Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1631 [licensed for stage, May 17] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.78 · 514 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
The cause of your attendance now, is known Ere you deliver it. The departure Of the young Duke (our Lover) from our Court In so obscure a way, without your notice; Our consent published gives you just cause Of wonder: yet so much you're skilled both in Our soul and nature, that no immediate Motive of his anger shall be laid to Our charge; but what you think, makes our person Safe, and great. We come with humble modesty t'require So much, as shall concern our care, both Of your gracious self, and our good Country. Foscari, Duke of Parma is a great Prince; Feature; a Lady, like your excellence, His youth and strength may promise issue even To a matron. We know he merits all his praise. Proceed To what you call your business. His Catholic Majesty did lately by His Lieger, urge a title to this Duchy, And desire your Counsel, he might be named Your Highness next, and lawful heir, unless From your own person, were derived a Prince To intercept his hopes, with ease, you may Consider, how unkind our fate will be, Beyond his own natural soil, doth make Obedience bondage. You have yet hope, 'tis in my power To prevent what you suspect. We have, but Time (the enemy to lie, And to increase) may scorn, destroy that hope. If not for propitious love to us; Yet for your own sake, your glory, hasten The cure of these our fears: Time is the moth Of nature, devours all beauty, when those Bright eyes, that govern now with Phoebus-like Predominance, shall yield no light unto That darkened sky (your face) some aged mother proud of her fertile womb, will show you then Her offspring. Behold (quoth she) I need no Marble house for my fame to dwell in, these Are my living monuments, but your sullen chastity, will not permit your fame t' outlive Your breath. No more Comachio! these are my own thoughts: Shortly you shall see I am art, prevention Of all danger. You are my gracious Mistress. Yea you shall much divulge your clemency If to stifle public noise you reveal The reason; why Foscari was not made Your choice. Foscari is a foreigner: borne in A climate not so temperate as ours, And I am yet to know, whether his mind Be different from such as please me here At home: foreign alliance is an old Disguise for Sunice's hatred: It charms the Peaceful into a dull security; Until the furious find best advantage To make his anger known: than both are more Engaged t'inflame, what erst th' one did kindle. I should sin my good Lords, if I did think My humility disgraced my honour, When I supposed my own Court able to Breed a man, fit to mingle blood, even with A Princess; should I say with mine: what amazed, Why does it want example, I should not Think my choice would much accuse my eyes, if I elect a Lover here: unless some Are more desertless than I am guilty of, Laura!
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)
The cause of your attendance now, is knowne Ere you deliver it. The departure Of the young Duke (our Lover) from our Court In so obscure a way, without your notice; Our consent publish'd gives you just cause Of wonder: yet so much y'are skil'd both in Our soule and nature, that no immediate Motive of his anger shall be laid to Our charge; but what you thinke, makes our person Safe, and great. We come with humble modesty t'require So much, as shall concerne our care, both Of your gracious selfe, and our good Country. Foscari, Duke of Parma is a great Prince; Feature; a Lady, like your excellence, His youth and strength may promise issue even To a matron. We know he merits all his praise. Proceede To what you call your businesse. His Catholicke Majesty did lately by His Liger, urge a title to this Duchy, And desire your Counsell, he might be nam'd Your Highnesse next, and lawfull heire, unlesse From your owne person, were deriv'd a Prince To intercept his hopes, with ease, you may Consider, how unkinde our fate will be, Beyond his owne naturall soile, doth make Obedience bondage. You have yet hope, tis in my power To prevent what you suspect. We have, but Time (the enemy to lie, And to increase) may scorne, destroy that hope. If not for propitious love to us; Yet for your owne sake, your glory, hasten The cure of these our feares: Time is the moth Of nature, devouers all beauty, when those Bright eyes, that governe now with Phoebus-like Predominance, shall yeeld no light unto That darkened sky (your face) some aged mother Pround of her fertill wombe, will shew you then Her off-spring. Behold (quoth she) I neede no Marble house for my fame to dwell in, these Are my living monuments, but your sullaine Chastetie, will not permit your fame t' outlive Your breath. No more Comachio! these are my owne thoughts: Shortly you shall see I am art, prevention Of all danger. You are my gracious Mistresse. Yea you shall much divulge your clemency If to stifle publike noyse you reveale The reason; why Foscari was not made Your choyse. Foscari is a forraigner: borne in A climate not so temperate as ours, And I am yet to know, whether his minde Be different from such as please me here At home: forraigne alliance is an old Disguise for Sunices hatred: It charmes the Peacefull into a dull security; Vntill the furious finde best advantage To make his anger knowne: then both are more Ingag'd t'inflame, what erst th' one did kindle. I should sinne my good Lords, if I did thinke My humillity disgrac'd my honour, When I suppos'd my owne Court able to Breede a man, fit to mingle blood, even with A Princesse; should I say with mine: what amaz'd, Why does it want example, I should not Thinke my choyce would much accuse my eyes, if I elect a Lover here: unlesse some Are more desert-lesse then I am guilty of, Laura!