The Trial of Chivalry (This Gallant Cavaliero Dick Bowyer) · chunk 14 of 38
Anonymous · published 1605 · first performed or written 1601 [1599-1604] (Annals) romance · Derby's (Strange's) Men unassigned nearest T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Or force that sparkling beauty from your face. Look not so fiercely, nor cry out for help: For if you do, this makes you cry your last. Sing neither words, kind letters, hearty sighs, Humble entreaty, nor a world of pain, Can move you to take pity of my love: But Tyrantlike, your beauty seeks my life, I will blot out that beauty with this juice. Thus, thus I wipe away my passions: Thus do I heal the torments of my love: Thus do I ransom my enthralled eye, And by depriving of the cause of life, Kill th' effect, which was a world of sorrow. Farewell, foul Bellamira, I am pleased In this revenge, that no way could be eased. Zounds, he has done't: now, Rodorick, joy thy fill. Bourbon is thine, the Dukedom is thine own: For only he in the Inheritance Stood as an obstacle, to let my claim. This deed of his will take away his life: And then let me alone to enjoy his land. I'll steal away unseen, cause unsuspected: I would not for the world be once detected. Poison my face! oh most inhuman wretch! Revenge more vile, than to abridge my life. What, Thomasin, what, brother Ferdinand: My kingly father: is there none that hears? Then Treason, treason, let that waken you: For capital is this offence to me. O Iesu, mistress, what ails your face! Her face! 'tis spotted like a panther's skin. O, were those spots as kindly beautiful, Then were fair Bellamira undeformed. O, what divine power hath sent this Leprosy? Say, beauteous sister. Speak, fair Bellamira. Speak, my good mistress. My sweet daughter, speak. Her silence argues a tormented spirit. Thy countenance argues a deceitful soul. Where is Navarre? Where is fair Bellamira? My Philip, oh give leave to fly his sight. Stay, gentle daughter, he'll not injure thee. Here are the Articles concluded on, I could not rest, till I had signed them, And brought them to your Highness. A month hence The marriage shall be fully solemnized, So please your Majesty and your fair daughter: Are you content? To live in discontent. methinks, this royal presence hath dim looks: Is it because they are in the arms of night, Which sets a leaden lustre on the eye? Or hath some accident accosted them, That troubles their aspect with melancholy? Is Navarre well? is Ferdinando well? Is Pembroke well? Is Bellamira well? O, where is Bellamira? tell me, Princes, For now my tongue hath struck upon her name. I feel a kind of killing ecstasy. Where is she? in her Tent? Deny me, father, I would not see Prince Philip with this face. Why speak you not? what, have I touched the string, Whereon the burden of your sorrow lies? Father, look round about, see you my love? Roderick, look round about, see you my love? I see her not. Nor I.
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)
Or force that ſparkling beauty from your face. Looke not ſo fiercely, nor cry out for helpe: For if you doe, this makes you cry your laſt. Seing neyther words, kind letters, hearty ſighes, Humble intreaty, nor a world of payne, Can moue you to take pitty of my loue: But Tyrant-like, your beauty ſeeks my life, I will blot out that beauty with this iuice. Thus, thus I wipe away my paſſions: Thus doe I heale the torments of my loue▪ Thus doe I ranſome my inthralled eye, And by depriuing of the cauſe of life, Kill th' effect, which was a world of ſorrow. Farewell, foule Bellamira, I am pleaſde In this reuenge, that no way could be eaſde. Zounds, he has don't: now, Rodorick, ioy thy fill. Burbon is thine, the Dukedome is thine owne: For onely he in the Inheritance Stood as an obſtacle, to let my clayme. This deed of his will take away his life: And then let me alone to inioy his land. Ile ſteale away vnſeene, cauſe vnſuſpected: I would not for the world be once detected. Poyſon my face! oh moſt inhumane wretch! Reuenge more vile, then to abbridge my life. What, Thomaſin, what, brother Ferdinand: My kingly father: is there none that heares? Then Treaſon, treaſon, let that waken you: For capitall is this offence to me. O Ieſu, miſtris, what ayles your face! Her face! Tis ſpotted like a Panthers skin. O, were thoſe ſpots as kindly beautifull, Then were fayre Bellamira vndeform'd. O, what diuine power hath ſent this Leproſy? Say, beautious ſiſter. Speake, fayre Bellamira. Speake, my good miſtris. My ſweet daughter, ſpeake. Her ſilence argues a tormented ſpirit. Thy countenance argues a deceitful ſoule. Where is Nauar? Where is fayre Bellamira? My Philip, oh giue leaue to fly his ſight. Stay, gentle daughter, heele not iniure thee. Heere are the Articles concluded on, I could not reſt, till I had ſigned them, And brought them to your Highneſſe. A moneth hence The mariage ſhall be fully ſolemnized, So pleaſe your Maieſty and your fayre daughter: Are you content? To liue in diſcontent. Me thinks, this royall preſence hath dim lookes: Is it becauſe they are in the armes of night, Which ſets a leaden luſtre on the eye? Or hath ſome accident occoaſted them, That troubles their aſpect with melancholy? Is Nauar well? is Ferdinando well? Is Pembrooke well? Is Bellamira well? O, where is Bellamira? tell me, Princes, For now my tongue hath ſtrook vpon her name. I feele a kind of killing extaſie. Where is ſhe? in her Tent? Deny me, father, I would not ſee Prince Philip with this face. Why ſpeak you not? what, haue I toucht the ſtring, Whereon the burden of your ſorrow lyes? Father, looke round about, ſee you my loue? Rodoricke, looke round about, ſee you my loue? I ſee her not. Nor I.