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 0.89 · 497 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
You are not so mad to go; shift of this fellow, you shall be ruled once by a wise man: rat's bane get you gone, or— Peace, peace for shame, thy love is too suspicious, 'tis away offered to preserve my life, and I will take it: be my Guide Timantus, and do not mind this angry man, thou know'st him: I may live to requite thee. Sir, this service is done for virtues sake, not for reward, however he may hold me. The great pox on you: but thou hast that curse so much, 'twill grow a blessing in thee shortly. Sir, for wisdoms sake court not your death, I am your friend and subject, and I shall lose in both: if I loved you not, I would laugh at you, and see you run your neck into the noose, and cry a Woodcock. So much of man, and so much fearful; fie, prithee have peace within thee: I shall live yet many a golden day to hold thee here dearest and nearest to me: Go on Timantus. I charge you by your love no more, no more. Go, and let your own rod whip you: I pity you, And dog, if he miscarry thou shalt pay for't, I'll study for thy punishment, and it shall last Longer and sharper than a tedious Winter, Till thou blasphem'st, and then thou diest and damn'st. I wonder the Duchess comes not. She has hard sir your will to speak with her: But there is some thing leaden at her heart (Pray God it be not mortal) that even keeps her From conversation with herself. O whither will ye me cross affections pull me? Fortune, Fate, & you whose powers direct our actions, And dwell within us: you that are Angels Guiding to virtue, wherefore have you given So strong a hand to evil? wherefore suffered A Temple of your own, you Deities Where your fair selves dwelled only, & your goodness Thus to be soiled with sin? Heaven bless us all. From whence comes this distemper? speak my fair one. And have you none, love and obedience, You ever faithful Servants to employ In this strange story of impiety, But me a Mother, Must I be your strumpet? To lay black treason upon and in him, In whom all sweetness was: in whom my love Was proved, to have a being, in whom justice, And all the gods for our imaginations Can work into a man, were more than virtues, Ambition down to Hell, where thou wert fostered Thou hast poisoned the best soul, the purest, whitest, And merest innocentest itself that ever Men's greedy hopes gave life to. This is still stranger: lay this treason, Open to my correction. O what a combat duty and affection Breeds in my blood. If thou concealest him may Beside my death the curses of the Country, Troubles of conscience, and a wretched end, Bring thee unto a poor forgotten grave.
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)
You are not so mad to go; shift of this fellow, you shall bee rul'd once by a wise man: rats bane get you gone, or — Peace, peace for shame, thy loue is too suspitious, tis away offered to preserue my life, and I will take it: be my Guide Timantus, and doe not minde this angry man, thou knowst him: I may liue to requite thee. Sir, this seruice is done for vertues sake, not for reward, how euer he may hold me. The great pox on you: but thou hast that curse so much, twill grow a blessing in thee shortly. Sir, for wisdomes sake court not your death, I am your friend and subiect, and I shall lose in both: if I lou'd you not, I would laugh at you, and see you run your neck into the noose, and cry a Woodcocke. So much of man, and so much fearefull; fye, prethee haue peace within thee: I shall liue yet many a golden day to hold thee heere deerest and neerest to me: Goe on Timantus. I charge you by your loue no more, no more. Goe, and let your owne rod whip you: I pity you, And dog, if he miscarry thou shalt pay fort, Ile study for thy punishment, and it shall last Longer and sharper then a tedious Winter, Till thou blasphemst, and then thou diest and dambst. I wonder the Dutchesse comes not. She has hard sir your will to speake with her: But there is some thing leaden at her heart (Pray God it be not mortall) that euen keepes her From conuersation with her selfe. O whither will yee me crosse affections pull me? Fortune, Fate, & you whose powers direct our actions, And dwell within vs: you that are Angells Guiding to vertue, wherefore haue you giuen So strong a hand to cuill? wherefore sufferd A Temple of your owne, you Deities Where your faire selues dwelt onely, & your goodnes Thus to be soyld with sinne? Heauen blesse vs all. From whence coms this distemper? speak my faire one. And haue you none, loue and obedience, You euer faithfull Seruants to imploy In this strange story of impietie, But mee a Mother, Must I bee your strumpet? To lay blacke treason vpon and in him, In whome all sweetnes was: in whom my loue Was proud'de, to haue a being, in whome Iustice, And all the gods for our imaginations Can worke into a man, were more then vertues, Ambition downe to Hell, where thou wert fosterd Thou hast poysond the best soule, the purest, whitest, And meerest innocentst it selfe that euer Mens greedy hopes gaue life to. This is still stranger: lay this treason, Open to my correction. O what a combat duety and affection Breedes in my bloud. If thou concealst him may Beside my death the curses of the Countrey, Troubles of conscience, and a wretched ende, Bring thee vnto a poore forgotten graue.