Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1615 · first performed or written 1608 [c.1607-1608] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Queen's Revels T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.80 · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
we live to know a fine time, Gentl. And a fine Duke, that through his doting age Suffers him to be a child again Under his wives tuition. All the Land holds in that tenor too: in woman's service? sure we shall learn to spin. No, that's too honest: we shall have other Liberal Sciences taught us too soon; Lying, and Flattering, those are the studies now: And Murder shortly I know, will be humanity Gent. If we live here we must be knaves, believe it. I cannot tell my Lord Dorialus, though my Own nature hate it, if all determine to be knaves, I'll try what I can do upon myself, that's certain, I will not have my throat cut for my goodness, The virtue will not quit the pain. But pray you tell me, Why is the Prince, now ripe and full experient, Not made a door in the State? Because he is honest. Goodness attend your Honours. You must not be amongst us then. The Duchess, whose humble Servant I am proved to be, would speak with you. Sir we are pleased to wait: when is it? An hour hence my good Lords, and so I leave my service. This is one of her Ferrets that she bolts business out withal: this fellow, if he were well ripped, has all the linings of a knave within him: how sly he looks? Have we nothing about our clothes that he may catch at? O' my conscience there's no treason in my doublet, if there be, my elbows will discover it, they are out. Faith, and all the harm that I can find in mine is, that they are not paid for, let him make what he can of that, so he discharge that. Come, let's go. And you shall find sir what a blessing heaven gave you in such a son. Pray gods I may. Let's walk & change out subject. O sir, can any thing come sweeter to you, or strike a deeper joy into your heart than your son's virtue? I allow his virtues: but 'tis not handsome thus to feed myself with such moderate praises of mine own. The subject of our commendations is itself grown so infinite in goodness, that all the glory we can lay upon it, though we should open volumes of his praises, is a mere modesty in his expression, and shows him lame still, like an ill wrought piece wanting proportion. Yet still he is a man, and subject still to more inordinate vices, than our love can give him blessing. Else he were a god: yet so near as he is, he comes to heaven, that we may see so far as flesh can point us things only worthy them, and only these in all his actions. This is too much my Queen. Had the gods loved me, that my unworthy womb had bred this brave man. Still you run wrong.
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Wee liue to knowe a fine time, Gentl. And a fine Duke, that through his doting age Suffers him to be a childe againe Vnder his Wiues tuition. All the Land holds in that tenor too: in womans seruice? sure we shall learne to spinne. No, thats too honest: we shall haue other Liberall Sciences taught vs too soone; Lying, and Flattering, those are the studies now: And Murther shortly I know, wil be humanity Gent. If we liue here we must be knaues, beleeue it. I cannot tell my Lord Dorialus, though my Owne nature hate it, if all determine to be knaues, Ile try what I can doe vpon my selfe, thats certaine, I will not haue my throat cut for my goodnes, The vertue will not quit the paine. But pray you tell mee, Why is the Prince, now ripe and full experient, Not made a dore in the State? Because he is honest. Goodnes attend your Honours. You must not be amongst vs then. The Dutchesse, whose humble Seruant I am prou'de to be, would speake with you. Sir we are pleas'd to wayte: when is it? An houre hence my good Lords, and so I leaue my seruice. This is one of her Ferrets that shee bolts businesse out withall: this fellow, if hee were well ript, has all the linings of a knaue within him: how slye he lookes? Haue we nothing about our cloathes that he may catch at? O' my conscience there's no treason in my dublet, if there bee, my elboes will discouer it, they are out. Faith, and all the harme that I can finde in mine is, that they are not payd for, let him make what he can of that, so he discharge that. Come, lets goe. And you shall finde sir what a blessing heauen gaue you in such a sonne. Pray gods I may. Lets walk & change out subiect. O sir, can any thing come sweeter to you, or strike a deeper ioy into your heart then your sons vertue? I allow his vertues: but tis not hansome thus to feed my self with such moderate praises of mine own. The subiect of our commendations is it selfe growne so infinite in goodnes, that all the glory wee can lay vpon it, though we should open volumes of his praises, is a meere modesty in his expression, and shewes him lame still, like an ill wrought peece wanting proportion. Yet still he is a man, and subiect still to more inordinate vices, then our loue can giue him blessing. Else hee were a god: yet so neere as he is, hee comes to heauen, that we may see so farre as flesh can poynt vs things onely worthy them, and onely these in all his actions. This is too much my Queene. Had the gods lou'd mee, that my vnworthy wombe had bred this braue man. Still you runne wrong.