The Ladies' Privilege (The Lady's Privilege) · chunk 26 of 31
Glapthorne, Henry · published 1640 · first performed or written 1637 [1637-1640] (Annals) not in BritDrama · before the Court unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 513 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
'tis an act the State will thank you for; unveil yourself, That we may know to whom we owe our gratitude, A most excelling beauty, such an eye Would tempt religious coldness to a flame, Thaw Ages chilly frost, at such a cheek The Spring might take a pattern to create, A most accomplished freshness; in her looks, Are modest signs of innocence, such as Saints Wear in their liveliest counterfeits: Doria, here A Lady begs you, whom if you refuse, The times would black you with the hateful title Of your own wilful murder; take her to you And live a fortunate husband. Noble maid, my misery is so extreme a sin, It cannot meet your bounty without breach Of vows; which should I violate, would pull Eternal torments on me; keep your beauty For one whose soul, free as the air he breathes, Can yield a mutual fancy to your flame, And not destroy his honour, for your goodness Since my expired date, cannot yield you thanks Worthy the bound less merit of your love, If there can be a gratitude after death Expressed by prayers, my soul in heaven shall pay it To your kind charity. Oh my Lord, I did expect this answer, my poor worth Cannot deserve your value; yet there is A constant purity in my thoughts, that intend you So much of Bliss, that had your safety no Dependence on my suit, it would be deemed Most cruel to contemn me, I have loved you These many years; wished you as many glories As I have numbered days, have vowed I never Will marry any man, but your blessed self my Lord, Should you neglect the justness of my request, Besides the danger waiting on your life, A thousand Virgins, whose unspotted prayers Like hosts of guardian Angels, would have borne You on their wings to heaven, will for my sake Convert their zeal to curses, and in tears Of anguish drown your memory. Why friend, this is Such an o'erweening passion, as does question The soundness of your judgement, fills the world With a conceit you die; because your fears Dare not accept of life: Besides your Mistress, To whom you would so strictly keep your faith, Does so much scorn your constancy, that no Entreats could move her pity undertake This honourable employment. Do it with speedy diligence. Her causeless frailty Shall more confirm my truth: My Noble Lord pronounce My happy sentence, 'twill be welcome to me As charming harmony, and swell my breast With more than humane pleasure. Are you come? approach, Behold this Executioner, and this Priest, This is to wed you to destruction, that To this rich Mine of purity: your choice May accept either: if you fix on this, Besides your own redemption, you enjoy A Lady, who may claim as many hearts As she has virtuous thoughts; but lean to that, Your Spring returns unpitied, to the rude Arms of perpetual winter, that will freeze you To a ne'er melting icicle, be sudden, And wise in your election.
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)
Tis an act the State will thanke you for; unvaile your selfe, That we may know to whom we owe our gratitude, A most excelling beauty, such an eye Would tempt religious coldnesse to a flame, Thaw Ages chilly frost, at such a cheeke The Spring might take a patterne to create, A most accomplish'd freshnesse; in her looks, Are modest signes of innocence, such as Saints Weare in their liveliest counterfeits: Doria, here A Lady begs you, whom if you refuse, The times would blacke you with the hatefull title Of your owne wilfull murther; take her to you And live a fortunate husband. Noble maid, my misery is so extreame a sinne, It cannot meet your bounty without breach Of vowes; which should I violate, would pull Eternall torments on me; keep your beauty For one whose soule, free as the ayre he breaths, Can yield a mutuall fancy to your flame, And not destroy his honour, for your goodnesse Since my expir'd date, cannot yield you thanks Worthy the bound lesse merit of your love, If there can be a gratitude after death Express'd by prayers, my soule in heaven shall pay it To your kind charity. Oh my Lord, I did expect this answer, my poore worth Cannot deserve your value; yet there is A constant purity in my thoughts, that intend you So much of Blisse, that had your safety no Dependance on my suit, it would be deem'd Most cruell to contemne me, I have lov'd you These many yeares; wish'd you as many glories As I have number'd dayes, have vow'd I never Will marry any man, but your blest selfe my Lord, Should you neglect the justnesse of my request, Besides the danger waiting on your life, A thousand Virgins, whose unspotted prayers Like hosts of guardian Angels, would have borne You on their wings to heaven, will for my sake Convert their zeale to curses, and in teares Of anguish drowne your memory. Why friend, this is Such an o're-weening passion, as does question The soundnesse of your judgement, fills the world With a conceit you dye; because your feares Dare not accept of life: Besides your Mistris, To whom you would so strictly keepe your faith, Does so much scorne your constancy, that no Entreats could move her pitty undertake This honourable imployment. Doe it with speedy diligence. Her causelesse frailty Shall more confirme my truth: My Noble Lord pronounce My happy sentence, 'twill be welcome to me As charming harmony, and swell my brest With more than humane pleasure. Are you come? approach, Behold this Executioner, and this Priest, This is to wed you to destruction, that To this rich Mine of purity: your choyse May accept either: if you fixe on this, Besides your owne redemption, you enjoy A Lady, who may clayme as many hearts As she has vertuous thoughts; but leane to that, Your Spring returnes unpittyed, to the rude Armes of perpetuall winter, that will freeze you To a ne're melting isicle, be suddaine, And wise in your election.