Shirley, James · published 1638 · first performed or written 1637 [licensed for stage, Apr 23, 1638] (Annals) not in BritDrama · St. Werburgh Street, Dublin T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.81 · 475 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
The King; thou lov'st the Duke. he's not concerned In my affection; I have no thought Of any Prince alive, but your own brother; Such an example of love's folly have My stars decreed me; yet if pride and duty May in one action meet and be good friends, Both shall assist my last breath which shall offer Humbly the King, and his affairs to heaven This he will pardon, shall he know it done By me more sit to die then live for him. Alas poor Domitilla; she is wounded As deep as I; rise and forgive my jealousy; I cannot promise thee to be my sister, But I will love thee like one; let us call A counsel of our thoughts, and mingle sorrows; Yet when we have done all, and tired our breath, There is no cure for love, but love or death. How will Montalto counsel me; I am Wild with the repetition. The Duke Lay such a black aspersion on your sister; 'tis blasphemy to honour; but as soon He may pollute the Sun beams, or defile The dew of heaven ere it approach the earth Make us believe the rocks of ice do flame, And may endanger the north star; my wonder Will make me reason lest it throws a poison On your whole family, a stain so deep And so prodigious, all the blood within His Dukedom won't purge it; could he find No excuse for his revolt to Domitilla, But blasting the sweet Princess. Domitilla Whom I must tell you I already have Prepared to be thy bride, as an addition To the reward I owe thy services. Prepared for me? you are too bountiful In you I kneel both to my king and father; But my aspiring will be satisfied To be your servant still: in your grace I Enjoy the burn my heart affects; let me Grow old with duties here, and not translate My affection till my weary soul throw off The burden of my dust. No more: in this One act, I'll build a monument of my love To thee, and my revenge upon the Duke; Thou instantly shalt marry Domitilla; Her Beauty, Blood and Fortune will deserve thee. I am your creature, but how this may inflame The Duke. 'tis meant so. But your sister's fame Were worth your first care; this may be done With more access of joy when she is righted: You have been pleased to hear my counsel Sir And not repented. What wouldst thou advise me? The Duke is young and apt to err; you cannot Preserve your hospitable Laws to affront Him openly, nor will it be thought prudence To let lose these suspicions to the descant Of people's tongues; th'air is dangerous; Let me search the Duke's bosom, for the spring Of this dishonour. How?
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)
The King; thou lov'st the Duke. Hee's not concern'd In my affection; I have no thought Of any Prince alive, but your owne brother; Such an example of loves folly have My starres decreed me; yet if pride and duty May in one action meete and be good friends, Both shall assist my last breath which shall offer Humbly the King, and his affaires to heaven This he will pardon, shall he know it done By me more sit to die then live for him. Alas poore Domitilla; shee is wounded As deepe as I; rise and forgive my jealousie; I cannot promise thee to be my sister, But I will love thee like one; let us call A counsell of our thoughts, and mingle sorrowes; Yet when we have done all, and tyr'd our breath, There is no cure for love, but love or death. How will Montalto counsell me; I am Wilde with the repetition. The Duke Lay such a blacke aspersion on your sister; Tis blasphemy to honour; but as soone He may pollute the Sunne beames, or deile▪ The dew of heaven ere it approach the earth Make us beleeve the rockes of ice doe flame, And may indanger the north starre; my wonder Will make me reasonlesseit throwes a poyson On your whole family, a staine so deepe And so prodigious, all the blood within His Dukedome wo'not purge it; could he finde No excuse for his revolt to Domitilla, But blasting the sweet Princesse. Domitilla Whom I must tell you I already have Prepar'd to be thy bride, as an addition To the reward I owe thy services. Prepard for me? you are too bountifull In you I kneele both to my king and father; But my aspiring will be satisfied To be your servant still: in your grace I Injoy the bride my heart affects; let me Grow old with duties here, and not translate My affection till my weary soule throw off The burden of my dust. No more: in this One act, Ile build a monument of my love To thee, and my revenge upon the Duke; Thou instantly shalt marry Domitilla; Her Beauty, Blood and Fortune will deserve thee. I am your creature▪ but how this may inflame▪ The Duke. Tis meant so. But your sisters fame Were worth your first care; this may be done With more accesse of joy when shee is righted: You have beene pleasd to heare my counsell Sir And not repented. What would'st thou advise me? The Duke is young and apt to erre; you cannot Preserve your hospitable Lawes to affront Him openly, nor will it be thought prudence To let loose these suspitions to the descant Of peoples tongues; th'aire is dangerous; Let me search the Dukes bosome, for the spring Of this dishonour. How?