Suckling, John · published 1638 · first performed or written 1637 (Annals) not in BritDrama unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 518 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
Do you think so? Yes, I do think so. The juster Judges of our Actions, would they have been severe upon our weaknesses, would (sure) have made us stronger.— Fie! those tears a Bride upon the marriage day as properly might shed as thou, here widows do't and marry next day after: To such a funeral as this, there should be nothing common— we'll mourn him so, that those that are alive shall think themselves more buried far than he; and wish to have his grave, to find his Obsequies: but stay— the Body. Again! Sister— Aglaura— o speak once more, once more look out fair Soul.— she's gone.— Irrevocably gone.— And winging now the Air, like a glad bird broken from some cage: poor Bankrupt heart, when 'thad not wherewithal to pay to sad disaster all that was its due, it broke— would mine would do so too. My soul is now within me like a well mettled Hawk, on a blind Faulk'ners' fist, me thinks I feel it baiting to be gone: and yet I have a little foolish business here on earth; I will dispatch:— Let me be like my burden here, if I had not as lief kill two of the Blood-royal for him, as carry one of them; These Gentlemen of high actions are three times as heavy after death, as your private retired ones; look if he be not reduced to the state of a Courtier of the second form now? and cannot stand upon his own legs, nor do any thing without help, Hum.— And what's become of the great Prince, in prison as they call it now, the toy within us, that makes us talk, and laugh, and fight, I! why there's it, well, let him be what he will, and where he will, I'll make bold with the old Tenement here. Come Sir— come along:— All's fast too, here— They sleep to night i'their winding sheets I think, there's such a general quiet. Oh! here's light I warrant: for lust does take as little rest, as care, or age.— Courting her glass, I swear, fie! that's a flatterer Madam, in me you shall see trulier what you are. What make you up at this strange hour my Lord? My business is my boldness warrant, (Madam) and I could well afford t'have been without it now, had Heaven so pleased. 'Tis a sad Prologue, what follows in the name of virtue? The King. I: what of him? is well is he not? Yes.— If to be free from the great load we sweat and labour under, here on earth be to be well, he is. Why he's not dead, is he? Yes Madam, slain— and the Prince too. How? where? I know not, but dead they are. Dead! Yes Madam. Didst see them dead? As I see you alive. Dead! Yes, dead. Well, we must all die; the Sisters spin no cables for us mortals; theyare thread; and Time, and chance— trust me I could weep now, but watery distillations do but ill on graves, they make the lodging colder.
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)
Doe you thinke so? Yes, I doe thinke so. The juster Judges of our Actions, would they have beene severe upon our weaknesses, would (sure) have made us stronger.— Fie! those teares a Bride upon the marriage day as properly might shed as thou, here widowes doo't and marrie next day after: To such a funerall as this, there should be nothing common— Wee'll mourne him so, that those that are alive shall thinke themselves more buried sar than hee; and wish to have his grave, to finde his Obsequies: but stay—the Body. Agen! Sister—Aglaura— ô speake once more, once more looke out faire Soule.— Shee's gone.— Irrevocably gone.—And winging now the Aire, like a glad bird broken from some cage: poore Bankrupt heart, when 'thad not wherewithall to pay to sad disaster all that was its due, it broke—would mine would doe so too. My soule is now within mee like a well metled Hauke, on a blinde Faulk'ners fist, mee thinks I feele it baiting to be gone: and yet I have a little foolish businesse here on earth; I will dispatch:— Let mee bee like my burthen here, if I had not as lieve kill two of the Bloud-royall for him, as carrie one of them; These Gentlemen of high actions are three times as heavie after death, as your private retir'd ones; looke if hee be not reduc'd to the state of a Courtier of the second forme now? and cannot stand upon his owne legs, nor doe any thing without help, Hum.—And what's become of the great Prince, in prison as they call it now, the toy within us, that makes us talke, and laugh, and fight, I! why there's it, well, let him be what hee will, and where hee will, Ile make bold with the old Tenement here. Come Sir—come along:— All's fast too, here— They sleepe to night i'their winding sheets I thinke, there's such a generall quiet. Oh! here's light I warrant: for lust does take as little rest, as care, or age.— Courting her glasse, I sweare, fie! that's a flatterer Madam, in mee you shall see trulier what you are. What make you up at this strange houre my Lord? My businesse is my boldnesse warrant, (Madam) and I could well afford t'have beene without it now, had Heav'n so pleas'd. 'Tis a sad Prologue, what followes in the name of vertue? The King. I: what of him? is well is hee not? Yes.— If to be free from the great load wee sweat and labour under, here on earth be to be well, hee is. Why hee's not dead, is hee? Yes Madam, slaine—and the Prince too. How? where? I know not, but dead they are. Dead! Yes Madam. Didst see them dead? As I see you alive. Dead! Yes, dead. Well, wee must all die; the Sisters spin no cables for us mortalls; th'are thred; and Time, and chance— trust mee I could weep now, but watrie distillations doe but ill on graves, they make the lodging colder.