Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1634 [licensed for stage, Nov 29] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.83 · 497 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Wisely preserve'em And rather chide your timorous understanding Then think us angry, had your sin been greater We should have met it charitably, come, You are our Secretary, write as we shall dictate. Did ever Sunshine break so suddenly From such a black and most prodigious cloud? I would ha' sold my body for a bean stalk Within two minutes, sh'as an excellent wit And cunningly she reins it, what's your pleasure I shall write Madam? A letter, a love letter, are you ready, Write as I bid upon your life,— I love you. I am prepared. Write I love you Sir, d'ye not understand me? she'll make me mad, I ha'done, I love you. How Sir? There wanted Sir, I love you Sir. And if you be not short of apprehension. And if, etc. You'll wisely entertain it. You'll wisely, etc. All errors be forgot, meet me this evening All errors, etc. I'th' privy Garden, and receive more testimony. I'th' privy garden, etc. Mean time here is my hand, that in the morning I'll marry you. Mean time, etc..— What a devil does she mean? I ha' done, it wants your confirmation— so. To whom shall I direct it? You will be trusty, there's danger else. To whom? To him that loves me best, Deceive me not farewell. I love you Sir, etc. 'tis a letter, and I wrote it, To whom, to him that loves her best, if none love her better, 'tis to myself? Why am I so scrupulous? She has made me Chancellor in the cause, There's no particular named, yet she was angry, Yet she was pleased again, and had my crime Been greater, she had met it charitably. Come I perceive the whole device as sure As I have any sense, she does affect me, And tries me at the last weapon of wit How I'll behave myself, are you there Duchess; She is my own, and this invites me to The close of all my happiness, if I Forfeit this opportunity, let Midas Transplant his goodly ears to this dull head, And let all women laugh at me, my stars I bow to you, and kiss your influence, I am exalted to your sphere already, Where, with the Duchess I will sit and shine A constellation. You're well met Sir, Borgia I take it. You may change that name And call me servant. You have prostrate language, But carry treason in your heart, you know me? Duke of Ferrara. So, was't your plot to bring That puppet to affront me 'fore the Duchess? Was there no other name to be usurped, Dishonoured, and profaned by hounds and monkeys But mine? I understand you not, your anger Is not directed right my Lord, I am not Guilty in thought. Your fears shall not excuse. You are abused. I know I am Sir, and Will print revenge upon your heart, 'tshall carry The character of a villain. I must tell you Duke.
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)
Wisely preserve'em And rather chide your timerous understanding Then thinke us angry, had your sinne beene greater We should have met it charitably, come, You are our Secretary, write as we shall dictate. Did ever Sunne-shine breake so suddenly From such a blacke and most prodigious cloud? I would ha' sold my body for a beane stalke Within two minuts, sh'as an excellent wit And cunningly she reines it, whats your pleasure I shall write Madam? A letter, a love letter, are you ready, Write as I bid upon your life,—I love you. I am perpar'd. Write I love you Sir, de'e not understand me? Shee'l make me mad, I ha'done, I love you. How Sir? There wanted Sir, I love you Sir. And if you be not short of apprehension. And if, &c. You'l wisely entertaine it. You'l wisely, &c. All errors be forgot, meete me this evening All errors, &c. I'th privie Garden, and receive more testimony. I'th privie garden, &c. Meane time heere is my hand, that in the morning I'le marry you. Meane time, &c▪—What a divell does she meane? I ha' done, it wants your confirmation—so. To whom shall I direct it? You will be trustie, there's danger else. To whom? To him that loves me best, Deceive me not farewell. I love you Sir, &c. tis a letter, and I wrote it, To whom, to him that loves her best, if none love her better, Tis to my selfe? Why am I so scrupulous? She has made me Chancellor in the cause, There's noe particular nam'd, yet she was angry, Yet she was pleasd agen, and had my crime Beene greater, she had met it charitably. Come I perceive the whole device as sure As I have any sense, she does affect me, And tries me at the last weapon of wit How Ile behave my selfe, are you there Dutchesse; She is my owne, and this invites me to▪ The close of all my happinesse, if I Forfeit this opportunitie, let Midas Transplant his goodly eares to this dull head, And let all women laugh at me, my starres I bow to you, and kisse your influence, I am exalted to your spheare already, Where, with the Dutchesse I will sit and shine A constellation. Y'are well met Sir, Borgia I take it. You may change that name And call me servant. You have prostrate language, But carry treason in your heart, you know me? Duke of Ferrara. So, was't your plot to bring That puppet to affront me 'fore the Dutchesse? Was there noe other name to be usurp'd, Dishonor'd, and prophan'd by hounds and monkies But mine? I understand you not, your anger Is not directed right my Lord, I am not Guiltie in thought. Your feares shall not excuse. You are abus'd. I know I am Sir, and Will print revenge upon your heart, 'tshall carry The character of a villaine. I must tell you Duke.