A Looking Glass for London and England · chunk 19 of 39
Lodge, Thomas / Greene, Robert · published 1594 · first performed or written 1588 [1587-1588] (Annals) biblical play; moral · Derby's (Strange's) Men unassigned nearest T51 Parents and children: blessing, birthrig · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T51: esau, iacob, father, son, isaac, god, love, birthright, parents, thing.
Is this thy slender care to help our child? Hath nature armed thee to no more remorse? Ah cruel man, unkind, and pitiless, Come Clesiphon my boy, i'll beg for thee. Oh how my mother's mourning moveth me? Nay you shall pay me interest for getting the boy (wife) before you carry him hence. Alas woman what can Alcon do more? I'll pluck the belly out of my heart for thee swéete Samia, be not so waspish. Ah silly man I know thy want is great, And foolish I to crave where nothing is. Haste Alcon haste, make haste unto our son, Who since he is in favour of the King, May help this hapless Gentleman and us. For to regain our goods from tyrant's hands. Have patience Samia, weight your weal from heaven, though Gods have raised your son I hope for this, To secure innocents in their distress. Lo where he comes from the imperial Court, Go let us prostrate us before his feet. Nay by my troth, i'll never ask my son blessing, i trow, cha taught him his lesson to know his father, what son Radagon, i'faith boy how dost thee? Villain disturb me not, I cannot stay. Tut'sonne i'll help you of that disease quickly, for I can hold thee, ask thy mother knave what cunning I have to ease a woman when a qualm of kindness come too near her stomach? Let me but clasp mine arms about her body and say my prayers in her bosom, and she shall be healed presently. Traitor unto my Princely Majesty, How darest thou lay thy hands upon a King? No Traitor Radagon, but true is he, What hath promotion bleared thus thine eye, To scorn thy father when he visits thee? Alas my son behold with ruthful eyes, Thy parents robbed of all their worldly weal, By subtle means of Usury and guile, The judges ears are deaf and shut up close, All mercy sleeps, then be thou in these plunges A patron to thy mother in her pains, Behold thy brother almost dead for food, Oh secure us, that first did secure thee. What secure me, false callet hence avant? Old dotard pack, move not my patience, I know you not, Kings never look so low. You know us not. Oh Radagon you know, That knowing us, you know your parents then, Thou know'st this womb first brought thee forth to light, I know these paps did foster thee my son. And I know he hath had many a piece of bread & cheese at my hands, as proud as he is, that know I. I weight no hope of succours in this place, Where children hold their fathers in disgrace. Dare you enforce the furrows of revenge, Within the brows of royal Radagon? Villain avant, hence beggars with your brats, Marshal why whip you not these rogues away? That thus disturb our royal Majesty.
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)
Is this thy slender care to helpe our childe? Hath nature armde thée to no more remorse? Ah cruell man, vnkind, and pittilesse, Come Clesiphon my boy, ile beg for thée. Oh how my mothers mourning moueth me? Nay you shall paie mée interest for getting the boye (wife) before you carry him hence. Ah-lasse woman what can Alcon do more? Ile plucke the belly out of my heart for thée fwéete Samia, be not so waspish. Ah silly man I know thy want is great, And foolish I to craue where nothing is. Haste Alcon haste, make haste vnto our sonne, Who since he is in fauour of the King, May helpe this haplesse Gentleman and vs. For to regaine our goods from tyrants hands. Haue patience Samia, waight your weale from heauen, Tho Gods haue raisde your sonne I hope for this, To succour innocents in their distresse. Lo where he comes from the imperiall Court, Go let vs prostrate vs before his féete. Nay by my troth, ile neuer aske my sonne blessing, che trow, cha taught him his lesson to know his father, what sonne Radagon, yfaith boy how doest thée? Uillaine disturbe me not, I cannot stay. Tut'sonne ile helpe you of that disease quickly, for I can hold thée, aske thy mother knaue what cunning I haue to ease a woman when a qualme of kindnesse come too neare her stomacke? Let me but claspe mine armes about her bodie and saie my praiers in her bosome, and she shall be healed presently. Traitor vnto my Princely Maiestie, How dar'st thou laie thy hands vpon a King? No Traitor Radagon, but true is he, What hath promotion bleared thus thine eye, To scorne thy father when he visits thee? Ah-lasse my sonne behold with ruthfull eyes, Thy parents robd of all their worldly weale, By subtile meanes of Usurie and guile, The Iudges eares are deaffe and shut vp close, All mercie sléepes, then be thou in these plundges A patron to thy mother in her paines, Behold thy brother almost dead for foode, Oh succour vs, that first did succour thee. What succour me, false callet hence auant? Old dotard pack, moue not my patience, I know you not, Kings neuer looke so low. You know vs not. Oh Radagon you know, That knowing vs, you know your parents then, Thou knowst this wombe first brought thée forth to light, I know these paps did foster thée my sonne. And I know he hath had many a péece of bread & chéese at my hands, as proud as he is, that know I. I waight no hope of succours in this place, Where children hold their fathers in disgrace. Dare you enforce the furrowes of reuenge, Within the browes of royall Radagon? Uillaine auant, hence beggers with your brats, Marshall why whip you not these rogues away? That thus disturbe our royall Maiestie.