Rutter, Joseph / Desfontaines, Nicolas-Marc · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1637-1639] (Annals) not in BritDrama unassigned nearest T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation · 480 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
Tell me Cimena and deal truly with me, What makes you thus disdain to be a Queen, Are the allurements of a Kingdom such As they can hardly touch, less charm your heart? No, I shall ne'er believe it, but must wonder At your refusal: do you think your Cid With all his fortune, and the best effects Of his great valour, can at any time Impale this fair head with a Diadem? That from the King alone you must expect Cid is as much a subject as thyself, And though he lift thy fortune to a height As great as any subjects, yet a thousand Will side with thee, when this my brother offers Will set thy beauties in a point to strike The gazer's eyes with envy, or amazement. Madam, 'tis true so great a PRINCE's love Might take another, though it cannot me, And the false lustre of a Sovereign greatness May dazzle any fond young virgin's eyes, But for my own direction i'll take less Of their ambition, more of modesty, And truly Madam, I shall never envy Her who enjoys the happiness you offer, The pomp of Thrones seems troublesome to me, My desires draw themselves within their compass, And look no higher than their proper reach: Equality does make the perfect match, Unequal persons render the link so weak That love can hardly make it hold together. I know Cimena thy great modesty, But let it not divert thee from a good Sent from the hand of Heaven, and a King. That power, which gave thee such rare parts, would never They should be straightened in a narrow fortune It knows this fore head's destined for a Crown Which to confirm, it makes a Monarch know That nought less than himself can suit thy merit Though Cid have heretofore made thee his Idol. Dost think his love's not subject unto change And that he must continue in his absence As a great soldier, so a faithful lover, Perhaps thy love may trouble him at present, Whilst his ambition grows up with his fortune: If e'er he gained his glorious name of Cid, He thought himself already worthy thee, Dost think his heart will stay in the same bounds, Now that all Spain, and other Nations Admire and fear his valour? ah Cimena Some thing persuades me that his hopes fly higher, A throne will be the certain rock whereon Thy so much boasted faith must find its Tomb. Oh heavens, how handsomely she would surprise me And ravish that from me herself would have! I without doubt she loves him; and I know She speaks more for herself then for the King: Madam, if Roder go leave Cimena To give his heart unto a nobler love, You shall perceive that she is one can suffer With as much ease his lightness, as his absence.
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)
TEll me Cimena and deal truly with me, What makes you thus diſdain to be a Queen, Are the allurements of a Kingdome ſuch As they can hardly touch, leſſe charm your heart? No, I ſhall nere believe it, but muſt wonder At your refuſall: do you think your Cid With all his fortune, and the beſt effects Of his great valour, can at any time Impale this faire head with a Diadem? That from the King alone you muſt expect Cid is as much a ſubject as thy ſelfe, And though he lift thy fortune to a height As great as any ſubjects, yet a thouſand Will ſide with thee, when this my brother offers Will ſet thy beauties in a point to ſtrike The gazers eyes with envy, or amazement. Madam, tis true ſo great a Princes love Might take another, though it cannot me, And the falſe luſtre of a Soveraigne greatneſſe May dazell any fond young Virgins eyes, But for my own direction ile take leſſe Of their ambition, more of modeſty, And truly Madam, I ſhall never envy Her who enjoyes the happineſſe you offer, The pomp of Thrones ſeems troubleſome to me, My deſires draw themſelves within their compaſſe, And look no higher then their proper reach: Equality does make the perfect match, Unequall perſons render the link ſo weak That love can hardly make it hold together. I know Cimena thy great modeſty, But let it not divert thee from a good Sent from the hand of Heaven, and a King. That power, which gave thee ſuch rare parts, would never They ſhould be ſtreightned in a narrow fortune It knows this fore head's deſtin'd for a Crown Which to confirme, it makes a Monarch know That nought leſſe then himſelfe can ſuite thy merit Though Cid have heretofore made thee his Idoll. Doſt think his love's not ſubject unto change And that he muſt continue in his abſence As a great ſouldier, ſo a faithfull lover▪ Perhaps thy love may trouble him at preſent, Whilſt his ambition grows up with his fortune▪ If ere he gain'd his glorious name of Cid, He thought himſelf already worthy thee, Doſt think his heart will ſtay in the ſame bounds, Now that all Spain, and other Nations Admire and feare his valour? ah Cimena Some thing perſwades me that his hopes fly higher, A throne will be the certain rock whereon Thy ſo much boaſted faith muſt finde its Tombe. Oh heavens, how handſomely ſhe would ſurprize me And raviſh that from me her ſelf would have! I without doubt ſhe loves him; and I know She ſpeaks more for herſelf then for the King: Madam, if Roder go leave Cimena To give his heart unto a nobler love, You ſhall perceive that ſhe is one can ſuffer With as much eaſe his lightneſſe, as his abſence.