The Royal King and the Loyal Subject · chunk 31 of 39
Heywood, Thomas · published 1637 · first performed or written 1602 [1602-1618] (Annals) romance · Unknown unassigned nearest T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation · 519 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
Your Queen and wife crowned with a wreath of gold Of his own charge, with that this double dower Doubled again, and guarded with this train Of Gentlewomen according to her state, My Lord presents you: this his younger daughter, He hath bestowed a handmaid to your Queen, A place that may become her, were she child Unto your greatest Peer; had he had more, More had he sent; these worthless as they be, He humbly craves you would receive by me. His bounty hath no limit, but my Queen! Her bright aspect so much persuades with me, It charms me more than his humility. Arise in grace, and sweet, forget your wrong. My joys unspeakable can find no tongue To express my true heart's meaning. Beauteous Maid, You are our Sister, and that royal Title From all disgrace your freedom shall proclaim. I find your Grace the same my noble Father Hath still reported you; royal in all, By whom the virtuous rise, th' th'ignoble fall. I have not seen a Lady more complete; Her modesty and beauty, both are matchless. Am I a King, and must be exceeded still? Or shall a subject say that we can owe? His bounty we will equal, and exceed; We have power to better what in him's but well. Your free opinions Lords, is not this Lady The fairer of the twain? how durst our subject Than dally with us in that high design? With pardon of the Queen, she's paralleled By her fair Sister. Were my censure free, I durst say bettered. Were it put to me, I should avow she, not the Queen alone Excels in grace: but all that I have seen— Dost love her? As my honour, or my life. Her whom thou so much praisest, take to wise. You bless my youth. And strive to eternize me. Nor in this joy have I the meanest part, Now doth your Grace your inward love express To me, and mine. I never meant thee less: Thy Sister and thy daughter freely embrace, That next thee hath our kingdoms second place, How say you Lords, have we requited well Our subjects bounty? are we in his debt? Your Highness is in courtesy invincible. And bountiful beyond comparison. This must not hold, prevention out of hand, For if the martial rise, we stand not long. Our wits must then to work. They must of force. This is not that to which our fortunes trust. Let then our subject know his King hath power To vanquish him in all degrees of honour, And he must now confess himself excelled: With what can Heaven or Earth his want supply To equal this our latest courtesy? We have the day, we rise, and he must fall As one subdued. His Highness knows not all, One special gift he hath reserved in store, May happily make your Grace contend no more. No sir? think you your Master will yet yield? And leave to us the honour of the day? I wish him here but this last sight to see, To make him us acknowledge.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T9 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Your Queene and wise crown'd with a wreath of gold Of his owne charge, with that this double dower Doubled againe, and guarded with this traine Of Gentlewomen according to her state, My Lord presents you: this his younger daughter, He hath bestow'd a hand-maide to your Queene, A place that may become her, were she child Vnto your greatest Peere; had he had more, More had he sent; these worthlesse as they be, He humbly craves you would receive by me. His bounty hath no limit, but my Queene! Her bright aspect so much perswades with me, It charmes me more than his humility. Arise in grace, and sweet, forget your wrong. My joyes unspeakable can finde no tongue To expresse my true hearts meaning. Beauteous Maide, You are our Sister, and that royall Title From all disgrace your freedome shall proclaime. I finde your Grace the same my noble Father Hath still reported you; royall in all, By whom the vertuous rise, th ignoble fall. I have not seene a Lady more compleate; Her modesty and beauty, both are matchlesse. Am I a King, and must be exceeded still? Or shall a subject say that we can owe? His bounty we will equall, and exceed; We have power to better what in him's but well. Your free opinions Lords, is not this Lady The fairer of the twaine? how durst our subject Then dally with us in that high designe? With pardon of the Queene, shee's paralell'd By her faire Sister. Were my censure free, I durst say better'd. Were it put to me, I should avow she, not the Queene alone Excells in grace: but all that I have seene— Dost love her? As my honour, or my life. Her whom thou so much praisest, take to wise. You blesse my youth. And strive to eternize me. Nor in this joy have I the meanest part, Now doth your Grace your inward love expresse To me, and mine. I never meant thee lesse: Thy Sister and thy daughter freely imbrace, That next thee hath our Kingdomes second place, How say you Lords, have we requited well Our subjects bounty? are we in his debt? Your Highnesse is in courtesie invincible. And bountifull beyond comparison. This must not hold, prevention out of hand, For if the Martiall rise, we stand not long. Our wits must then to worke. They must of force. This is not that to which our fortunes trust. Let then our subject know his King hath power To vanquish him in all degrees of honour, And he must now confesse him selfe excell'd: With what can Heaven or Earth his want supply To equall this our latest courtesie? We have the day, we rise, and he must fall As one subdu'd. His Highnesse knows not all, One speciall gift he hath reserv'd in store, May happily make your Grace contend no more. No sir? thinke you your Master will yet yeeld? And leave to us the honour of the day? I wish him here but this last sight to see, To make him us acknowledge.