The Bloody Brother (Rollo, Duke of Normandy) · chunk 13 of 39
Fletcher, John / Field, Nathan / Massinger, Philip · published 1639 · first performed or written 1617 [revised 1627-1630] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
If he do, friends, we shall find that will hold us; And yet me thinks, this prologue to our purpose, These crowns should promise more: 'tis easily done, As easy as a man would roast an egg, If that be all; for look you, gentlemen, Here stand my broths, my finger slips a little, Down drops a dose, I stir him with my ladle, And there's a dish for a Duke: Olla Podrida. Here stands a baked meat, he wants a little seasoning, A foolish mistake; my Spice-box, gentlemen, And put in some of this, the matter matter's ended; Dredge you a dish of plovers, there's the Art on't. Or as I fill my wine. 'tis very true, sir. Blessing it with your hand, thus quick and neatly first, 'tis past And done once, 'tis as easy For him to thank us for it, and reward us. But 'tis a damned sin. O, never fear that. The fire's my playfellow, and now I am resolved, boys. Why then, have with you. The same for me. For me too. And now no more our worships, but our lordships. Not this year, on my knowledge, I'll unlord you. PErfume the room round, and prepare the table, gentlemans officers, wait in your places. Make room there, Room for the Duke's meat. Gentlemen, be bare there, Clear all the entrance: Guard, put by those gapers, And gentlemen-ushers, see the gallery clear, The Dukes are coming on. 'tis certainly informed. Reward the fellow, and look you mainly to it. My life for yours, sir. Now am I straight, my lords, and young again, My long since blasted hopes shoot out in blossoms, The fruits of everlasting love appearing; Oh! my blessed boys, the honour of my years, Of all my cares, the bounteous fair rewarders. Oh! let me thus embrace you, thus for ever Within a mother's love lock up your friendships: And my sweet sons, once more with mutual twine, As one chaste bed begot you, make one body: Blessings from heaven in thousand showers fall on you: Oh! woman's goodness never to be equalled, May the most sinful creatures of thy sex But kneeling at thy monument, rise saints. Sat down my worthy sons; my lords. your places. ay, now me thinks (the table's nobly furnish; Now the meat nourishes; the wine gives spirit; And all the room stuck with a general pleasure, Shows like the peaceful bows of happiness. Long may it last, and from a heart filled with it, Full as my cup: I give it round, my lords. And may that stubborn heart be drunk with sorrow Refuses it; men dying now, should take it; Shake off their miseries, and sleep in peace. You are sad, my noble brother. No, indeed, sir. No sadness my son this day. Pray you eat. Something is here you have loved; taste of this dish It will prepare your stomach. Thank you brother: I am not now disposed to eat.
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)
If he doe, friends, we shall finde that will hold us; And yet me thinks, this prologue to our purpose, These crownes should promise more: tis easily done, As easie as a man would roast an egge, If that be all; for look you, gentlemen, Here stand my broths, my finger slips a little, Downe drops a dose, I stir him with my ladle, And there's a dish for a Duke: lla Podrid. Here stands a bak'd meat, he wan a little seasoning, A foolish mistake; my Spice-box, gentlemen, And put in some of this, the matter ended; Dredge you a dish of plovers, there's the Art on't. Or as I fill my wine. Tis very true, sir. Blssing it with your hand, thus quick and neatly first, tis past And done once, tis as easie For him to thank us for it, and reward us. But tis a damnd sinne. O, never feare that. The fire's my play-fellow, and now I am resolvd, boyes. Why then, have with you. The same for mee. For mee too. And now no more our worships, but our lordships. Not this yeere, on my knowledge, Ile unlord you. PErfume the roome round, and prepare the table, Gentlemen officers, wait in your places. Make roome there, Roome for the Dukes meate. Gentlemen, be bare there, Cleere all the entrance: Guard, put by those gapers, And gentlemen-ushers, see the gallery cleere, The Dukes are comming on. Tis certainly informd. Reward the fellow, and looke you mainly to it. My life for yours, sir. Now am I straight my lords, and young agen, My long since blasted hopes shoot out in blossomes, The fruits of everlasting love appearing; Oh! my blest boyes, the honour of my yeares, Of all my cares, the bounteous faire rewarders. Oh! let me thus imbrace you, thus for ever Within a mothers love lock up your friendships: And my sweet sons, once more with mutuall twinings, As one chast bed begot you, make one body: Blessings from heaven in thousand showres fall on you: Oh! womans goodnesse never to be equall'd, May rhe most sinfull creatures of thy sex But kneeling at thy monument, rise saints. Sit downe my worthy sons; my lords. your places. I, now mee thinks (the table's nobly furnish; Now the meat nourishes; the wine gives spirit; And all the roome stuck with a generall pleasure, Shewes like the peacefull bowes of happinesse. Long may it last, and from a heart fill'd with it, Full as my cup: I give it round, my lords. And may that stubborn heart be drunk with sorrow Refuses it; men dying now, should take it; Shake off their miseries, and sleep in peace. You are sad, my noble brother. No, indeed, sir. No sadnesse my son this day. Pray you eate. Something is here you have lov'd; taste of this dish It will prepare your stomack. Thank you brother: I am not now dispos'd to eate.