sciarrha? The Duke is dead. we are not left so miserable, Heaven is more kind to Florence. With this hand I made a passage for his soul. Defend Omnipotence, what murdered? and by noble Sciarrha? how my ear abuses me! Did not we plot it too? How we? collect, I fear you are not well: pray tell me why You talk thus? where's the Duke? he hath a guard, An army of heaven about him; who in Florence, Dares be so black a devil to attempt His death. This is fine cunning, why that devil is Lorenzo, if he dares deny it, we are in private, You need appear no stranger to that's done By your direction. I in the practice? Then let me creep into the earth, and rise A monster to affright mankind, Sciarrha, I must abhor thee for it, oh my Prince! My dearest kinsman, may thy hand rot off, Treason, treason. Then my sword shall fetch another witness in thy heart Hold. Tush, let him come, My royal Lord, nay, let him kill me now, I've so much joy and peace about me, 'twere A sin to wish my life beyond this minute. Put up I say. My Lord, we are both cozened: That very smile's a Traitor. Come, be calm: You are too passionate Sciarrha, and Mistook Lorenzo. But I hold him noble: I see he made this trial of my faith, And I forgive him. Ye shall be friends, you shall I say. The Duke— Where's the Duke? My Lord, we are blessed to see you safe, report Hath frighted all the City with your death: People forsake their beds, and seeking how To be informed, increase the wretched tumult. There's nothing but confusion: all men tremble As if some general fire invaded Florence. Have comfort sir. What's to be done? Depazzi has remembered, My Lord there is no safety for the State, Unless you personally appease 'em. How? I hope they'll tear him, would he were dead any way. He hath counselled well.
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)
With whom? With mee, I should ha kild you sir This night, and every mineut hee expects To heare you numberd with the dead, I can Demonstrate this, your pardon, but in truth, The injuries you meant us were severe, And he with as much violence did urge em To your destruction, but your pietie Hath charm'd my purpose, and I looke uppon you With new obedience. Possible. Wee wonot shift the scene till you beleeve it, Florio, intreate my Lord Lorenzo hither, Step but but behinde the arras, and your eare Shall tell you who's the greatest Traitor living, Observe but when I tell him, you are slaine, How heele rejoice, and call mee Florence great Preserver, blesse my arme that in your blood, Hath given our groning state a libertie: Then trust Sciarrha, but obserue, I heere e'm Whom talkd he too? Tis done— What good Sciarrha? The Duke is dead. Wee are not left so miserable, Heaven is more kinde to Florence. With this hand I made a passage for his soule. Defend Omnipotence, what murder'd? and by noble Sciarrha? how my eare abuses me! Did not wee plot it too? How wee? collect, I feare you are not well: pray tell mee why You talke thus? wher's the Duke? he hath a guard, An armie of heaven about him; who in Florence, Dares be so blacke a divell to attempt His death. This is fine eunning, why that diuell is Lorenzo, if hee dars deny it, wee are in private, You need appeare no stranger to that's done By your direction. I in the practice? Then let me creepe into the earth, and rise A monster to affright man-kinde, Sciarrha, I must abhorre thee for it, oh my Prince! My dearest kinsman, may thy hand rot off, Treason, treason. Then my sword shall fetch another witnesse in thy heart Hold. Tush, let him come, My royall Lord, nay, let him kill mee now, Ive so much joy and peace about mee, twere A sinne to wish my life beyond this minute. Put up I say. My Lord, we are both cozend: That very smile's a Traitor. Come, be calme: You are too passionate Sciarrha, and Mistooke Lorenzo. But I hold him noble: I see hee made this triall of my faith, And I forgive him. Yee shall be friends, you shall I say. The Duke— Where's the Duke? My Lord, we are blest to see you safe, report Hath frighted all the Cittie with your death: People forsake their beds, and seeking how To be inform'd, increase the wretched tumult. There's nothing but confusion: all men tremble As if some generall fire invaded Florence. Have comfort sir. Whats to be done? Depazzi has remembred, My Lord there is no safety for the State, Unlesse you personally appease 'em. How? I hope theile teare him, would he were dead any way. He hath counselld well.