Chapman, George / Shirley, James · published 1639 · first performed or written 1612 [1611-1613; revised by Shirley and licensed for stage, Apr 29, 1635] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T19 Virtue, Fortune and Vice as abstractions · 488 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T19: virtue, fortune, virtues, honour, fame, vice, envy, world, pride, great.
I prithee Philip be not so severe To him I favour, 'tis an argument That may serve one day to avail yourself, Nor Does it square with your so gentle nature, To give such fires of envy to your blood; For howsoever out of love to justice, Your jealousy of that doth so incense you, Yet they that censure it will say 'tis envy. I serve not you for them, but for yourself, And that good in your Rule, that justice does you, And care not this what others say, so you Please but to do me right for what you know. You will not do yourself right, why should I Exceed you to yourself? Myself am nothing Compared to what I seek, 'tis justice only The fount and flood, both of your strength and kingdoms. But who knows not, that extreme justice is (by all ruled laws) the extreme of injury, And must to you be so, the persons that Your passionate heat calls into question Are great, and many, and may wrong in you Your rights of kind, and dignities of fortune, And I advanced you not to heap on you Honours, and fortunes, that by strong hand now Held up, and over you, when heaven takes off That powerful hand' should thunder on your head, And after you crush your surviving seeds. Sir, your regards to both are great, and sacred, But if the innocence, and right that raised me And means for mine, can find no friend hereafter Of him that ever lives, and ever seconds All King's just bounties with defence, and refuge In just men's razes, let my fabric ruin, My stock want sap, my branches by the root Be ●orne to death, and swept with whirlwinds out. For my love no relenting. No my liege, 'tis for your love, and right that I stand out. Be better yet advised. I cannot Sir Should any Oracle become my counsel, For that I stand not out, thus of set will, Or pride of any singular conceit, My ennemmies, and the world may clearly know, I taste no sweets to drown in others gall, And to affect in that which makes me loathed, To leave myself and mine exposed to all The dangers you proposed, my purchased honours, And all my fortunes in an instant lost, That money, cares, and pains, and years have gathered, How mad were I to rave thus in my wounds, Unless my known health felt in these forced issues Were sound, and fit, and that I did not know By most true proofs, that to become sincere With all men's hates, doth far excëede their loves, To be as they are, mixtures of corruption? And that those envies that I see pursue me Of all true actions are the natural consequents Which being my object, and my resolute choice Not for my good but yours, I will have justice.
seed 43: T62 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I prethee Philip be not ſo ſevere To him I favour, tis an argument That may ſerve one day to availe your ſelfe, Nor Does it ſquare with your ſo gentle nature, To give ſuch fires of envie to your bloud; For howſoeuer out of love to Iuſtice, Your Iealouſie of that doth ſo incenſe you, Yet they that cenſure it will ſay tis envy. I ſerve not you for them, but for your ſelfe, And that good in your Rule, that Iuſtice does you, And care not this what others ſay, ſo you Pleaſe but to doe me right for what you know. You will not doe your ſelfe right, why ſhould I Exceede you to your ſelfe? My ſelfe am nothing Compar'd to what I ſeeke, tis juſtice onely The fount and flood, both of your ſtrength and kingdomes. But who knowes not, that extreame juſtice is (by all ruld lawes) the extreame of injurie, And muſt to you be ſo, the perſons that Your paſſionate heate calls into queſtion Are great, and many, and may wrong in you Your rights of kinde, and dignities of fortune, And I advanc'd you not to heape on you Honours, and fortunes, that by ſtrong hand now Held up, and over you, when heaven takes off That powerfull hand' ſhould thunder on your head, And after you cruſh your ſurviving ſeedes. Sir, your regards to both are great, and ſacred, But if the innocence, and right that rais'd me And meanes for mine, can finde no friend hereafter Of him that ever lives, and ever ſeconds All Kings juſt bounties with defence, and refuge In juſt mens races, let my fabricke ruine, My ſtocke want ſap, my branches by the roote Be orne to death, and ſwept with whirlewindes out. For my love no relenting. No my leige, Tis for your love, and right that I ſtand out. Be better yet advis'd. I cannot Sir Should any Oracle become my counſell, For that I ſtand not out, thus of ſet will, Or pride of any ſingular conceite, My ēnēmies, and the world may clearely know, I taſte no ſweetes to drowne in others gall, And to affect in that which makes me lothed, To leave my ſelfe and mine expos'd to all The dangers you propos'd, my purchas'd honours, And all my fortunes in an inſtant loſt, That mony, cares, and paines, and yeares have gather'd, How mad were I to rave thus in my wounds, Vnleſſe my knowne health felt in theſe forc'd iſſues Were ſound, and fit, and that I did not know By moſt true proofes, that to become ſincere With all mens hates, doth farre excëede their loves, To be as they are, mixtures of corruption? And that thoſe envies that I ſee purſue me Of all true actions are the naturall conſequents Which being my object, and my reſolute choiſe Not for my good but yours, I will have juſtice.