Markham, Gervase / Machin, Lewis · published 1608 · first performed or written 1608 [1607-1608] (Annals) tragicomedy · Children of the King's Revels unassigned nearest T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour · 487 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Who are your combatants? we love equality. This is the first, the Epire duke, a man, Sprung from the line, of famous Scanderbag: The next Alphonso, sprung from noble blood: Who laden with rich lusitanian prize, Hath rod through Syracuse twice in pomp. Their like to the motion. They are like wrath, Never unarmed to beat weak injury. Nay more, we are the sons of destiny: virtue's our guide, our aim is dignity. 'Sfoot king, shalt not forsake them: this I see, Love, fight, and death, are ruled by destiny. My spirit speaks thy motion. Madame, although advantage might evade, And give my love more hope, yet my bend will, Bowed to your pleasure, doth embrace your law, We do accept the combat, and ourself Will with that Duke try fortunes, this my friend, The more part of myself, me dearest Philocles, One of an angel's temper, shall with that that Lord Try best and worst the place, the time, the sword. They are your rights, we claim as challengers. And we would lose that vantage, but since fame Makes virtue dulat, we embrace our rights: The place before these walls, the hour next sun, The pole-axe and the hand axe for the fight. It is enough, My hostage is my person and my love: And mine my hope, my faith and royalty. They are of poise sufficient, and one light Shall at one instant, give us day and night. she's gone my Philocles: and as she goes even so, The sun forsakes the heavens to kiss the sea, Day in her beauty leaves us, and methinks, Her absence doth exile all happiness. Tell me my Philocles, nay pray thee tell me true, Even from that love Which to us both should bend one sympathy: Discharge an open breast, dost thou not think, She is the mirror of her beauteous sex? Unparalleled, and uncompanioned. Envy will say she's rare, than truth must vow, She is beyond compare, sith in her looks, Each motion hath a speaking majesty, She is herself, compared with herself: For but herself, she hath no companion. But when I think of beauty, wit and grace, The elements of active delicacy, Those all eye-pleasing harmonies of sight Which do enchant men's fancies, and stir up The life blood of dull earth, O then methinks, Fair Mariana hath an equal place And if not outshine, it shows more beautiful. More than my Queen? More in the gloss of beauty, less in worth, Of wisdom and great thoughts, the one I find was made for wonder, th'other for admire. Thine equal praises makes my facnies rich: And I am pleased with thy comparisons, Things of like nature live in best consent, Beauty with subjects, majesty with Kings, Then let those two ideas lively move, Spirit beyond all spirit, in our breasts, That in the end of our great victory, we may attain both love and majesty.
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)
Who are your combatants? we loue equality. This is the first, the Epyre duke, a man, Sprung from the line, of famous Scanderbag: The next Alphonso, sprung from noble bloud: Who laden with rich lusitanian prize, Hath rod through Syracusa twice in pompe. Their likings to the motion. They are like wrath, Neuer vnarmd to beat weake iniury. Nay more, we are the sonnes of destiny: Vertu's our guide, our ayme is dignity. S'foot king, shalt not forsake them: this I see, Loue, fight, and death, are rul'd by destiny. My spirit speakes thy motion. Madame, although aduantage might euade, And giue my loue more hope, yet my bent will, Bowd to your pleasure, doth imbrace your lawe, We do accept the combate, and our selfe Will with that Duke try fortunes, this my friend, The more part of my selfe, me deerest Philocles, One of an Angels temper, shall with that that Lord Trie best and worst the place, the time, the sword. They are your rights, we claime as challengers. And we would lose that vantage, but since fame Makes vertue dulat, we embrace our rights: The place before these walles, the houre next sunne, The pollax and the hand axe for the fight. It is enough, My hostage is my person and my loue: And mine my hope, my faith and royalty. They are of poysse sufficient, and one light Shall at one instant, giue vs day and night. Shee's gone my Philocles: and as she goes euen so, The sunne forsakes the heauens to kisse the sea, Day in her beauty leaues vs, and methinkes, Her absence doth exile all happines. Tell me my Philocles, nay pray thee tell me true, Euen from that loue Which to vs both should bend one sympathy: Discharge an open breast, dost thou not thinke, She is the mirror of her beauteous sexe? Vnparalleld, and vncompanioned. Enuy will say shee's rare, then truth must vow, She is beyond compare, sith in her lookes, Each motion hath a speaking maiesty, She is herselfe, compared with her selfe: For but her selfe, she hath no companion. But when I thinke of beauty, wit and grace, The elements of actiue delicacy, Those all eie-pleasing harmonies of sight Which do inchant mens fancies, and stir vp The life bloud of dull earth, O then methinkes, Faire Mariana hath an equall place And if not outshine, it shewes more beautifull. More then my Queene? More in the glosse of beauty, lesse in worth, Of wisedome and great thoughts, the one I finde was made for wonder, th'other for admire. Thine equall praises makes my facnies rich: And I am pleas'd with thy comparisons, Things of like nature liue in best consent, Beauty with subiects, maiesty with Kings, Then let those two Ideaes liuely moue, Spirit beyond all spirit, in our breasts, That in the end of our great victory, we may attaine both loue and maiesty.