Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1615 · first performed or written 1608 [c.1607-1608] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Queen's Revels unassigned nearest T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour · 500 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Law Master, there's one, look to your sen. What art thou, that in this dismal place, Which nothing could find out but misery, Thus boldly stepped? Comfort was never here, Here is nor food, nor beds, nor any house Built by a better Architect than beasts; And ere you get dwelling from one of them, You must fight for it: if you conquer him, He is your meat; if not, you must be his. I come to you (for if I not mistake, you are the Prince) from that most Noble Lord Ismenus with a Letter. Alas, I fear I shall be discovered now. Now I feel myself the poorest of all mortal things. Where is he that receives such courtesies, But he has means to show his gratefulness Some way or other? I have none at all: I know not how to speak so much as well Of thee but to these trees. His Letters speak him sir— Gods keep me but fro knowing him till I die: ay me, sure I cannot live a day, o thou foul Traitor: How do you Master? How dost thou my child? alas, look on his, it may make thee repentant, to behold those innocent drops that thou hast drawn from thence. 'tis nothing sir and you be well. O pardon me, know you me now sir? How couldst thou find me out? We intercepted a Letter from Ismenus, and the bearer directed me. Stand up Timantus boldly, The world conceives that thou art guilty Of divers treasons to the State and me: But o far be it from the innocence Of a just man to give a traitor death Without a trial: here thy Country is not To purge thee or condemn thee; therefore A nobler trial than thou dost deserve, Rather than none at all, here I accuse thee Before the face of heaven, to be a traitor Both to the Duke my father and to me, and the Whole Land: speak, is it so or no? 'tis true sir, pardon me. Take heed Timantus how thou dost cast away thyself, I must proceed to execution hastily if thou confess it: speak once again, be't so or no? I am not guilty sir. Gods and thy sword acquit thee, here it is. I will not use any violence against your Highness. At thy peril then, for this must be thy trial: and from hence forth look to thyself. I do beseech you sir let me not fight. Up, up again Timantus, There is no way but this believe me. Now if— Fie, fie Timantus, is there no Usage can recover thee from baseness? wert thou Longer to converse with men, I would have chid Thee for this: be all thy faults for given. O spare me sir, I am not fit for death. I think thou art not; yet trust me, fitter than for life: Yet tell me ere my breath be gone, know'st of any other plots against me?
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)
Lawe Master, theres one, looke to your sen. What art thou, that in this dismall place, Which nothing could finde out but misery, Thus boldly stept? Comfort was neuer here, Here is nor foode, nor beds, nor any house Built by a better Architect then beasts; And ere you get dwelling from one of them, You must fight for it: if you conquer him, He is your meate; if not, you must be his. I come to you (for if I not mistake, you are the Prince) from that most Noble Lord Ismenus with a Letter. Alas, I feare I shall be discouered now. Now I feele my selfe the poorest of all mortall things. Where is he that reciues such courtesies, But he has meanes to shew his gratefulnes Some way or other? I haue none at all: I know not how to speake so much as well Of thee but to these trees. His Letters speake him sir — Gods keepe me but fro knowing him till I dye: aye me, sure I cannot liue a day, ô thou foule Traytor: How doe you Master? How dost thou my childe? alas, looke on his, it may make thee repentant, to behold those innocent drops that thou hast drawne from thence. Tis nothing sir and you be well. O pardon me, know you me now sir? How couldst thou finde me out? We intercepted a Letter from Ismenus, and the bearer directed me. Stand vp Timantus boldly, The world conceiues that thou art guilty Of diuers treasons to the State and me: But ô farre be it from the innocence Of a iust man to giue a traytor death Without a tryall: here thy Country is not To purge thee or condemne thee; therefore A nobler tryall then thou dost deserue, Rather then none at all, here I accuse thee Before the face of heauen, to be a traytor Both to the Duke my father and to me, and the Whole Land: speake, is it so or no? Tis true sir, pardon me. Take heed Timantus how thou dost cast away thy selfe, I must proceede to execution hastily if thou confesse it: speake once againe, ist so or no? I am not guilty sir. Gods and thy sword acquit thee, here it is. I will not vse any violence against your Highnesse. At thy perill then, for this must be thy tryall: and from hence forth looke to thy selfe. I doe beseech you sir let me not fight. Vp, vp againe Timantus, There is no way but this beleeue me. Now if — Fye, fie Timantus, is there no Vsage can recouer thee from basenesse? wert thou Longer to conuerse with men, I would haue chidde Thee for this: be all thy faults for giuen. O spare me sir, I am not fit for death. I thinke thou art not; yet trust me, fitter then for life: Yet tell mee ere my breath be gone, knowst of any other plots against me?