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 T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 487 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
No more, Take heed you banish not yourself, be wise, And let not too much zeal devour your reason, Your Admiral Is condemned Sir? Ha'? strange! no matter, Leave us, a great man I see may be As soon dispatched, as a common subject▪ No mercy then for Chabot. From whence came That sound of Chabot? then we are all undone: Oh do not hear the Queen, she is no friend To my poor Lord, but made against his life, Which hath too many enemies already. Poor soul, she thinks the Queen is still against him, Who employeth all her powers to preserve him. Say you so my Lord? daughter the Queen's our friend. Why do you mock my sorrow! can you flatter Your own grief so, be just, and hear me sir, And do not sacrifice a subjects blood To appease a wrathful Queen, let mercy shine Upon your brow, and heaven will pay it back Upon your soul, be deaf to all her prayers. Poor heart, she knows not what she has desired. I beg my Chabots life, my sorrows yet Have not destroyed my reason. He is in the power of my Laws, not mine. Then you have no power, And are but the empty shadow of a King, To whom is it resigned? where shall I beg The forfeit life of one condemned by Laws To partial doom? You hear he is condemned then? My son is condemned fit. You know for what too. What the judges please to call it, But they have given to a name, Treason they say. I must not be denied. I must deny you. Be●lest for ever for't. Grant then to her. Chabot condemned by law? But you have power To change the rigour, in ●our breast there is A Chancellor above it, I ne'er had A suit before, but my knees join with hers To implore your royal mercy to her Lord, And take his cause to your examination, It cannot wrong your judges, if they have Been steered by conscience. It will fame your justice. I cannot be prescribed, you kneel in vain, You labour to betray me with your tears To a treason above his, 'gainst my own Laws, Look to the Lady— Sir the Chancellor. Admit him, leave us all. How now my Lord? You have lost no time, and how thrive the proceed. 'twas sit my gracious Sovereign, time should leave His motion made in all affairs beside, And spend his wings only in speed of this. You have showed diligence, and what's become Of our most curious justicer, the Admiral? Condemned sir utterly, and all hands set To his conviction. And for faults most foul? More than most impious, but the applausive issue Struck by the concourse of your ravished subjects For joy of your free justice, if there were No other cause to assure the sentence just Were proof convincing.
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)
No more, Take heede you baniſh not your ſelfe, be wiſe, And let not too much zeale devoure your reaſon, Your Admirall Is condemn'd Sir? Ha? ſtrange! no matter, Leave us, a great man I ſee may be As ſoone diſpatch'd, as a common ſubject▪ No mercy then for Chabot. From whence came That ſound of Chabot? then we are all undone: Oh doe not heare the Queene, ſhe is no friend To my poore Lord, but made againſt his life, Which hath too many enemies already. Poore ſoule, ſhee thinkes the Queene is ſtill againſt him, Who employeth all her powers to preſerve him. Say you ſo my Lord? daughter the Queen's our friend. Why doe you mocke my ſorrow! can you flatter Your owne griefe ſo, be juſt, and heare me ſir, And doe not ſacrifice a ſubjects blood To appeaſe a wrathfull Queene, let mercy ſhine Vpon your brow, and heaven will pay it backe Vpon your ſoule, be deafe to all her prayers. Poore heart, ſhe knowes not what ſhe has deſir'd. I begge my Chabts life, my ſorrowes yet Have not deſtroid my reaſon. He is in the power of my Lawes, not mine. Then you have no power, And are but the emptie ſhadow of a King, To whom is it reſign'd? where ſhall I begge The forfeit life of one condemnd by Lawes To partiall doome? You heare he is condemn'd then? My ſonne is condemn'd fit. You know for what too. What the Iudges pleaſe to call it, But they have given t a name, Treaſon they ſay. I muſt not be denied. I muſt deny you. Beleſt for ever fort. Grant then to her. Chabot condemn'd by law? But you have power To change the rigor, in our breaſt there is A Chancellor above it, I nere had A ſuite before, but my knees joyne with hers To implore your royall mercy to her Lord, And take his cauſe to your examination, It cannot wrong your Iudges, if they have Beene ſteer'd by conſcience. It will fame your Iuſtice. I cannot be preſcrib'd, you kneele in vaine, You labour to betray me with your teares To a treaſon above his, gainſt my owne Lawes, Looke to the Lady— Sir the Chancellor. Admit him, leave us all. How now my Lord? You have loſt no time, and how thrive the proceedings. Twas ſit my gracious Soveraigne, time ſhould leave His motion made in all affaires beſide, And ſpend his wings onely in ſpeed of this. You have ſhew'd diligence, and whats become Of our moſt curious Iuſticer, the Admirall? Condemn'd ſir utterly, and all hands ſet To his conviction. And for faults moſt foule? More than moſt impious, but the applauſive iſſue Strooke by the concourſe of your raviſh'd ſubjects For joy of your free Iuſtice, if there were No other cauſe to aſſure the ſentence juſt Were proofe convincing.