Suckling, John · published 1638 · first performed or written 1637 (Annals) not in BritDrama unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
Weep'st thou for him, fond Prodigal? dost know on whom thou spendest thy tears? this is the man to whom we owe our ills; the false Zorannes' disguised, not lost; but kept alive, by some incensed Power, to punish Persia thus: He would have killed me too, but Heaven was just, and furnished me with means, to make him pay this score of villainy, ere he could do more. Were you his murderer then?— Ah me! the Queen.— How do you Madam? Well,— but I was better, and shall— Oh! she is gone for ever. What have we here? a Churchyard? nothing but silence, and grave? Oh! here has been (my Lords) the blackest night the Persian world e'er knew, the King and Prince are not themselves exempt from this arrest; but pale and cold, as these, have measured out their lengths. Impossible! which way? Of that we are as ignorant as you: for while the Queen was telling of the Story, an unknown villain here has hurt her so, that like a sickly Taper, she but made one flash, and so expired: Here he is, but no confession. Torture must force him then: though 'twill indeed, but weakly satisfy to know now they are dead, how they did die. Come take the bodies up, and let us all go drown ourselves in tears, this massacre has left so torn a state, that 'twill be policy as well as debt, to weep till we are blind, For who would see the miseries behind? Our Play is done, and yours doth now begin: What different Fancies, people now are in? How strange, and odd a ●…ingle it would make, If ére they rise; ●…ere possible to take All votes.— But as when an authentic Watch is shown, Each man winds up, and rectifies his own, So in our very judgements; first there sits A grave Grand jury on it of Town-wits; And they give up their verdict; then again The other jury of the Court comes in (And that's of life and death) for each man sees That oft condemns, what th'other jury frees: Some three days hence, the Ladies of the Town Will come to have a judgement of their own: And after them, their servants; then the City, For that is modest, and is still last witty. 'Twill be a week at least yet ere they have Resolved to let it live, or give't a grave: Such difficulty, there is to unite Opinion; or bring it to be right. SIR: THat th'abusing of your ea●…'s a crime, Above th'excuse any six lines in Rhyme Can make, the Poet knows: I am but sent T'entreat he may not be a Precedent, For he does think that in this place there he Many have done't as much and more than he; But here's, he says, the difference of the Fates, He begs a Pardon after't, they Estates.
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)
Weep'st thou for him, fond Prodigall? do'st know on whom thou spend'st thy teares? this is the man to whom wee owe our ills; the false Zorannes disguis'd, not lost; but kept alive, by some incensed Power, to punish Persia thus: Hee would have kill'd mee too, but Heav'n was just, and furnisht mee with meanes, to make him pay this score of villanie, ere hee could doe more. Were you his murth'rer then?— Ah mee! the Queene.— How doe you Madam? Well,—but I was better, and shall— Oh! shee is gone for ever. What have wee here? a Church-yard? nothing but silence, and grave? Oh! here has been (my Lords) the blackest night the Persian world e're knew, the King and Prince are not themselves exempt from this arrest; but pale and cold, as these, have measured out their lengths. Impossible! which way? Of that wee are as ignorant as you: for while the Queene was telling of the Storie, an unknowne villaine here has hurt her so, that like a sickly Taper, shee but made one flash, and so expir'd: Here hee is, but no confession. Torture must force him then: though 'twill indeed, but weakly satisfie to know now they are dead, how they did die. Come take the bodies up, and let us all goe drowne our selves in teares, this massacre has left so torne a state, that 'twill be policie as well as debt, to weep till wee are blinde, For who would see the miseries behinde? OVr Play is done, and yours doth now begin: What different Fancies, people now are in? How strange, and odd a ingle it would make, If ére they rise; ere possible to take All votes.— But as when an authentique Watch is showne, Each man windes up, and rectifies his owne, So in our verie Iudgements; first there sits A grave Grand Iurie on it of Towne-wits; And they give up their verdict; then agin The other Iurie of the Court comes in (And that's of life and death) for each man sees That oft condemnes, what th'other Iurie frees: Some three dayes hence, the Ladies of the Towne Will come to have a Iudgement of their owne: And after them, their servants; then the Citie, For that is modest, and is still last wittie. 'Twill be a weeke at least yet e're they have Resolv'd to let i live, or give't a grave: Such difficultie, there is to unit Opinion; or bring it to be right. SIR: THat th'abusing of your ea's a crime, Above th'excuse any six lines in Rhime Can make, the Poet knowes: I am but sent T'intreat hee may not be a President, For hee does thinke that in this place there hee Many have done't as much and more than hee; But here's, hee sayes, the difference of the Fates, Hee begs a Pardon after't, they Estates.