Lower, William · published 1639 · first performed or written 1639 [c.1622-1639] (Annals) not in BritDrama T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation typicality 0.86 · 450 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
Sure you cannot, Although you would, conceal yourself from me, Whose love discerning eyes have found you out To be admired Amandus, and surveyed Each lineament a part, with such regard As Painters use in limming of a piece, You're drawn within my heart, from head to foot. I grant it Madam, that I was that Prince You pleased to name, but now have nothing left me But the bare title, but that airy name, Poor echo of Damascus, would I might Lose that and life, the shadow with the substance, Than I were happy, but my fates alas I fear reserve me for more misery. If possible, than I have tasted yet: Therefore let all avoid me as the plague, Lest they should be infected with my grief. Do not suppose your pleading poverty, Or ought you can allege, to wrong yourself, Hath power to turn the stream of my affection Another way then now it holds its course, Or to repel my argument of love: No, no, the plea is stronger, though you were Poorer then Irui (I invoke as witness Of this my vow the power that made me yours) Yet would I rather be conjoined to you In nuptial bands, then be the wedded wife Of any other Prince, although he were Richer than Croesus, and heaven knows I could Content me better in this prison here, (So you could love me, and I might enjoy you) Then in the Persian Palace, if I lie, Let Cupid shoot you with a leaden dart, And with disdain kill poor Lucinda's heart. O dearest Princess, take deliberation, And enter into thought of what you are, Of what I am, and what the Persian is. Then you will soon call home these wandering thoughts, And place them where they shall be worth your love: In me alas they cannot, for although I had not lost my Country, though my kingdom Had still been mine, and though I now enjoyed My former regal dignities and state, Yet should I count myself too mean by far, To match with you the mighty soldan's heir, And only daughter, now I scarce deserve To wait on you in nature of your servant. Lucinda This shall not serve your turn, these vain excuses And wrongful reasons urged against yourself, Shall not prevail at all: the more you strive To stop the current of my swelling passions, The more they rage within this breast of mine, And in the end will overflow and break My heart if you prove cruel, and put off My hopes with such weak shifts and poor delays. Come, grant me love, and seal it with a kiss As an assurance.
seed 43: T14 · seed 44: T9 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Sure you cannot, Although you would, conceale your selfe from me, Whose love discerning eyes have found you out To be admir'd Amandus, and survey'd Each lineament a part, with such regard As Painters use in limming of a piece, You'r drawne within my heart, from head to foot. I grant it Madam, that I was that Prince You pleas'd to name, but now have nothing left me But the bare title, but that aery name, Poore eccho of Damascus, would I might Loose that and life, the shadow with the substance, Then I were happy, but my fae alas I feare reserve me for more misery. If possible, then I have tasted yet: Therefore let all avoid me as the plague, Lest they should be infected with my griefe. Doe not suppose your pleading poverty, Or ought you can alledge, to wrong your selfe, Hath power to turne the streame of my affection Another way then now it holds its course, Or to repell my argument of love: No, no, the plea is stronger, though you were Pooer then Irui (I invoke as witnese Of this my vow the power that made me yours) Yet would I rather be conjoyn'd to you In nuptiall bads, then be the wdded wife Of any other Prince, although he were Richer then Craesus, and heaven knowes I could Content me better in this prison here, (So you could love me, and I might enjoy you) Then in the Persian Palace, if I lye, Let Cupid shoot you with a leaen dart, And with disdaine kill poore Lucinda's heart. O deerest Princesse, take deliberation, And enter into thought of what you are, Of what I am, and what the Persian is. Then you wil soone call home these wandring thoughts, And place them where they shall be worth your love: In me alas they cannot, for although I had not lost my Country, though my kingdome Had still beene mine, and though I now enjoy'd My former regal dignities and state, Yet should I count my selfe too meane by farre, To match with you the mighty Souldans heire, And onely daughter, now I scarce deserve To wait on you in nature of your servant. Lucinda This shall not serve your turne, these vain excuses And wrongfull reasons urg'd against your selfe, Shall not prevaile at all: the more you strive To stop the current of my swelling passions, The more they rage within this breast of mine, And in the end will overflow and breake My heart if you prove cruell, and put off My hopes with such weake shifs and poor delayes. Come, grant me love, and seale it with a kisse As an assurance.