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 · 488 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
In troth 'tis true too! Then let's set by the judges And fall to the Officers, 'tis but mistaking The Duke our father's meaning, and where he named, Ere many days, 'tis but forgetting that And, have him die i'th' morning. Excellent, Then am I heir— Duke in a minute. Nay, And he were once puff out, here is a pin. Should quickly prick your bladder. Blast occasion, He being packed, we'll have some trick and wile, To wind our younger brother out of prison, That lies in for the Rape, the Ladies dead, And people's thoughts will soon be buried. We may with safety do't, and live and feed, The Duchess-sons are too proud to bleed, We are i'faith to say true.— come let's not linger I'll to the Officers, go you before, And set an edge upon the Executioner. Let me alone to grind him. Meet; farewell, I am next now, I rise just in that place, Where thou'rt cut of, upon thy Neck kind brother, The falling of one head, lifts up another. My Lords? I am so much indebted to your loves, For this, O this delivery. But our duties, my Lord, unto the hopes that grow in you, If ere I live to be myself i'll thank you, O liberty thou sweet and heavenly Dame; But hell for prison is too mild a name. Officers? here's the Duke's signet, your firm warrant, Brings the command of present death along with it Unto our brother, the Duke's son; we are sorry, That we are so unnaturally employed In such an unkind Office, fitter far For enemies than brothers. But you know, The Duke's command must be obeyed. It must and shall my Lord— this morning then, So suddenly? I alas poor-goodsoul, He must break fast betimes, the executioner Stands ready to put forth his cowardly valour. Already? Already ifath, O sir, destruction hies, And that is least Impudent, soonest dies, Troth you say true my Lord we take our leaves, Our Office shall be sound, we'll not delay, The third part of a minute. I herein you show. yourselves good men, and upright officers, Pray let him die as private as he may, Do him that favour, for the gaping people. Will but trouble him at his prayers, And make him curse, and swear, and so die black. Will you be so far Kind? It shall be done my Lord. Why we do thank you, if we live to be, You shall have a better office, Your good Lordship, Commend us to the scaffold in our tears. we'll weep and do your commendations, Fine fools in office! Things fall our so fit. So happily, come brother ere next clock, His head will be made serve a bigger block. Keeper. My Lord. No news lately from our brothers? Are they unmindful of us? My Lord a messenger came newly in and brought this from 'em,
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)
In troth tis true too! Then lets set by the Iudges And fall to the Officers, tis but mistaking The Duke our fathers meaning, and where he nam'd, Ere many daies, tis but forgetting that And, haue him die i'th morning. Excellent, Then am I heire—Duke in a minute. Nay, And he were once puffe out, here is a pinne. Should quickly prick your bladder. Blast occasion, He being packt, weele haue some trick and wile, To winde our yonger brother out of prison, That lies in for the Rape, the Ladies dead, And peoples thoughts will soone be buried. We may with safty do't, and liue and feede, The Duchesse-sonnes are too proud to bleed, We are yfaith to say true.—come let's not linger Ile to the Officers, go you before, And set an edge vpon the Executioner. Let me alone to grind him. Meete; farewell, I am next now, Irise just in that place, Where thou'rt cut of, vpon thy Neck kind brother, The falling of one head, lifts vp another. My Lords? I am so much indebted to your loues, For this, O this deliuery. But our dueties, my Lord, vnto the hopes that growe in you, If ere I liue to be my selfe ile thanke you, O liberty thou sweete and heauenly Dame; But hell for pryson is too milde a name. Officers? heres the Dukes signet, your firme warrant, Brings the command of present death a long with it Vnto our brother, the Dukes sonne; we are sory, That we are so vnnaturally employde In such an vnkinde Office, fitter farre For enemies then brothers. But you know, The Dukes command must be obayde. It must and shal my Lord—this morning then, So suddainely? I alasse poore-good-soule, Hee must breake fast betimes, the executioner Stands ready to put forth his cowardly valour. Already? Already ifath, O sir, destruction hies, And that is least Impudent, soonest dyes, Troth you say true my Lord we take our leaues, Our Office shall be sound, weele not delay, The third part of a minute. I herein you showe. Your selues good men, and vpright officers, Pray let him die as priuat as he may, Doe him that fauour, for the gaping people. Will but trouble him at his prayers, And make him curse, and sweare, and so die black. Will you be so far Kind? It shall be done my Lord. Why we do thanke you, if we liue to be, You shall haue a better office, Your good Lord-shippe, Commend vs to the scaffold in our teares. Weele weepe and doe your commendations, Fine fooles in office! Things fall our so fit. So happily, come brother ere next clock, His head will be made serue a bigger block. Keeper. My Lord. No newes lately from our brothers? Are they vnmindfull of vs? My Lord a messenger came newly in and brought this from 'em,