Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1615 · first performed or written 1608 [c.1607-1608] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Queen's Revels unassigned nearest T11 Siblings, kin and confidants · 504 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
No, but with a truth. Stand of yourself: can you endure blows, and shrink at words? Thou know'st I have told thee all. But that all's nothing to make you thus: your Sister's dead. That's much, but not the most. Why, for the other let her marry and hang, 'tis no purposed fault of yours: and if your father will needs have your cast whore, you shall show the duty of a child better in being contented, and bidding much good do his good old heart with her, then in repining thus at it: let her go: what, there are more wenches man, we'll have another. O thou art vain, thou know'st I do not love her: What shall I do? I would my tongue had led me To any other thing, but Blasphemy, So I had missed commending of this woman, Whom I must reverence now, she is my mother; My fin Ismenus has wrought all this ill: And I beseech thee, to be warned by me, And do not lie, if any man should ask thee But How thou dost, or, What o'clock 'tis now, Be sure thou do not lie, make no excuse For him that is most near thee: never let The most officious falsehood scape thy tongue, For they above (that are entirely truth) Will make that seed, which thou hast sown Of lies, yield miseries a thousand sold Upon thine head, as they have done of mine. Sir, your Highness is welcome home, the Duke and Queen will presently come forth to you. I'll weight on them. Worthy Ismenus, I pray how have you sped in your wars? This Rogue mocks me. Well Timantus, 'pray how have you sped here at home at shouelboord? Faith reasonable. How many Towns have you taken in this Summer? How many Stags have you been at the death of this grass? A number. 'pray how is the province settled? Prithee how does the dun Nag? I think you mock me my Lord. Mock thee? Yes by my troth do I: why what wouldst thou have me do with thee? Art good for any thing else? My good Ismenus, hold me by the wrist: And if thou seest me fainting, wring me hard, For I shall soon again else— Welcome my son; rise, I did send for thee Back from the Province, by thy Mother's counsel, Thy good Mother here, who loves thee well: She would not let me venture all my joy Amongst my enemies: I thank thee for her, And none but thee, I took her on thy word. Pinch harder. And she shall bid thee welcome: I have now Some near affairs, but I will drink a Health To thee anon: Come Telamon, I'm grown Lustier, I thank thee for't, since I married; I can stand now alone, why Telamon, And never stagger. Welcome most noble sir, whose fame is come Hither before you: out alas you scorn me, And teach me what to do. No, you are my Mother.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T12 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
No, but with a truth. Stand of your selfe: can you endure blowes, and shrinke at words? Thou knowst I haue told thee all. But that all's nothing to make you thus: your Sisters dead. Thats much, but not the most. Why, for the other let her marry and hang, tis no purpos'd fault of yours: and if your father will needes haue your cast whore, you shall shew the duty of a childe better in being contented, and bidding much good doe his good old heart with her, then in repining thus at it: let her goe: what, there are more wenches man, weele haue another. O thou art vaine, thou knowst I do not loue her: What shall I doe? I would my tongue had led me To any other thing, but Blasphemy, So I had mist commending of this woman, Whom I must reuerence now, she is my mother; My finne Ismenus has wrought all this ill: And I beseech thee, to be warnd by me, And doe not lye, if any man should aske thee But How thou dost, or, What a clocke tis now, Be sure thou doe not lye, make no excuse For him that is most neere thee: neuer let The most officious falsehood scape thy tongue, For they aboue (that are intirely truth) Will make that seede, which thou hait fowne Of lyes, yeeld miseries a thousand sold Vpon thine head, as they haue done of mine. Sir, your Highnes is welcome home, the Duke and Queene will presently come foorth to you. Ile waight on them. Worthy Ismenus, I pray how haue you sped in your warres? This Rogue mocks me. Well Timantus, 'pray how haue you sped here at home at shouelboord? Faith reasonable. How many Townes haue you taken in this Summer? How many Stagges haue you beene at the death of this grasse? A number. 'pray how is the prouince setled? Prethee how does the dunne Nagge? I thinke you mocke me my Lord. Mocke thee? Yes by my troth doe I: why what wouldst thou haue me doe with thee? Art good for any thing else? My good Ismenus, hold me by the wrist: And if thou see'st me fainting, wring me hard, For I shall soone againe else — Welcome my sonne; rise, I did send for thee Backe from the Prouince, by thy Mothers counsell, Thy good Mother here, who loues thee well: She would not let me venture all my Ioy Amongst my enemies: I thanke thee for her, And none but thee, I tooke her on thy word. Pinch harder. And she shall bid thee welcome: I haue now Some neere affayres, but I will drinke a Health To thee a non: Come Telamon, Ime growne Lustier, I thanke thee for't, since I marryed; I can stand now alone, why Telamon, And neuer stagger. Welcome most noble sir, whose fame is come Hither before you: out alas you scorne me, And teach me what to doe. No, you are my Mother.