Anonymous · published 1607 · first performed or written 1592 [c.1592-1594] (Annals) comedy · Unknown T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.82 · 466 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
And for to honour him and his fair bride. I'll yearly send you from your father's court, Chests of refined sugar severally, Ten tun of tunis wine, sucket, sweet drugs, To celebrate and solemnize this day, And custom-free, your merchants shall commerce And interchange the profits of your land, Sending you gold for brass, silver for lead, Casses of silk for packs of will and cloth, To bind this friendship and confirm this league. I am glad sir that you would be so frank Are you become the Duke of Cestus' son, And revels with my treasure in the town, Base villain that thus dishonerest me? Sounes it is the Duke, what shall I do? Dishonour thee? why know'st thou what thou sayst? Her's no villain: he will not know me now, But what say you? have you forgot me too? Why sir, are you acquainted with my son? With thy son? no trust me, if he be thine, I pray you sir, who am I? Pardon me father, humbly on my knees I do entreat your grace to hear me speak. Peace villain, lay hands on th●●, And send them to prison strait. I say we'll have no ●●nding to prison. My Lord this is but the play, the'y'r but in jest. I tell thee Sim we'll have no sending, To prison that's flat: why Sim, am not I Don Christo Vari? Therefore I say, they shall not go to prison. No more they shall not, my Lord, They be run away. Are they run away Sim? that's well, Then gis some more drink, and let them play again. Here my Lord. drinks and then falls asleep. Ah treacherous boy that durst presume, To wed thyself without thy father's leave, I swear by fair Cinthia's burning rays, By Merops' head, and by seven mouthed Nile, Had I but known ere thou hadst wedded her, Were in thy breast the world's immortal soul, This Angry sword should rip thy hateful chest, And hewed thee smaller than the Libyan sands, Turn hence thy face, oh cruel impious boy. I did not think you would presume, To match your daughter with my princely house, And ne'er make me acquainted with the cause. My Lord, by heavens I swear unto your grace, I knew none other but Valeria your man, Had been the Duke of Cestus' noble son, Nor did my daughter I dare swore for her. That damned villain that hath deluded me, Whom I did send for guide unto my son, Oh that my furious force could cleave the earth, That I might muster bands of hellish fiends, To rack his heart and tear his impious soul. The ceaseless turning of celestial orbs, Kindles not greater flames in flitting air, Then passionate anguish of my raging breast.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1198–1257 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 21 of 25 in this edition
Length
466 words · 621 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T0 — Court life: dukes, favour and honourcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.822 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
And for to honor him and his faire bride. Ile yeerely ſend you from your fathers court, Cheſts of refind ſugar ſeuerally, Ten tun of tunis wine, ſucket, ſweet drugs, To celebrate and ſolemnize this day, And cuſtom-free, your marchants ſhal commerce And interchange the profits of your land, Sending you gold for braſſe, ſiluer for lead, Caſſes of ſilke for packes of wol and cloth, To bind this friendſhip and confirme this league. I am glad ſir that you would be ſo franke Are you become the Duke of Ceſtus ſon, And reuels with my treaſure in the towne, Baſe villaine that thus diſhonereſt me? Sounes it is the Duke, what ſhall I do? Diſhonor thee? why knowſt thou what thou ſaiſt? Her's no villaine: he will not know me now, But what ſay you? haue you forgot me too? Why ſir, are you acquainted with my ſon? With thy ſon? no truſt me, if he be thine, I pray you ſir, who am I? Pardon me father, humbly on my knees I do intreat your grace to heare me ſpeake. Peace villaine, lay hands on th, And ſend them to priſon ſtraight. I ſay weele haue no nding to priſon. My Lord this is but the play, the'yre but in ieſt. I tel thee Sim weele haue no ſending, To priſon thats flat: why Sim, am not I Don Chriſto Vari? Therefore I ſay, they ſhal not goe to priſon. No more they ſhal not, my Lord, They be runne away. Are they run away Sim? thats wel, Then gis ſome more drinke, and let them play againe. Here my Lord. drinkes and then fals aſleepe. Ah trecherous boy that durſt preſume, To wed thy ſelfe without thy fathers leaue, I ſweare by faire Cintheas burning raies, By Merops head, and by ſeuen mouthed Nile, Had I but known ere thou hadſt wedded her, Were in thy breſt the worlds immortal ſoule, This Angry ſworde ſhould rip thy hateful cheſt, And hewd thee ſmaller then the Libian ſandes, Turne hence thy face, oh cruel impious boy. I did not thinke you would preſume, To match your daughter with my princely houſe, And ne'r make mee acquainted with the cauſe. My Lord, by heauens I ſweare vnto your grace, I knew none other but Valeria your man, Had bin the Duke of Ceſtus noble ſon, Nor did my daughter I dare ſware for her. That damned villaine that hath deluded me, Whom I did ſend for guide vnto my ſon, Oh that my furious force could cleaue the earth, That I might muſter bands of helliſh feends, To racke his heart and teare his impious ſoule. The ceaſeleſſe turning of celeſtial orbes, Kindles not greater flames in flitting aire, Then paſsionate anguiſh of my raging breſt.