Middleton, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T40 Sin, guilt and violent loss within famil · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
we must needs confess, Some father would have entered into hate, So deadly pointed, that before his eyes, He would ha' seen the execution sound, Without corrupted favour? But my Lord, Your Grace may live the wonder of all times, In pardoning that offence which never yet Had face to beg a pardon. Honey, how's this? Forgive him good my Lord, he's your own son, And I must needs say 'twas the vildlier done. he's the next heir— yet this true reason gathers, None can possess that dispossess their fathers: Be merciful;— Here's no Step-mothers-wit, I'll try 'em both upon their love and hate. Be merciful— although— You have prevailed, My wrath like flaming wax hath spent itself, I know 'twas but some peevish Moon in him: go, let him be released. 'sfoot how now Brother? Your Grace doth please to speak beside your spleen, I would it were so happy? Why go, release him. O my good Lord, I know the fault's too weighty, And full of general loathing; too inhuman, Rather by all men's voices worthy death. 'tis true too; here then, receive this signet, doom shall pass, Direct it to the judges, he shall die Ere many days, make haste. All speed that may be, We could have wished his burden not so sore, We knew your Grace did but delay before. Here's Envy with a poor thin cover or't, Like Scarlet hid in lawn, easily spied through, This their ambition by the Mother's side, Is dangerous, and for safety must be purged, I will prevent their envies, sure it was But some mistaken fury in our son, Which these aspiring boys would climb upon: He shall be released suddenly. Good morning to your Grace. Welcome my Lords. Our knees shall take away the office of our feet for ever, Unless your Grace bestow a father's eye, Upon the Clouded fortunes of your son, And in compassionate virtue grant him that, Which makes e'en mean men happy; liberty How seriously their loves and honours woo For that, which I am about to pray them do Which, rise my Lords, your knees sign his release, We freely pardon him. We owe your Grace much thanks, and he much duty. It well becomes that judge to nod at crimes, That does commit greater himself and lives: I may forgive a disobedient error, That expect pardon for adultery And in my old days am a youth in lust: Many a beauty have I turned to poison In the denial, covetous of all, Age hot, is like a Monster to be seen: My hairs are white, and yet my sins are Green. Brother, let my opinion sway you once, I speak it for the best, to have him die: Surest and soonest, if the signet come, Unto the judges hands, why then his doom, Will be deferred till sittings and Court-days: juries and further,— Faiths are bought and sold, Oaths in these days are but the skin of gold.
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)
Wee must needs confesse, Some father would haue enterd into hate, So deadly pointed, that before his eyes, Hee would ha seene the execution sound, Without corrupted fauour? But my Lord, Your Grace may liue the wonder of all times, In pardning that offence which neuer yet Had face to beg a pardon. Hunny, how's this? Forgiue him good my Lord, hee s your owne sonne, And I must needs say 'twas the vildlier done. Hee's the next heire—yet this true reason gathers, None can possesse that dispossesse their fathers: Be mercifull;— Here's no Step-mothers-wit, Ile trie 'em both vpon their loue and hate. Be mercifull—altho— You haue preuaild, My wrath like flaming waxe hath spent it selfe, I know 'twas but some peeuish Moone in him: goe, let him bee releasd. Sfoote how now Brother? Your Grace doth please to speake beside your spleene, I would it were so happy? Why goe, release him. O my good Lord, I know the fault's too weighty, And full of generall loathing; too inhumaine, Rather by all mens voyces worthy death. Tis true too; here then, receiue this signet, doome shall passe, Direct it to the Iudges, he shall dye Ere many dayes, make hast. All speed that may be, We could haue wisht his burthen not so sore, We knew your Grace did but delay before. Here's Enuie with a poore thin couer or't, Like Scarlet hid in lawne, easily spide through, This their ambition by the Mothers side, Is dangerous, and for safetie must be purgd, I will preuent their enuies, sure it was But some mistaken furie in our sonne, Which these aspiring boyes would climbe vpon: He shall bee releasde suddainly. Good morning to your Grace. Welcome my Lords. Our knees shall take away the office of our feete for euer, Vnlesse your Grace bestow a fathers eye, Vpon the Clouded fortunes of your sonne, And in compassionate vertue grant him that, Which makes e'en meane men happy; liberty How seriously their loues and honors woo For that, which I am about to pray them doo Which, rise my Lords, your knees signe his release, We freely pardon him. We owe your Grace much thankes, and he much duety. It well becomes that Iudge to nod at crimes, That dos commit greater himselfe and liues: I may forgiue a disobedient error, That expect pardon for adultery And in my old daies am a youth in lust: Many a beauty haue I turnd to poyson In the deniall, couetous of all, Age hot, is like a Monster to be seene: My haires are white, and yet my sinnes are Greene. Brother, let my opinion sway you once, I speake it for the best, to haue him die: Surest and soonest, if the signet come, Vnto the iudges hands, why then his doome, Will be deferd till sittings and Court-daies: Iuries and further,—Fayths are bought and sold, Oths in these daies are but the skin of gold.