Cartwright, William · published 1639 · first performed or written 1636 [Aug 30] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · before the Court unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 497 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
He must live And Reign his time prescribed; but he must not Perform the Actions he intends. Let then All the delights and pleasures, that a Slave Admires in Kings be offered. Though an hundred Still watchful eyes beset his head, yet there Is one way left; Music may subtly creep And rock his senses so, that all may sleep. PErish their Tables, and themselves: a Throne May stand without those tumults of delights, That wait on big and pompous Luxury. I'll cross their expectation, and quite banish All that their weaker minds do think delight. king's pleasures are more subtle, than to be Seen by the vulgar; they are Men, but such As ne'er had any dregs, or if they had, Dropped 'em as they were drawing up from out The groveling Press of Mortals. To offend Beyond the reach of Law without control, Is not the Nature, but the vice of Power; And he is only great, that dares be good. HE wears a serious look still; we may hope As soon to calm a Tempest with a song, As soften him. Beasts and hard Rocks have both Been moved, and by his Countryman. Let's try. That we may some way, Sir, express our service Unto you, with intent you may not feel Bare honour only without the delights, We have provided you a taste, of our Best Persian Music. That's an innocent pleasure; Spheres make it, and Gods hear it. Boy come in. YOur last new song, that which I gave you Sirrah. See yonder where he sits; let's stand and see How he'll behave himself; the Lords have vowed To try him to the utmost. I begin To fear that he is mortal. Come begin Come my sweet, whiles every strain Calls our Souls into the Ear; Where they greedy listening fain Would turn into the sound they hear; Lest in desire To fill the Choir Themselves they tie To Harmony, Let's kiss and call them back again. Now let's orderly convey Our Souls into each other's Breast, Where interchanged let them stay Slumbering in a melting rest. Then with new fire Let them retire, And still present Sweet fresh content Youthful as the early day. Then let us a Tumult make, Shuffling so our souls, that we Careless who did give or take, May not know in whom they be. Then let each smother And stifle the other, Till we expire In gentle fire Scorning the forgetful Lake. I did expect some solemn Hymn of the Great world's beginning, or some brave captains Deserving deeds extolled in lofty numbers. These softer subjects grate our ears: But what Are these my Lords? she Minstrels? Consequences, Which we out of that duty which we owe you Thought a fit present, that you might not want Any delight that Persia yields. I have No humane thought about me now, forbear. You are no Statue Sir? or if you were, These yet methinks might melt you.
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)
He must live And Reigne his time prescrib'd; but he must not Performe the Actions he intends. Let then All the delights and pleasures, that a Slave Admires in Kings be offer'd. Though an hundred Still watchfull eyes beset his head, yet there Is one way left; Musicke may subtly creepe And rocke his senses so, that all may sleepe. PErish their Tables, and themselves: a Throne May stand without those tumults of delights, That wayte on big and pompous Luxury▪ I'le crosse their expectation, and quite banish All that their weaker mindes do thinke delight. Kings pleasures are more subtle, then to be Seen by the vulgar; they are Men, but such As ne're had any dregges, or if they had, Drop'd 'em as they were drawing up from out The groveling Prease of Mortalls. To offend Beyond the reach of Law without controule, Is not the Nature, but the vice of Pow'r; And he is only great, that dares be good. HE weares a serious looke still; we may hope As soon to calme a Tempest with a song, As soften him. Beasts and hard Rockes have both Been mov'd, and by his Country-man. Let's try. That we may some way, Sir, expresse our service Unto you, with intent you may not feele Bare honour only without the delights, We have provided you a taste, of our Best Persian Musicke. That's an innocent pleasure; Sphears make it, and Gods heare it. Boy come in. YOur last new song, that which I gave you Sirrah. See yonder where he sits; let's stand and see How hee'le behave himselfe; the Lords have vow'd To try him to the utmost▪ I begin To feare that he is mortall. Come begin Come my sweet, whiles every strayne Calls our Soules into the Eare; Where they greedy listning fayne Would turne into the sound they heare▪ Lest in desire To fill the Quire Themselves they tye To Harmony, Let's kisse and call them backe againe. Now let's orderly conveigh Our Soules into each other's Brest, Where interchanged let them stay Slumbring in a melting rest. Then with new fire Let them retire, And still present Sweet fresh content Youthfull as the early day. Then let us a Tumult make, Shuffling so our soules, that we Carelesse who did give or take, May not know in whom they be. Then let each smother And stifle the other, Till we expire In gentle fire Scorning the forgetfull Lake. I did expect some solemne Hymne of the Great world's beginning, or some brave Captaines Deserving deeds extoll'd in lofty numbers. These softer subjects grate our eares: But what Are these my Lords? shee Minstrells? Consequences, Which we out of that duty which we owe you Thought a fit present, that you might not want Any delight that Persia yeelds. I have No humane thought about me now, forbeare. You are no Statue Sir? or if you were, These yet methinkes might melt you.