The Bloody Brother (Rollo, Duke of Normandy) · chunk 13 of 39
Fletcher, John / Field, Nathan / Massinger, Philip · published 1640 · first performed or written 1617 [revised 1627-1630] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour · 482 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
'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. I never fear that, The fire's my playfellow, and now I am resolved boys. Why then have with ye. The same for me. For me too. And now no more our worships, but our Lordships. Not this year o' my knowledge, i'll unlord ye. Perfume the room round: and prepare the table: Gentlemen 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 papers, 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 you 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. O my blessed boys, the honour of my years, Of all my cares the bounteous fair rewarders! O 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 twinings, As one chaste bed begot you, make one body: Blessings from heaven in thousand showers fall on ye. O woman's goodness never to be equalled, May the most sinful creatures of thy Sex, But kneeling at thy Monument, rise Saints. Sit down my worthy sons, my Lords your places. ay, now methinks the Table's nobly furnished, Now the meat nourishes, the wine gives Spirit, And all the room stuck with a general pleasure, Shows like the peaceful bower 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, And by the virtue of this Ceremony Shake off their miseries and sleep in peace, You are sad my noble brother. no indeed Sir. No sadness my sweet son this day. Pray ye 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. Or that, You put us out of heart man, come these baked meats Were ever your best diet. None I thank you. Are you well noble Child? Yes gracious mother. Give him a cup of wine then, pledge the health, Drink it to me i'll give it to my mother. Do my best child. I must not my best mother, Indeed I dare not, for of late my body Has been much weakened, by excess of diet. The promise of a fever hanging on me, And even now ready, if not by abstinence.
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
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 sinne. I never feare that, The fire's my playfellow, and now I am resolv'd boyes. Why then have with yee. The same for mee. For me too. And now no more our worships, but our Lordships. Not this yeare o' my knowledge, ile un-lord ye. Perfume the roome round: and prepare the table: Gentlemen officers waite in your places. Make roome there, Roome for the Dukes meate, Gentlemen be bare there, Cleere all the entrance, Guard put by those papers, And Gentlemen Vshers see the Gallery cleere The Dukes are coming on. Tis certainly inform'd. Reward the fellow, And looke you mainely to it. My life for you Sir. Now am I straight my Lords, and young againe, My long since blasted hopes shoote out in blossomes, The fruits of everlasting love appearing. O my blest boyes, the honour of my yeares, Of all my cares the bounteous faire rewarders! O let me thus embrace you, thus for ever Within a mothers love lock up your friendships, And my sweet sonnes, once more with mutuall twinings, As one chast bed begot you, make one body: Blessings from heaven in thousand showers fall on yee. O womans goodnesse never to be equall'd, May the most sinfull creatures of thy Sex, But kneeling at thy Monument, rise Saints. Sit downe my worthy sonnes, my Lords your places. I, now me thinks the Table's nobly furnish't, Now the meat nourishes, the wine gives Spirit, And all the roome stuck with a generall pleasure, Shewes like the peacefull bower 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 stubborne heart be drunk with sorrow Refuses it, men dying now should take it, And by the vertue of this Ceremony Shake off their miseries and sleepe in peace, You are sad my noble brother. no indeed Sir. No sadnesse my sweet sonne this day. Pray ye eate, Something is here you have lov'd, ast of this dish, It will prepare your Stomack. Thank you brother, I am not now dispos'd to eate. Or that, You put us out of heart man, come these bak'd meats Were ever your best dyet. None I thanke you. Are you well noble Child? Yes gratious mother. Give him a cup of wine then, pledge the health, Drinke it to me ile give it to my mother. Doe my best child. I must not my best mother, Indeed I dare not, for of late my body Has been much weakned, by excesse of dyet. The promise of a feaver hanging on mee, And even now ready, if not by abstinence.