The Tragedy of Charles Duke of Byron · chunk 16 of 37
Chapman, George · published 1608 · first performed or written 1608 [1607-1608] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Queen's Revels T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an typicality 0.75 · 532 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
See see, not one of them will cast a glance At our eclipsed faces; They keep all to cast in admiration on the King: For from his face are all their faces moulded. But when a change comes; we shall see them all Changed into water, that will instantly Give look for look, as if it watched to greet us; Or else for one, they'll give us twenty faces, Like to the little specks on sides of glasses; Is't not an easy loss to lose their looks, Whose hearts so soon are melted? But methinks, (Being Courtiers) they should cast best looks on men, When they thought worst of them. O no my Lord, They ne'er dissemble but for some advantage; They sell their looks, and shadows; which they rate After their markets, kept beneath the State; Lord what foul weather their aspects do threaten? See in how grave a Brake he sets his vizard: Passion of nothing; See, an excellent gesture: Now Courtship goes a ditching in their foreheads; And we are fallen into those dismal ditches; Why even thus dreadfully would they be rapt, If the Kings buttered eggs, were only spilled. Lord Chancellor; I my Lord; And lord Vidame: And not Byron? here's a prodigious change; He cast no Beam on you; Why now you see From whence their countenances were copied. See, here comes some news, I believe my Lord. What says the honest captain of my guard? I bring a letter from a friend of yours. 'tis welcome then: Have we yet any friends? More than ye would I think: I never saw, Men in their right minds so unrighteous In their own causes. See what thou hast brought, He will us to retire ourselves my Lord, And makes as if it were almost too late, What says my captain; shall we go or no? I would your dagger's point had kissed my heart, When you resolved to come. I pray the why? Yet, doth that senseless apoplexy dull you? The devil or your wicked angel blinds you, Bereaving all your reason of a man And leaves you but the spirit of a horse, In your brute nostrils: only power to dare. Why, dost thou think, my coming here hath brought me To such an unrecoverable danger? Judge by the strange Ostents that have succeeded, Since your arrival: the kind fowl, the wild duck, That came into your cabinet, so beyond The sight of all your servants, or yourself: That flew about, and on your shoulder sat And which you had so fed, and so attended; For that dumb love she showed you; just as soon, As you were parted, on the sudden died. And to make this no less than an Ostent; Another that hath fortuned since, confirms it: Your goodly horse Pastrana, which the Archduke, Gave you at Brussels; in the very hour, You left your strength, fel-mad, and killed himself; ●●e like chanced to the horse the great duke sent you: and, with both these, the horse the duke of Lorraine, Sent you at, Vinsie made a third presage, Of some Inevitable fate that touched you, Who like the other pined away and died,
seed 43: T14 · seed 44: T9 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
See see, not one of them will cast a glaunce At our eclipsed faces; They keepe all to cast in admiration on the King: For from his face are all their faces moulded. But when a change comes; we shall see them all Chang'd into water, that will instantly Giue looke for looke, as if it watcht to greete vs; Or else for one, they'l giue vs twenty faces, Like to the little specks on sides of glasses; Is't not an easie losse to lose theyr lookes, Whose hearts so soone are melted? But me thinks, (Being Courtiers) they should cast best looks on men, When they thought worst of them. O no my Lord, They n'ere dissemble but for some aduantage; They sell theyr looks, and shadowes; which they rate After theyr markets, kept beneath the State; Lord what foule weather theyr aspects do threaten? See in how graue a Brake he sets his vizard: Passion of nothing; See, an excellent Iesture: Now Courtship goes a ditching in theyr fore-heads; And we are falne into those dismall ditches; Why euen thus dreadfully would they be rapt, If the Kings butterd egges, were onely spilt. Lord Chancellor; I my Lord; And lord Vidame: And not Byron? here's a prodigious change; He cast no Beame on you; Why now you see From whence theyr countenances were copyed. See, here comes some newes, I beleeue my Lord. VVhat saies the honest captaine of my guard? I bring a letter from a friend of yours. Tis welcome then: Haue we yet any friends? More then yee would I thinke: I neuer saw, Men in their right mindes so vnrighteous In their owne causes. See what thou hast brought, Hee wills vs to retire our selues my Lord, And makes as if it were almost too late, What saies my captaine; shall we goe or no? I would your daggers point had kist my heart, When you resolu'd to come. I pray the why? Yet, doth that sencelesse Apopelxy dull you? The diuell or your wicked angell blinds you, Bereauing all your reason of a man And leaues you but the spirit of a horse, In your brute nostrills: onely powre to dare. VVhy, dost thou think, my comming here hath brought me To such an vnrecouerable danger? Iudge by the strange Otents that haue succeeded, Since your arriuall: the kinde fowle, the wilde duck, That came into your cabinet, so beyond The sight of all your seruants, or your selfe: That flew about, and on your shoulder sat And which you had so fed, and so attended; For that dum loue she shew'd you; iust as soone, As you were parted, on the sodaine died. And to make this no lesse then an Oftent; Another that hath fortun'd since, confirmes it: Your goodly horse Pastrana, which the Archduke, Gaue you at Bruxells; in the very houre, You left your strength, fel-mad, and kild himselfe; e like chanc't to the horse the great duke sent you: nd, with both these, the horse the duke of Lorraine, Sent you at, Vinsie made a third presage, Of some Ineuitable fate that toucht you, Who like the other pin'd away and died,