If It Be Not Good, the Devil Is in It (If This Be Not a Good Play, the Devil Is in It) · chunk 7 of 44
Dekker, Thomas · published 1612 · first performed or written 1611 [1611-1612] (Annals) comedy · Queen Anne's Men · Red Bull T25 Kings, power and law: political sententi typicality 0.69 · 494 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
A Shalcan Tartar being my grandfather Men call me Shalkan Bohor. About the world My travails make a girdle (perfect round:) So that, what wonders Kings on earth ever found I know, and what I know, Is yours. Brave Helvetian, We give you thanks and welcome: your arrival▪ Is fair and to our wish, of those days Which Time sets down, to number up a week, Every day have we tasked; save only one, How in these courts of Kings (through which you have gone,) Do Princes waste their hours? How but in that, For which they are borne Kings? (Pleasure:) every man's aim, Is to his pleasure: only 'tis changed in name, That's all the difference; Are king's Tyrants? Blood Is then their pleasure: thirst they after wars! Ambition tickles them; that for which man most cares, Good or bad, 'tis his pleasure, and to gain it, His soul must compass it though hell restrain it▪ To this mark all men's thoughts, Creation drew, That all might strive for a thing, that's got by few: Who are those few but Kings? and 'tis fit they Should have it, because true pleasure does soon decay. How like you his counsel? Rarely. What ruffian's this? Bohor thou'st warmed our young blood; All cares of state; Shall that day sleep, to ourself we'll Saturday have, Pleasure (the slave of Kings shall then be our slave, Lords let there be a proclamation drawn, What man soever (strange or native borne,) Can feast our spleen, and heighten our delight, He shall have gold and be our favourite. Tilts, tourneys, masques, plays, dancing, drinking deep Tho ere noon all Naples lie dead-drunk asleep. How King? we'll have it so uncle. Down with that too. Print Saturday in great text letters. Well, well, it shall. Our swan turns crow, poisoned with one drop of gall. I'll have this proclamation forthwith drawn. And publish all the days. And Saturday. Especially that at large if you can in red, like a Dominical letter. Go see it done. My task. Why sigh you? Of six days would you not spare me one? Thine own laws from thine own mouth, we'll proclaim, if thine own words thou hear'st, be't thine own shame. Your long expected happiness is arrived, The princess of Calabria. Thou crownest me again▪ Dear uncle, honoured Lords, with our whole court Honour her hither; I am rapt with joy, And lost till I behold her: fetch me my love. I fear deep whirlpools though it run smooth above. To our worthy friend your welcomes. But pray Sir tell us, mean you that we indeed Shall have but one playing day through the whole week? All Iovinells, we'll be jovial all. Till Saturday came, we lived in terrible fear. Thank Bohor, who your dead spirits up did rear. Had I (as first I did begin) gone on, I like a Schoolboy should have worn my crown, As if I had borrowed it.
seed 43: T25 · seed 44: T6 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
A Shalcan Tartar being my grandfather Men call me Shalkan Bohor. About the world My trauailes make a girdle (perfect round:) So that, what wonders Kings on earth euer found I know, and what I know, Is yours. Braue Heluetian, We giue you thankes and welcome: your arriuall▪ Is faire and to our wish, of those dayes Which Time sets downe, to number vp a weeke, Euery day haue we tasked; saue onely one, How in these courts of Kings (through which you haue gon,) Doe Princes wast their howres? How but in that, For which they are borne Kings? (Pleasure:) euery mans ayme, Is to hi pleasure: onely tis changde in name, Thats all the difference; Are Kings Tirants? Blood Is then their pleasure: thirst they after warres! Ambition tickles them; that for which man most cares, Good or bad, tis his pleasure, and to gaine it, His soule must compasse i tho hell restraine it▪ To this marke all mens thoughts, Creation drew, That all might striue fo a thing, thats got by fewe: Who are those few but Kings? and tis fit they Should haue it, because true pleasure does soone decay. How like you his counsell? Rarely. What uffians this? Bohor tha'st warm'd our yong blood; Al cares of state; Shall that day sleepe, to our selfe weele Saterday haue, Pleasure (the slaue of Kings shall then be our slaue, Lords let there be a proclamation drawne, What man soeuer (strange or natiue borne,) Can feast our spleene, and heigthen our delight, He shall haue gold and be our fauorite. Tilts, turneys, masques, playes, dauncing, drinking deepe Tho ere noone all Naples lye dead-drunke a sleepe. How King? Weele haue it so vnle. Downe with that too. Print Satterday in great text letters. Well, well, it shall. Our swan turnes crow, poisond with one drop of gall. Ile haue this proclamation forthwith drawne. And publish al the daies. And Satterday. Especially that at large if you can in red, like a Dominicall letter. Goe see it don. My taske. Why sigh you? Of six dayes wo'd you not spare me one? Thine owne lawes from thine owne mouth, weele proclaime, if thine owne words thou e'ast, bee't thine owne shame. Your long expected happines is arriu'd, The princesse of Calabria. Thou crown'st me agen▪ Deere vncle, honored Lords, with whole court Honor her hither; I am rapd with Ioy, And lost till I behold her: fetch me my loue. I feare deepe whirlepooles tho it run smooth aboue. To our worthy friend your welcomes. But pray Sir tell vs, meane you that we indeed Shall haue but one playing day through the whole weeke? All Iouinells, weele be Iouiall all. Till Satterday came, we liu'de in terrible feare. Thanke Bohor, who your dead spirits vp did reare. Had I (as first I did begin) gon on, I like a Schoole-boy should haue worne my crowne, As if I had borrowed it.