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 · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T19: virtue, fortune, virtues, honour, fame, vice, envy, world, pride, great.
Witness heaven, I cannot. Were I dissolved, and nothing else but soul. Be shrew my blood, but his resolves amaze me; Was ever such a justice in a subject▪ Of so much office left to his own swinge That left to law thus, and his Sovereign's wrath, Can stand clear spite of both? let reason rule it Before it come at law, a man so rare In one thing cannot in the rest be vulgar, And who sees you not in the broad highway The common dust up in your own eyes, beating In quest of riches, honours, offices, As hearty in show as most believe, And he that can use actions with the vulgar, Must needs embrace the same effects & cannot inform him Whatsoever he pretends, use them with such Free equity, as fits one just and real▪ Even in the eyes of men, nor stand at all parts So truly circular, so sound, and solid, But have his swellings out, his cracks and crannies, And therefore in this reason, before law Take you to her, lest you affect and flatter Yourself with mad opinions. I were mad Directly Sir, if I were yet to know Not the sure danger, but the certain ruin Of men shot into law from Kings bend brow, There being no dream from the most muddy brain Upon the foulest fancy, that can forge More horror in the shadows of mere fame, Then can some Lawyer in a man exposed To his interpretation by the King, But these grave toys I shall despise in death, And while I live will lay them open so (My innocence laid by them) that like foils They shall stick of my merits ten times more, And make your bounties nothing, for who gives And hits i'th' teeth, himself pays with the glory For which he gave, as being his end of giving, Not to crown merits, or do any good, And so no thankes is due but to his glory. 'tis brave I swear. No Sir, 'tis plain, and rude But true, and spotless, and where you object My hearty, and gross vulgar love of riches, Titles, and honours, I did never seek them For any love to them, but to that justice You ought to use in their due gift to merits, To show you royal, and most open handed, Not using for hands talons, pincers, grapples; In whose gripes, and upon whose gored point, Deserts hang sprawling out their virtuous limbs, Better and better. This your glory is My deserts wrought upon no wretched matter, But showed your royal palms as free, and moist, As Ida, all enchased with silver springs, And yet my merit still their equal sings. Sing till thou sigh thy soul out hence, and leave us. My person shall, my love and faith shall never. Perish thy love, and faith, and thee for ever; Whos's there? Let one go for the Chancellor.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T10 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Witneſſe heaven, I cannot. Were I diſſolv'd, and nothing elſe but ſoule. Be ſhrew my blood, but his reſolves amaze me; Was ever ſuch a Iuſtice in a ſubject▪ Of ſo much office left to his owne ſwinge That left to law thus, and his Soveraignes wrath, Could ſtand cleare ſpight of both? let reaſon rule it Before it come at law, a man ſo rare In one thing cannot in the reſt be vulgar, And who ſees you not in the broad high-way The common duſt up in your owne eyes, beating In queſt of riches, honours, offices, As heartily in ſhew as moſt beleeve, And he that can uſe actions with the vulgar, Muſt needes embrace the ſame effects & cannot informe him Whatſoever he pretends, uſe them with ſuch Free equitie, as fits one juſt and reall▪ Even in the eyes of men, nor ſtand at all parts So truly circular, ſo ſound, and ſolid, But have his ſwellings out, his crackes and crannies, And therefore in this reaſon, before law Take you to hr, leaſt you affect and flatter Your ſelfe with mad opinions. I were mad Directly Sir, if I were yet to know Not the ſure danger, but the certaine ruine Of men ſhot into law from Kings bent brow, There being no dreame from the moſt muddie braine Vpon the fouleſt facie, that can forge More horrour in the ſhaddowes of meere fame, Then can ſome Lawyer in a man expos'd To his interpretation by the King, But theſe grave toyes I ſhall deſpiſe in death, And while I live will lay them open ſo (My inocence laid by them) that like foiles They ſhall ſticke of my merits tenne times more, And make your bounties nothing, for who gives And hits ith teeth, himſelfe payes with the glory For which he gave, as being his end of giving, Not to crowne merits, or doe any good, And ſo no thankes is due but to his glory. Tis brave I ſweare. No Sir, tis plaine, and rude But true, and ſpotleſſe, and where you object My hearty, and groſſe vulgar love of riches, Titles, and honours, I did never ſeeke them For any love to them, but to that juſtice You ought to uſe in their due gift to merits, To ſhew you royall, and moſt open handed, Not uſing for hands talons, pincers, grapples; In whoſe gripes, and upon whoſe gord point, Deſerts hang ſprawling out their vertuous limbs, Better and better. This your glory is My deſerts wrought upon no wretched matter, But ſhew'd your royall palmes as free, and moiſt, As Ida, all enchaſt with ſilver ſprings, And yet my merit ſtill their equall ſings. Sing till thou ſigh thy ſoule out hence, and leave us. My perſon ſhall, my love and faith ſhall never. Periſh thy love, and faith, and thee for ever; Whoſe there? Let one goe for the Chancellor.