Peele, George / Shakespeare, William · published 1594 · first performed or written 1594 [Jan 23 (24); poss. written 1590-1592] (Annals) tragedy · Pembroke's Men (?) T60 Imperial Rome: rulers, favour and politi typicality 0.83 · 480 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T60: caesar, rome, emperor, empire, honour, lord, lucius, great, palsgrave, kings.
So Bascianus, you have played your prize, God give you joy sir of your gallant Bride. And you of yours my Lord, I say no more, Nor wish no less, and so I take my leave. Traitor, if Rome have law, or we have power, Thou and thy faction shall repent this Rape. Rape call you it my Lord to cease my own, My true betrothed love, and now my wife: But let the laws of Rome determine all, Mean while am I possessed of that is mine. 'tis good sir, you are very short with us. But if we live, we'll be as sharp with you. My Lord what I have done as best I may. Answer I must, and shall do with my life, Only thus much I give your Grace to know, By all the duties that I own to Rome, This Noble Gentleman Lord Titus here, Is in opinion and in honour wronged, That in the rescue of Lavinia, With his own hand did slay his youngest son, Inzeale to you, and highly moved to wrath, To be controwld in that he frankly gave. Receive him then to favour Saturnine, That hath expressed himself in all his deeds, A father and a friend to thee and Rome. Prince Bascianus leave to plead my deeds, 'tis thou, and those, that have dishonoured me, Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge, How I have loud and honoured Saturnine. My worthy Lord, if ever Tamora, Were gracious in those Princely eyes of thine, Then hear me speak indifferently for all: And at my suit (sweet) pardon what is past. What Madam be dishonoured openly, And basely put it up without revenge. Not so my Lord, the Gods of Rome forfend. I should be Author to dishonour you. But on mine honour dare I undertake, For good Lord Titus innocence in all, Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs: Then at my suit look graciously on him, Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose, Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart. My Lord: Be ruled by me, be won at last, Dissemble all your griefs and discontents, You are but newly planted in your Throne, Lest then the people, and Patricians too, Upon a just survey take Titus part, And so supplant you for ingratitude, Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin. Yield at entreats: and then let me alone, I'll find a day to massacre them all, And race their faction and their family, The cruel father, and his traitorous sons, To whom I sued for my dear sons life. And make them know what 'tis to let a Queen, Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain. Come, come sweet Emperor, (come Andronicus:) Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart, That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.
seed 43: T1 · seed 44: T2 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
So Bascianus, you haue plaid your prize, God giue you ioy sir of your gallant Bride. And you of yours my Lord, I say no more, Nor wish no lesse, and so I take my leaue. Traitor, if Rome haue law, or we haue power, Thou and thy faction shall repent this Rape. Rape call you it my Lord to ceaze my owne, My true betrothed loue, and now my wife: But let the lawes of Rome determine all, Meane while am I possest of that is mine. Tis good sir, you are verie short with vs. But if we liue, weele be as sharpe with you. My Lord what I haue done as best I may Answere I must, and shall doo with my life, Onely thus much I giue your Grace to know, By all the dueties that I owe to Rome, This Noble Gentleman Lord Titus here, Is in opinion and in honour wrongd, That in the rescue of Lauinia, VVith his owne hand did slay his youngest sonne, Inzeale to you, and highly moude to wrath, To be controwld in that he frankelie gaue. Receaue him then to fauour Saturnine, That hath exprest himselfe in all his deeds, A father and a friend to thee and Rome. Prince Bascianus leaue to pleade my deeds, Tis thou, and those, that haue dishonoured me, Rome and the righteous heauens be my iudge, How I haue loude and honoured Saturnine. My worthy Lord, if euer Tamora, VVere gratious in those Princelie eies of thine, Then heare me speake indifferently for all: And at my sute (sweete) pardon what is past. VVhat Madam be dishonoured openly, And baselie put it vp without reuenge. Not so my Lord, the Gods of Rome forfend. I should be Authour to dishonour you. But on mine honour dare I vndertake, For good Lord Titus innocence in all, VVhose furie not dissembled speakes his griefes: Then at my sute looke gratiouslie on him, Loose not so noble a friend on vaine suppose, Nor with sowre looks afflict his gentle hart. My Lord: Be rulde by me, be wonne at last, Dissemble all your griefes and discontents, You are but newlie planted in your Throne, Least then the people, and Patricians too, Vpon a iust suruay take Titus part, And so supplant you for ingratitude, VVhich Rome reputes to be a hainous sinne. Yeeld at intreats: and then let me alone, Ile find a day to massacre them all, And race their faction and their familie, The cruell father, and his traiterous sonnes, To whom I sued for my deare sonnes life. And make them know what tis to let a Queene, Kneele in the streets and begge for grace in vaine. Come, come sweete Emperour, (come Andronicus:) Take vp this good old man, and cheare the hart, That dies in tempest of thy angrie frowne.