Rawlins, Thomas · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1637-1639] (Annals) tragedy · King's Revels Company unassigned nearest T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
Forefend it goodness; ay, nay all; ere many hours makes the now young day A type of sparkling youth; shall on their knees Pray for your highness. Look up my Auristella, and be great; Rise with the Sun, but never to decline, What have you done? Waked thee to be a Queen. A Queen! O don't dissemble; you have robbed me Of greater pleasure, than the fancied bliss Elysium owns: O for a pleasure real, that would appear in all unto my dream: that I may Frown, and then kill; smile, and create again. Were there a Hell, as doting age would have, To fright from lawless courses heed less youth: For such a short lived happiness as that, I would be lost unto eternity. The day grows old in hours: Come Auristella to the Capital; The Graybeard Senate shall on humble knees, Pay a Religious Sacrifice of praise Unto thy demi Deity: the Stars Have in a general Senate made thee Queen Of this our world: Great master of thy Art, Confirm my love. Madam— Nay hear him love, believe me he's a man That may be Secretary to the gods; He is alone in Art, 'twere sin to name A second; all are dunces to him. How easy is the faith of the ambitious. Follow me to the Counsel. Are you the man my husband speaks so high of? Are you skilled i'the Stars? Yes Madam. Your habit says, or you abuse the custom, You're a Physician? Madam i'm both. Anddee' find no let that stops my rising. Not any. Away, your skill is dull, dull to derision. There is a Star fixed i'the heaven of greatness, That sparkles with a rich and fresher light, Than our sick and defective Taper. It may be so, the horiscope is troubled; Confusion take your horiscope and you. Can you with all your Art advise my fears, How to confound this constellation. Death how she conjures; Madam I must search into the Planets. Planet me no planets; be a Physician, And from your study of industrious poisons, Fetch me your best experienced speedy one, And bring it to me straight: what 'tis to do, Like unresolved riddles hid from you. Planet said I; upon my life no planet Is so swift as her ne'er resting evil, That's her tongue: well i'll not question What the poisons for, if for herself, The common Hangman's eased the labour of a blow, For if she live her head must certain off; The poison i'll go get, and give it her, Then to the King: If Sebastiano's Frenchified disguise Purchase the like discovery, our eyes Will be too scanty; we had need to be All eye, to watch such haughty villainy. Begare Madam me make de gown so brave; O, de hole vorle vorke be me patron, me ha' vorke for le grand Duchess le Shevere, le Royne de Francia, Spanea de Angleter an all d'fine Mademoiselles.
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)
Fore send it goodnesse; I, nay all; E're many houres makes the now yong day A type of sparkeling youth; shall on their knees Pray for your highnesse. Looke up my Auristella, and be great; Rise with the Sun, but never to decline, What have you done? Wak'd thee to be a Queene. A Queene▪ O don't dissemble; you have rob'd me Of greater pleasure, than the fancied blisse Elizium ownes: O for a pleasure reall, that Wo'd appeare in all unto my dreame: that I may Frowne, and then kill; smile, and create againe. Were there a Hell, as doting age wo'd have, To fright from lawlesse courses heed lesse youth: For such a short liv'd happinesse as that, I wo'd be lost unto eternity. The day growes old in houres: Come Auristella to the Capitall; The Gray-beard Senate shall on humble knees, Pay a Religious Sacrifice of praise Unto thy demy Deity: the Starrs Have in a generall Senate made thee Queene Of this our world: Great master of thy Art, Confirme my love. Madam— Nay heare him love, beleeve me he's a man That may be Secretary to the gods; He is alone in Art, 'twere sin to name A second; all are dunces to him. How easie is the faith of the ambitious. Follow me to the Counsell. Are you the man my husband speakes so high of? Are you skill'd i'the Starres? Yes Madam. Your habit sayes, or you abuse the custome, You're a Physitian? Madam i'me both. And dee' find no let that stops my rysing. Not any. Away, your skill is dull, dul to dirision. There is a Star fixt i'the heaven of greatnesse, That sparkles with a rich and fresher light, Than our sicke and defective Taper. It may be so, the horiscope is troubled; Confusion take your horiscope and you. Can you with all your Art advise my feares, How to confound this constellation. Death how she conjures; Madam I must search into the Planets. Planet me no planets; be a Physitian, And from your study of industrious poisons, Fetch me your best experienc'd speedy one, And bring it to me straight: what 'tis to doe, Like unresolved riddles hid from you. Planet said I; upon my life no planet Is so swift as her nere resting evill, That's her tongue: well i'le not question What the poisons for, if for her selfe, The common Hangman's eas'd the labour of a blow, For if she live her head must certaine off; The poison ile goe get, and give it her, Then to the King: If Sebastiano's Frenchified disguise Purchase the like discovery, our eyes Will be too scanty; we had need to be All eye, to watch such haughty villany. Begare Madam me make de gowne so brave; O, de hole vorle vorke be me patron, me ha vorke for le grand Duches le Shevere, le Royne de Francia, Spanea de Angleter an all d'fine Madamosels.