Middleton, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.80 · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Well I must suit my tongue to his desires, What colour soe'er they be; hoping at last To pile up all my wishes on his breast, Faith Brother he himself shows the way. Now the Duke is dead, the realm is clad in clay: His death being not yet known, under his name The people still are governed; well, thou his son Art not long-lived, thou shalt not joy his death: To kill thee then, I should most honour thee; For 'twould stand firm in every man's belief, Thou'st a kind child, and only diedst with grief. You fetch about well, but let's talk in present, How will you appear in fashion different, As well as in apparel, to make all things possible: If you be but once tripped, we fall for ever. It is not the least policy to be doubtful, You must change tongue:— familiar was your first. Why I'll bear me in some strain of melancholy, And string myself with heavy— sounding Wire, Like such an Instrument, that speaks merry things sadly. Then 'tis as I meant, I gave you out at first in discontent. I'll turn myself, and then— 'sfoot here he comes: hast thought upon't. Salute him, fear not me. Hippolito. Your Lordship. What's he yonder? 'tis Vindici, my discontented Brother, Whom, 'cording to your will i'ave brought to Court. Is that thy brother? beshrew me, a good presence, I wonder h'as been from the Court so long? Come nearer. Brother, Lord Lussurioso the Duke son. Be more near to us, welcome, nearer yet. How don you? god you god den. We thank thee? How strangely such a course-homely salute, Shows in the Palace, where we greet in fire: Nimble and desperate tongues, should we name, God in a salutation, 'twould near be stood on't,- heaven! Tell me, what has made thee so melancholy. Why, going to Law. Why will that make a man melancholy? Yes, to look long upon ink and black buckram— I went me to law in Anno Quadragesimo secundo, and I waded out of it, in Anno sextagesimo tertio. What, three and twenty years in law? I have known those that have been five and fifty and all about pullen and Pigs. May it be possible such men should breathe, To vex the Terms so much. 'tis food to some my Lord. There are old men at the present, that are so poisoned with the affectation of law-words, (having had many suits canvased,) that their common talk is nothing but Barbery lattin: they cannot so much as pray, but in law, that their sins may be removed, with a writ of Error, and their souls fetched up to heaven, with a sasarara. It seems most strange to me, Yet all the world meets round in the same bent: Where the hearts set, there goes the tongue's consent, How dost apply thy studies fellow?
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)
Well I must suite my toung to his desires, What colour so ere they be; hoping at last To pile vp all my wishes on his brest, Faith Brother he himselfe showes the way. Now the Duke is dead, the realme is clad in claye: His death being not yet knowne, vnder his name The people still are gouernd; well, thou his sonne Art not long-liu'd, thou shalt not ioy his death: To kill thee then, I should most honour thee; For twould stand firme in euery mans beliefe, Thou'st a kinde child, and onely dyedst with griefe. You fetch about well, but lets talke in present, How will you appeare in fashion different, As well as in apparrell, to make all things possible: If you be but once tript, wee fall for euer. It is not the least pollicie to bee doubtfull, You must change tongue:—familiar was your first. Why Ile beare me in some straine of melancholie, And string my selfe with heauy—sounding Wyre, Like such an Instrument, that speakes merry things sadly. Then tis as I meant, I gaue you out at first in discontent. Ile turne my selfe, and then— Sfoote here he comes: hast thought vppont. Salute him, feare not me. Hippolito. Your Lordship. What's he yonder? Tis Vindici, my discontented Brother, Whom, cording to your will l'aue brought to Court. Is that thy brother? beshrew me, a good presence, I wonder h'as beene from the Court so long? Come neerer. Brother, Lord Lussurioso the Duke sonne. Be more neere to vs, welcome, neerer yet. How don you? god you god den. We thanke thee? How strangly such a course-homely salute, Showes in the Pallace, where we greete in fire: Nimble and desperate tongues, should we name, God in a salutation, twould neere be stood on't,-heauen! Tell me, what has made thee so melancholy. Why, going to Law. Why will that make a man mellancholy? Yes, to looke long vpon inck and black buckrom—I went mee to law in Anno Quadragesimo secundo, and I waded out of it, in Anno sextagesimo tertio. What, three and twenty years in law? I haue knowne those that haue beene fiue and fifty and all about Pullin and Pigges. May it bee possible such men should breath, To vex the Tearmes so much. Tis foode to some my Lord. There are olde men at the present, that are so poysoned with the affectatiō of law-words, (hauing had many suites canuast,) that their common talke is nothing but Barbery lattin: they cannot so much as pray, but in law, that their sinnes may be remou'd, with a writ of Error, and their soules fetcht vp to heauen, with a sasarara. It seemes most strange to me, Yet all the world meetes round in the same bent: Where the hearts set, there goes the tongues consent, How dost apply thy studies fellow?