The Bloody Brother (Rollo, Duke of Normandy) · chunk 32 of 39
Fletcher, John / Field, Nathan / Massinger, Philip · published 1639 · first performed or written 1617 [revised 1627-1630] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.85 · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
You cannot name the persons bring this danger? No, that the Stars tell us not, they name no man, That is a work, sir, of another place. Tell him whom you suspect, and he'll guess shrewdly. Sir, we do fear one Aubrey; if 'twere he I should be glad; for we should soon prevent him. I know him, the Duke's kinsman, a tall man? Lay hold of't Norbret. Let me pause a little, Is he not near of kin unto the Duke? Yes reverend Sir. Fart for your reverence, keep it till then; and somewhat high of statutre? He is so. How old is he? About seven and fifty. His head and beard inclining to be grey. Right, Sir. And fat? He is somewhat corpulent, is he not? You speak the man, sir. Well, look to him, farewell. Oh, it is Aubrey; gentlemen, I pray you, Let me receive this under all your hands. Why, he will show you him in his Magic glass If you entreat him, and but gratify A Spirit or two more. He shall eat gold If he will have it, so shall you all; there's that Amongst you first, let me have this to send The Duke in the mean time; and than what sights You please to show; I'll have you so rewarded As never Artists weet, you shall to Court Along with me, and there wait your fortunes. We have a pretty part of't in our pockets; Boy we will all be new, you shall along to. Good Madam hear the suit that Edith urges, With such submiss beseeches; nor remain So strictly bound to sorrow for your son, That nothing else, though never so befitting, Obtains your ears, o●●●servation. What would she say? I hear. My suit is, Madam, That you would please to think aswell of Justice Due to your son's revenge, as of more wrong added To both yourselves for it, in only grieving. Th'undaunted power of Princes, should not be Confined in deedless cold calamity; Anger, the Twin of sorrow, in your wrongs Should not be smothered, when his right of birth Claims th'air as well, and force of coming forth. Sorrow is due already, Anger never Should be conceived but where it may be borne In some fact fit t'employ his active flame, That else consumes who bears it, and abides Like a false star that quenches as it glides. I have such means t'employ it as your wish Can think no better, easier, or securer; And such as but th'honours I intent To your partake; I alone could end: But your parts in all dues to crying blood For vengeance in the shedder, are much greater: And therefore should work your hands to his slaughter, For your consent to which, 'twere infinite wrong To your severe and most partial Justice, To move you to forget so false a son, As with a mother's duty made you curse him.
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
You cannot name the persons bring this danger? No, that the Stars tell us not, they name no man, That is a worke, sir, of another place. Tell him whom you suspect, and hee'le guesse shrewdly. Sir, we do feare one Aubrey; if 'twere he I should be glad; for we should soon prevent him. I know him, the Dukes kinsman, a tall man? Lay hold of't Norbret. Let me pause a little, Is he not neare of kin unto the Duke? Yes reverend Sir. Fart for your reverence, keep it till then; and somewhat high of statutre? He is so. How old is he? About seven and fifty. His head and beard inclining to be grey. Right, Sir. And fat? He is somewhat corpulent, is he not? You speak the man, sir. Well, look to him, farewell. Oh, it is Aubrey; gentlemen, I pray you, Let me receive this under all your hands. Why, he will shew you him in his Magick glasse If you intreate him, and but gratifie A Spirit or two more. He shall eat gold If he will have it, so shall you all; ther's that Amongst you first, let me have this to send The Duke in the meane time; and then what sights You please to shew; Ile have you so rewarded As never Artists wete, you shall to Court Along with me, and there wait your fortunes. We have a pretty part of't in our pockets; Boy we will all be new, you shall along to. Good Madam heare the suit that Edith urges With such submisse beseeches; nor remaine So strictly bound to sorrow for your sonne, That nothing else, though never so befitting, Obtaines your eares, o servation. What would she say? I heare. My suit is, Madam, That you would please to thinke aswell of Justice Due to your sonnes revenge, as of more wrong added To both your selves for it, in only grieving. Th'undaunted power of Princes, should not be Confin'd in deedlesse cold calamity; Anger, the Twinne of sorrow, in your wrongs Should not be smother'd, when his right of birth Claimes th'ayre as well, and force of comming forth. Sorrow is due already, Anger never Should be conceived but where it may be borne In some fact fit t'employ his active flame, That else consumes who beares it, and abides Like a false starre that quenches as it glides. I have such means t'employ it as your wish Can thinke no better, easier, or securer; And such as but th'honors I intend To your partakings; I alone could end: But your parts in all dues to crying blood For vengeance in the shedder, are much greater And therefore should worke your hands to his slaughter, For your consent to which, t'were infinite wrong To your severe and most partiall Justice, To move you to forget so false a sonne, As with a mothers duty made you curse him.