The Royal King and the Loyal Subject · chunk 39 of 39
Heywood, Thomas · published 1637 · first performed or written 1602 [1602-1618] (Annals) romance · Unknown unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 516 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
Than sentence him oh let me perish rather; I plead for him that's both my son and Father. Oh make your mercy to this prisoner free. Father to us. And Husband unto me. Hence with these womanish clamours. Unto these Let me my Liege presume to add another, Behold him kneel that is your son and brother. Your Sister and your Daughter great King hear. Your Mother and your Daughter. Or like dear, Your Queen and Sister. Speak, what hath he done? whoever saw a father on a son Give sentence? or my Royal Lord, which rather Adds to your guilt, a son condemn the father? My Liege, command them hence, they but disturb The Traitor in his death. A traitor's he That dares so term him, Chester, we mean thee: Our best of subjects, with our height of grace We wed thee to us, in this strict embrace Thy virtues, bounties, envied courtesies; Thy courage, and thy constancy in death, Thy love and Loyalty to the end continued, More than their clamorous importunities Prevail with us: then as our best and greatest, Not to exceed, but equal thee in love, To end between us this Heroic strife, Accept what we most precious hold, thy Life. Which as your gift I'll keep, till Heaven & Nature Confine it hence, and always it expose Unto your love and service; I never loved it, Bnt since'twas yours, and by your gift now mine. I observe in thee The substance of all perfect Loyalty; In you save flattery, envy, hate, and pride Nothing, or ought to goodness that's allied; Resign those places that belong to him, Better than so borne noble, be unborn. Till you your hearts can fashion to your faces, We here suspend you from your styles and places. A royal doom. Once more from us receive Thy beauteous Bride, as we will hand our Queen: The Prince already is possessed of his. Nay Bonvile, as your Bridals were together, So follow in your rank, and by the style Of a Lord Baron, you are now no less If you dare take our word: Our Funerals thus we'll turn to feasting, and our blood to wines Of most choice taste pressed, from the purest Grape. Our noble martial, kinsman, and our friend, In our two virtues after times shall sing, A Loyal Subject, and a Royal King. THat this Play's old, 'tis true, but now if any Should for that cause despise it, we have many Reasons, both just and pregnant, to maintain Antiquity, and those too, not all vain. We know (and not long since) there was a time, Strong lines were not looked after, but if rhyme, O then 'twas excellent: who but believes, But Doublets with stuffed bellies and big sleeves, And those Trunk-hose, which now the age doth scorn, Were all in fashion, and with frequence worn; And what's now out of date, who is't can tell, But it may come in fashion, and suit well? With rigour therefore judge not, but with reason, Since what you read was fitted to that season.
seed 43: T14 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Than sentence him oh let me perish rather; I pleade for him that's both my sonne and Father. Oh make your mercy to this prisoner free. Father to us. And Husband unto me. Hence with thee womanish clamours. Vnto these Let me my Liege presume to adde another, Behold him kneele that is your sonne and brother. Your Sister and your Daughter great King heare. Your Mother and your Daughter. Or like deare, Your Queene and Sister. Speake, what hath he done? Who ever saw a father on a sonne Give sentence? or my Royall Lord, which rather Addes to your guilt, a sonne condemne the father? My Liege, command them hence, they but disturbe The Traytor in his death. A Traytor's he That dares so tearme him, Chester, we meane thee: Our best of subjects, with our height of grace We wedde thee to us, in this strict imbrace Thy vertues, bounties, envy'd courtesies; Thy courage, and thy constancy in death, Thy love and Loyalty to the end continued, More than their clamorous importunities Prevaile with us: then as our best and greatest, Not to exceed, but equall thee in love, To end betweene us this Heroick strife, Accept what we most pecioushold, thy Life. Which as your gift 'le keepe, till Heaven & Nature Confine it hence, and alwayes it expose Vnto your love and service; I never lov'd it, Bnt since'twas yours, and by your gift now mine. I observe in thee The substance of all perfect Loyalty; In you save flattery, envy, hate, and pride Nothing, or ought to goodnesse that's ally'd; Resigne those places that belong to him, Better than so borne noble, be unborne. Till you your hearts can fashion to your faces, We here suspend you from your stiles and places. A royall doome. Once more from us receive Thy beauteous Bride, as we will hand our Queene: The Prince already is possest of his. Nay Bonvile, as your Bridals were together, So follow in your ranke, and by the stile Of a Lord Baron, you are now no lesse If you dare take our word: Our Funerals thus Wee'le turne to feasting, and our blood to wines Of most choice taste prest, from the purest Grape. Our noble Martiall, kinsman, and our friend, In our two vertues after times shall sing, A Loyall Subject, and a Royall King. THat this Play's old, 'tis true, but now if any Should for that cause despise it, we have many Reasons, both just and pregnant, to maintaine Antiquity, and those too, not al vaine. We know (and not long since) there was a time, Strong lines were not lookt after, but if rime, Othen 'twas excellent: who but beleeves, But Doublets with stuft bellies and bigge sleeves, And those Trunke-hose, which now the age doth scorn, Were all in fashion, and with frequence worne; And what's now out of date, who is't can tell, But it may come in fashion, and sute well? With rigour therefore judge not, but with reason, Since what you read was fitted to that season.