Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1615 · first performed or written 1608 [c.1607-1608] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Queen's Revels unassigned nearest T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy · 520 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
Far unworthy of that name God knows: But trust me, here before these Lords, I am no more but Nurse unto the Duke; Nor will I breed a faction in the State, It is too much for me that I am raised Unto his bed, and will remain the servant Of you that did it. madam I will serve you As shall become me. O dissembling woman! Whom I must reverence though Take from thy Quiver, sure-aimed Apollo, one of thy swift darts, Headed with thy consuming golden beams, And let it melt this body into mist, That none may find it. Shall I beg my Lords This Room in private for the Prince and me? What will she say now? I must still enjoy him: Yet there is still left in me a spark of woman, That wishes he would move it, but he stands, As if he grew there with his eyes on earth, Sir, you and I when we were last together Kept not this distance as we were afraid Of blasting by ourselves. madam 'tis true, Heaven pardon it. Amen Sir. You may think that I have done you wrong in this strange marriage, 'tis past now. But it was no fault of mine: The world had called me mad, had I refused The King: nor laid I any train to catch him, It was your own Oaths did it. 'tis a truth: that takes my sleep away, but Would to Heaven, if it had so been pleased, you had Refused him, though I had gratified that courtesy With having you myself: But since 'tis thus, I do beseech you that you will be honest From henceforth, and not abuse his credulous Age, Which you may easily do. As for myself What I can say you know alas too well Is tied within me, here it will sit like lead, But shall offend no other, it will pluck me Back from my entrance into any mirth, As if a servant came, and whispered with me Of some friend's death, but I will bear myself, To you, with all the due obedience A son owes to a Mother: more than this, Is not in me, but I must leave the rest to the Just gods: who in their blessed time, When they have given me punishment enough, For my rash sin, will mercifully find As unexpected means to ease my grief As they did now to bring it. Grown so godly: this must not be. And I willbe to you, no other than a natural Mother ought: And for my honesty, so you will swear Never to urge me, I shall keep it safe from any other. Bless me I should urge you? Nay but swear then that I may be at peace, For I do feel a weakness in myself, That can deny you nothing, if you tempt me, I shall embrace fin as it were a friend, and run to meet it If you know how far It were from me, you would not urge an Oath, But for your satistaction, when I tempt you.
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)
Farre vnworthy of that name God knowes: But trust me, here before these Lords, I am no more but Nurse vnto the Duke; Nor will I breede a faction in the State, It is too much for me that I am rays'd Vnto his bed, and will remaine the seruant Of you that did it. Madame I will serue you As shall become me. O dissembling woman! Whom I must reuerence though Take from thy Quiuer, suer-aymd Apollo, one of thy swift darts, Headed with thy consuming golden beames, And let it melt this body into mist, That none may finde it. Shall I begge my Lords This Roome in priuate for the Prince and me? What will she say now? I must still enioy him: Yet there is still left in me a sparke of woman, That wishes hee would moue it, but he stands, As if hee grewe there with his eyes on earth, Syr, you and I when we were last together Kept not this distance as we were afraide Of blasting by our selues. Madame tis true, Heauen pardon it. Amen Syr. You may thinke that I haue done you wrong in this strange marriage, Tis past now. But it was no fault of mine: The world had calld me madde, had I refusde The King: nor layde I any traine to catch him, It was your owne Oathes did it. Tis a truth: that takes my sleepe away, but Woud to Heauen, if it had so beene pleasde, you had Refusde him, though I had gratifide that courtesie With hauing you my selfe: But since tis thus, I doe beseech you that you will bee honest From henceforth, and not abuse his credulous Age, Which you may easily doe. As for my selfe What I can say you know alas too well Is tyde within me, here it will sit like lead, But shall offend no other, it will plucke mee Backe from my entrance into any myrth, As if a seruant came, and whisperd with mee Of some Friends death, but I will beare my selfe, To you, with all the due obedience A sonne owes to a Mother: more then this, Is not in mee, but I must leaue the rest to the Iust gods: who in their blessed time, When they haue giuen me punishment enough, For my rash sinne, will mercifully finde As vnexpected meanes to ease my griefe As they did now to bring it. Growne so godly: this must not bee. And I wilbe to you, no other then a natural Mother ought: And for my honestie, so you will sweare Neuer to vrge me, I shall keep it safe from any other. Blesse mee I should vrge you? Nay but sweare then that I may be at peace, For I doe feele a weaknesse in my selfe, That can denie you nothing, if you tempt me, I shall embrace finne as it were a frend, and runne to meet it If you know how farre It were from mee, you would not vrge an Oath, But for your satistaction, when I tempt you.