Marston, John · published 1604 · first performed or written 1604 [1602-1604] (Annals) tragicomedy · Children of the Chapel (second) T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.83 · 510 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
It is to good, blessed spirit of my Lord: O in what or before thy soul is throne, Behold me worthily most miserable: O let the anguish of my contrite spirit, Entreat some reconciliation: If not, O joy! triumph in my just grief, Death is the end of woes, and tears relief. Belike your Lord not loved you, was unkind. O heaven, As the soul loved the body, so loved he, 'twas death to him to part my presence, Heaven to see me pleased: Yet I like to a wretch given over to hell, broke all the sacred rites of marriage, To clip a base ungentle faithless villain: O God, a very Pagan reprobate! What should I say, ungrateful throws me out, For whom I lost soul, body, fame, and honour: But 'tis most fit: why should a better fate Attend on any, who forsake chaste sheets, Fly the embrace of a devoted heart, Joined by a solemn vow sore God and man, To taste the brackish blood of beastly lust In an adulterous touch? Oh ravenous immodesty, Insatiate impudence of appetite: Look, here's your end, for mark what sap in dust, What sin in good, even so much love in lust: joy to thy ghost, sweet Lord, pardon to me. It is the Duke's pleasure this night you rest in court. Soul lurk in shades, run shame from brightsome skies, In night, the blind man misseth not his eyes. Do not weep kind cuckold, take comfort man, thy betters have been Beccos: Agamemnon Emperor of all the merry Greeks; that tickled all the true Trojans, was a Cornuto: Prince Arthur that cut off twelve Kings beards was a Cornuto: Hercules, whose back, bore up heaven, and got forty wenches with child in one night. Nay 'twas fifty. Faith forty's enough a conscience, yet was a Cornuto: patience, mischief grows proud, be wise. Thou pinchest too deep, art too keen upon me. Tut, a pitiful surgeon makes a dangerous sore. I'll tent thee to the ground. Thinkst I'll sustain myself by flattering thee, because thou art a Prince? I had rather follow a drunkard, and live by licking up his vomit, than by servile flattery. Yet great men ha' done't. Great slaves fear better than love, borne naturally for a coal-basket, though the common usher of PRINCE's presence fortune ha blindly given them better place, I am vowed to be thy affliction. Prithee be, I love much misery, and be thou son to me. Because you are an usurping Duke, Your Lordship's well returned for Florence. Well returned, I praise my horse. What news from the Florentines? I will conceal the great Duke's pleasure, only this was his charge, his pleasure is, that his daughter die, Duke Pietro be banished for banishing his bloods dishonour, and that Duke Altofront be reaccepted: this is all, but I hear Duke Pietro is dead. ay, and Mendozo is Duke, what will you do? Is Mendozo strongest? Yet he is. Then yet I'll hold with him. But if that Altofront should turn straight again?
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)
It is to good, blessed spirit of my Lord: O in what or befoere thy soule is throand, Behold me worthily most miserable: O let the anguish of my contrite spirite, Intreate some reconciliation: If not, O ioy! triumph in my iust griefe, Death is the end of woes, and teares reliefe. Belike your Lord not lou'd you, was vnkinde. O heauen, As the soule lou'd the body, so lou'd hee, Twas death to him to part my presence, Heauen to see me pleased: Yet I like to a wretch given ore to hell, Brake all the sacred rites of marriage, To clippe a base vngentle faithles villaine: O God, a very Pagan reprobate! What should I say, vngratefull throwes me out, For whom I lost soule, body, fame, and honor: But tis most fit: why should a better fate Attend on any, who forsake chaste sheetes, Flie the imbrace of a deuoted hart, Ioynd by a solemne vow sore God and man, To taste the brackish bloud of beastly lust In an adulterous touch? Oh rauenous immodesty, Insatiate impudence of appetite: Looke, heere' your end, for marke what sap in dust, What sinne in good, euen so much loue in lust: Ioy to thy ghost, sweete Lord, pardon to me. It is the Dukes pleasure this night you rest in court. Soule lurke in shades, run shame from brightsome skies, In night, the blind man misseth not his eies. Do not weep kind cuckold, take comfort man, thy betters haue beene Beccos: Agamemnon Emperour of all the merry Greekes; that tickled all the true Troyans, was a Cornuto: Prince Arthur that cut off twelue Kings beardes was a Cornuto: Hercules, whose backe, bore vp heauen, and got forty wenches with childe in one night. Nay twas fifty. Faith fortie's enow a conscience, yet was a Cornuto: patience, mischiefe growes prowde, be wise. Thou pinchest too deepe, art too keene vpon me. Tut, a pittifull surgeon makes a dangerous sore. Ile tent thee to the ground. Thinkst Ile sustaine my selfe by ttering thee, because thou art a Prince? I had rather follow a drunkard, and liue by licking vp his vomite, than by seruile flattery. Yet great men ha don't. Great slaues feare better than loue, borne naturally for a coale-basket, though the common ysher of princes presence fortune ha blindely giuen them better place, I am vow'd to be thy affliction. Prethee be, I loue much misery, and be thou sonne to me. Because you are an vsurping Duke, Your Lordship's well returnd for Florence. Well returnd, I praise my horse. What newes from the Florentines? I will conceale the great Dukes pleasure, onely this was his charge, his pleasure is, that his daughter die, Duke Pietro be banished for banishing his bloudes dishonor, and that Duke Altofront be reaccepted: this is all, but I heare Duke Pietro is dead. I, and Mendozo is Duke, what will you doe? Is Mendozo strongest? Yet he is. Then yet Ile hold with him. But if that Altofront should turne strait againe?