Middleton, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.85 · 503 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Most sure he did! Did he? lack,— you know all You were his midnight secretary. No. He was to wise to trust me with his thoughts. I'faith then father thou wast wise indeed, Wives are but made to go to bed and feed. Come mother, sister: you'll bring me onward brother? I will. I'll quickly turn into another. duchess it is your youngest son, we're sorry, His violent Act has e'en drawn blood of honour And stained our honours, Thrown ink upon the forehead of our state Which envious spirits will dip their pens into After our death; and blot us in our Tombs. For that which would seem treason in our lives Is laughter when we're dead, who dares now whisper That dares not then speak out, and e'en proclaim, With loud words and broad pens our closest shame. Your grace hath spoke like to your silver years Full of confirmed gravity;— for what is it to have, A flattering false insculption on a Tomb: And in men's hearts reproach, the bowelled Corpse, May be seared in, but with free tongue I speak, The faults of great men through their fierce clothes break, They do, we're sorry for't, it is our fate, To live in fear and die to live in hate, I leave him to your sentence doom him Lords The fact is great; whilst I sit by and sigh. My gracious Lord I pray be merciful, Although his trespass far exceed his years, Think him to be your own as I am yours, Call him not son in law: the law I fear Will fall too soon upon his name and him: Temper his fault with pity? Good my Lord. Then 'twill not taste so bitter and unpleasant Upon the judges palate, for offences Gilt over with mercy, show like fairest women, Good only for their beauties, which washed of: no sin is ouglies Ambitis I beseech your grace, Be soft and mild, let not Relentless Law, Look with an iron forehead on our brother. He yields small comfort yet, hope he shall die, And if a bastard's wish might stand in force, Would all the court were turn de into a corpse, No pity yet? must I rise fruitless then, A wonder in a woman; are my knees, Of such low— metal— that without Respect— Let the offender stand forth, 'tis the Duke's pleasure that Impartial Doom, Shall take first hold of his unclean attempt, A Rape! why 'tis the very core of lust, Double Adultery. So Sir. And which was worse, Committed on the Lord Antonio's wife, That General honest Lady, confess my Lord! What moved you to't? why flesh and blood my Lord. What should move men unto a woman else, O do not jest thy doom, trust not an axe Or sword too far; the Law is a wise serpent And quickly can beguile thee of thy life, Though marriage only has made thee my brother, I love thee so far, play not with thy Death,
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)
Most sure he did! Did he? lack,—you know all You were his mid-night secretary. No. He was to wise to trust me with his thoughts. Yfaith then father thou wast wise indeed, Wiues are but made to go to bed and feede. Come mother, sister: youle bring me onward brother? I will. Ile quickly turne into another. Duchesse it is your yongest sonne, we're sory, His violent Act has e'en drawne bloud of honor And staind ou honors, Throwne inck vpon the for-head of our state Which enuious spirits will dip their pens into After our death; and blot vs in our Toombes. For that which would seeme treason in our liues Is laughter when we're dead, who dares now whisper That dares not then speake out, and e'en proclaime, With lowd words and broad pens our closest shame. Your grace hath spoke like to your siluer yeares Full of confirmed grauity;—for what is it to haue, A flattering false insculption on a Toombe: And in mens hearts reproch, the boweld Corps, May be seard in, but with free tongue I speake, The faults of great men through their fearce clothes breake, They do, we're sory for't, it is our fate, To liue in feare and die to liue in hate, I leaue him to your sentance dome him Lords The fact is great; whilst I sit by and sigh. My gratious Lord I pray be mercifull, Although his trespasse far exceed his yeares, Thinke him to be your owne as I am yours, Call him not sonne in law: the law I feare Wil fal too soone vpon his name and him: Temper his fault with pitty? Good my Lord. Then twill not tast so bitter and vnpleasant Vpon the Iudges pallat, for offences Gilt ore with mercy, show like fayrest women, Good onely for their beauties, which washt of: no sin is ouglies Ambitis I beseech your grace, Be soft and mild, let not Relentlesse Law, Looke with an iron for-head on our brother. He yeelds small comfort yet, hope he shall die, And if a bastards wish might stand in force, Would all the court were turn de into a coarse, No pitty yet? must I rise fruitlesse then, A wonder in a woman; are my knees, Of such lowe—mettall—that without Respect— Let the offender stand forth, Tis the Dukes pleasure that Impartiall Doome, Shall take first hold of his vncleane attempt, A Rape! why tis the very core of lust, Double Adultery. So Sir. And which was worse, Committed on the Lord Antonioes wife, That Generall honest Lady, confesse my Lord! What mou'd you toot? why flesh and blood my Lord. What should moue men vnto a woman else, O do not iest thy doome, trust not an axe Or sword too far; the Law is a wise serpent And quickly can beguile thee of thy life, Tho marriage onely has made thee my brother, I loue thee so far, play not with thy Death,