Rutter, Joseph / Corneille, Pierre · published 1637 · first performed or written 1637 [1637-1638] (Annals) not in BritDrama · before the Court unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
But will you, Madam, Believe the counsel of a faithful friend. Not to obey you were a sin unpardonable. Though yesterday pursuing your revenge, You did so much that all the Court admired Your height of spirit, and bewailed your love; Yet the same way is not now to be taken. Roderigo's now the only hope and stay Of all Castille. The terror of the moor. His valour has restored us what before It took away, in him your father seems To live again, and in a word pursuing His death, you go about the public ruin, What? to revenge a father, is it lawful To give your Country up to its Enemies? And are we to be punished for his fault? I say not this, that I would have you marry The man y'are bound to prosecute. I'd rather You should avoid that envy, and deprive Him of your love, but not us of his life. Ah, Madam, give my spirit it's full course, Though my heart make a faction against me, Though he be loved by the King, adored by th' people, Though he be compassed with the stoutest Soldiers, He overwhelm his Laurel, with my Cypress. I must confess, it is a mark of spirit To prosecute the life you loved so dearly, Yet I should think, it were more noble fat To give up to the public interest The private ones of blood. For credit me, Cimena, 'tis enough, to leave to love him: Banish him from your heart and he will find A heavy punishment. Your country's good Requires this, beside you must not think The King should grant you your request. He may. Refuse me if he please, but I must speak. Consider well, Cimena, what it is You go about, and think of it at leisure. THou brave descendent of a noble race, Who have been still supporters of my kingdom, (Who's valour the first proof of thine has equalled) My power is too narrow for thy merit. To free thy Country of so rude a foe As are the Moores, before myself could give Order for their repulse, is such an act As flies beyond all thought of recompense. But the two captived Kings which thou hast taken, Shall give thee thy reward, they both have named thee Their CID before me; which in their tongue sounds As much as Lord in ours, and this fair title I will not envy thee; from henceforth be Their CID, that at thy name the Moores may tremble. And that my Subjects hearing it may know Thy value, and how much to thee I owe. Let not your Majesty confound your servant With too much shame, to set so high a prize Upon so poor a service. I must blush To see such honour done so slender merit. My debt to you, Sir, and my Country is The blood I live by, and the air I breathe; And when I lose 'em for so fair an object, I do, Sir, but the duty of a Subject.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
But will you, Madam, Beleeve the counſell of a faithfull friend. Not to obey you were a ſin unpardonable. Though yeſterday purfuing your revenge, You did ſo much that all the Court admir'd Your height of ſpirit, and bewaild your love; Yet the ſame way is not now to be taken. Roderigo's now the onely hope and ſtay Of all Caſtile. The terrour of the Mores. His valour has reſtor'd us what before It tooke away, in him your father ſeemes To live againe, and in a word purſuing His death, you goe about the publicke ruine, What? to revenge a father, is it lawfull To give your Country up to its Enemies? And are we to be puniſh'd for his fault? I ſay not this, that I would have you marry The man y' are bound to proſecute. I'de rather You ſhould avoid that envy, and deprive Him of your love, but not us of his life. Ah, Madam, give my ſpirit its full courſe, Though my heart make a faction againſt me, Though he be lov'd by the King, ador'd by th' people, Though he be compaſs'd with the ſtouteſt Souldiers, He overwhelme his Laurell, with my Cipreſſe. I muſt confeſſe, it is a marke of ſpirit To proſecute the life you lov'd ſo dearely, Yet I ſhould thinke, it were more noble fat To give up to the publick intereſt The private ones of bloud. For credit me, Cimena, 'tis enough, to leave to love him: Baniſh him from your heart and he will find A heavy puniſhment. Your Countries good Requires this, beſides you muſt not thinke The King ſhould grant you your requeſt. He may. Refuſe me if he pleaſe, but I muſt ſpeake. Conſider well, Cimena, what it is You goe about, and thinke of it at leaſure. THou brave deſcendent of a noble race, Who have been ſtill ſupporters of my kingdome, (Who's valour the firſt proofe of thine has equall'd) My power is too narrow for thy merit. To free thy Country of ſo rude a foe As are the Moores, before my ſelfe could give Order for their repulſe, is ſuch an act As flies beyond all thought of recompence. But the two captiv'd Kings which thou haſt taken, Shall give thee thy reward, they both have nam'd thee Their CID before me; which in their tongue ſounds As much as Lord in ours, and this faire title I will not envy thee; from henceforth be Their CID, that at thy name the Moores may tremble. And that my Subjects hearing it may know Thy value, and how much to thee I owe. Let not your Majeſty confound your ſervant With too much ſhame, to ſet ſo high a priſe Upon ſo poore a ſervice. I muſt bluſh To ſee ſuch honour done ſo ſlender merit. My debt to you, Sir, and my Country is The bloud I live by, and the aire I breath; And when I loſe 'um for ſo faire an object, I doe, Sir, but the duty of a Subject.