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 0.77 · 461 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Shall we sweat for the people? lose our breath To get their fame? I'll have it given out The Duke did kill thy sister. Excellent. Having first ravished her, he cannot be Too hateful; it will dull the examination Of his own death, or if that come to question— What if I say, I killed him in revenge Of Amidea? they will pity me. Beside, 'twill be in your power to pardon Me altogether. Most discreetly thought on. The Devil won't leave us o'the sudden. Rare wit: How hastily he climbs the the precipice, From whence one fillip topples him to ruin: we two shall live like brothers. stay we two— now I consider better, I have no mind to live at all— & you sha'not, I'll give you proof, if you but make a noise, You gallop to the Devil. I'm betrayed. To death inevitable, brother be you Spectator only. This is somewhat noble. Thank me not Lorenzo, I'll not engage His innocence to blood, thy hands are white, Preserve 'em Florio, and unless my arms Grow feeble, do not interpose thy sword I charǵe thee. None to assist me? help Petruchio, help. Reach thy jaws wider villain, cry out murder, Treason, any thing; hold— oh. Will you not fall Colosus? Are not you hurt? I know not. Ha? yes he has pricked me somewhere But I'll make sure of him; now must I follow: I'll fight with him i'th' tother world— thy hand, Florio. Farewell. he's dead too: 'tis in vain for me to fly Within Break open the doors. You sha'not need. Disarm him. Lorenzo, and Sciarrha slain? Where is the Duke? Look here my Lords. What Traitor? See Amidea murdered too. I tremble, here is a heap of Tragedies. we must have an account from Florio. He can inform you best that brought you hither. Lay hands upon Petruchio, disarm him. What blood is that upon his sword? 'tis fresh. I'm caught. To tortures with him. Spare your fury, know 'twas the best blood in Florence, I must quit Young Florio; Lorenzo, and myself, Are only guilty of the PRINCE's death. inhuman traitors? But who killed Amidea? The Duke's lust: There was no other way to save her honour, My brother has revenged it here, but fate, Denied him triumph. I never heard Such killing stories, but 'tis meet, we first Settle the state, Cosmo you are the next Of blood to challenge Florence. Pray defer That till the morning, drag that murderer To prison: Florio, you must not expect Your liberty, till all things be examined. Lorenzo, now I am above thy malice, And will make satisfaction to Oriana. 'tis a sad night my Lords, by these you see There is no stay in proud mortality.
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)
Shall wee sweat for the people? loose our breath To get their fame? Ile have it given out The Duke did kill thy sister. Excellent. Havingfirst ravish'd her, he cannot bee Too hatefull; it will dull the examination Of his owne death, or if that come to question— What if I say, I kild him in revenge Of Amidea? they will pittie mee. Beside, 'twil be in your power to pardon Mee altogether. Most descreetely thought on. The Divell wonot leave us o'the suddaine. Rare wit: How hastily hee climbs the the precipice, From whence one Fillup topples him to ruine: Wee two shall live like brothers. stay wee two—now I consider better, I have no minde to live at all—& you shanot, Ile give you proofe, if you but make a noise, You gallop to the Divell. I'me betraid. To death inevitable, brother be you Spectator onely. This is somewhat noble. Thanke mee not Lorenzo, Ile not engage His innocence to blood, thy hands are white, Preserve e'm Florio, and unlesse my arm Grow feeble, doe not interpose thy sword I charǵe thee. None to assist mee? helpe Petruchio, helpe. Reach thy jawes wider villaine, cry out murder, Treason, any thing; hold—oh. Will you not fall Colosus? Are not you hurt? I know not. Ha? yes he has prick'd me somewhere But Ile make sure of him; now must I follow: Ile fight with him i'th tother world—thy hand, Florio. Farewell. Hees dead too: tis in vaine for me to fly Within Breake open the dores▪ You shanot neede. Disarme him. Lorenzo, and Sciarrha slaine? Where is the Duke? Looke heere my Lords. What Traitor? See Amidea murderd too. I tremble, heere is a heape of Tragedies. Wee must have an account from Florio. He can informe you best that brought you hither. Lay hands upon Petruchio, disarme him. What blood is that upon his sword? tis fresh. I'me caught. To tortures with him. Spare your furie▪ know Twas the best blood in Florence, I must quit Young Florio; Lorenzo, and my selfe, Are onely guilty of the princes death. Inhumane traitors? But who kild Amidea? The Dukes lust: There was no other way to save her honor, My brother has revengd it heere, but fate, Denyde him triumph. I never heard Such killing stories, but tis meet, wee first Settle the state, Coso you are the next Of blood to challenge Florence. Pray deferre That till the morning, drag that murderer To prison: Florio, you must not expect Your liberty, til all things be exam'nd. Lorenzo, now I am above thy malice, And will make satisfaction to Oriana. Tis a sad night my Lords, by these you see There is no stay in proud mortality.