Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1619 · first performed or written 1611 (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Globe T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation typicality 0.87 · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
Nay, never hide yourself; for were you hid where earth hides all her riches, near her centre; My wrongs without more day would light me to you: I must speak ere I die; were all your greatness Doubled upon you, you're a perjured man, And only mighty in the wickedness Of wronging women. Thou art false, false Prince, I live to see it: poor Spaconia lives To tell thee thou art false; and then no more: She lives to tell thee thou art more unconstant Than all ill women ever were together; Thy faith as firm as raging overflows, That no bank can command; and as lasting As boys gay bubbles blown in the air, and broken: The wind is fixed to thee, and sooner shall The beaten Mariner with his shrill whistle, Calm the loud murmurs of the troubled main, And strike it smooth again; than thy soul fall To have peace in love with any: Thou art all That all good men must hate, and if thy story Shall tell succeeding ages what thou wert, O let it spare me in it, lest true Lovers In pity of my wrongs burn thy black legend, And with their curses shake thy sleeping ashes. Oh, oh: The destinies I hope have pointed out Our ends alike, that thou mayst die for love, Though not for me: for this assure thyself, The Princess hates thee deadly, and will sooner Be won to marry with a Bull, and safer, Than such a beast as thou art: I have struck I fear too deep; beshrew me for't: Sir, This sorrow works me like a cunning friendship, Into the same piece with it; he's ashamed, Alas, I have been too rugged: Dear my Lord, I am sorry I have spoken any thing, Indeed I am, that may add more restraint To that too much you have: Good Sir be pleased To think it was a fault of love, not malice; And do as I will do: forgive it Prince, I do, and can forgive the greatest sins To me you can repent of; pray believe me. O my Spaconia! O thou virtuous woman! No more, the King Sir. Have you been careful of our noble Prisoner That he want nothing fitting for his greatness? I hope his grace will quit me, for my care Sir. 'tis well, royal Tigranes' health. More than the strictness of this place can give Sir I offer back again to great Arbaces. We thank you worthy Prince, and pray excuse us, We have not seen you since your being here, I hope your noble usage has been equal With your own Person: your imprisonment If it be any, I dare say is easy, And shall not outlast two days. I thank you: My usage here has been the same it was Worthy a royal Conqueror. For my restraint It came unkindly, because much unlooked for; But I must bear it:
seed 43: T14 · seed 44: T9 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Nay, neuer hide your ſelfe; for were you hid vvhere earth hides all her riches, nere her center; My wrongs without more day would light me to you: I muſt ſpeake ere I die; were all your greatneſſe Doubled vpon you, y'are a periur'd man, And onely mighty in the wickedneſſe Of wronging women. Thou art ſalfe, falſe Prince, I liue to ſee it: poore Spaconia liues To tell thee thou art falſe; and then no more: Shee liues to tell thee thou art more vnconſtant Then all ill women euer were together; Thy faith as firme as raging ouerflowes, That no banke can command; and as laſting As boyes gay bubbles blowne in the aire, and broken: The wind is fixt to thee, and ſooner ſhall The beaten Marriner with his ſhrill whiſtle, Calme the loude murmurs of the troubled maine, And ſtrike it ſmooth againe; then thy ſoule fall To haue peace in loue with any: Thou art all That all good men muſt hate, and if thy ſtorie Shall tell ſucceeding ages what thou wert, O let it ſpare me in it, leſt true Louers In pitty of my wrongs burne thy blacke legend, And with their curſes ſhake thy ſleeping aſhes. Oh, oh: The deſtinies I hope haue pointed out Our ends alike, that thou maiſt die for loue, Though not for me: for this aſſure thy ſelfe, The Princeſſe hates thee deadly, and will ſooner Be wonne to marrie with a Bull, and ſafer, Then ſuch a beaſt as thou art: I haue ſtrucke I feare too deepe; beſhrow me fort: Sir, This ſorrow workes me like a cunning friendſhip, Into the ſame piece with it; hee's aſham'd, Alas▪ I haue beene too rugged: Deare my Lord, I am ſorrie I haue ſpoken any thing, Indeed I am, that may adde more reſtraint To that too much you haue: Good Sir be pleaſ'd To thinke it was a fault of loue, not malice; And doe as I will doe: forgiue it Prince, I doe, and can forgiue the greateſt ſinnes To me you can repent of; pray belieue▪me. O my Spaconia! O thou vertuous woman! No more, the King Sir. Haue you beene carefull of our noble Priſoner That he want nothing fitting for his greatneſſe? I hope his grace will quit me, for my care Sir. Tis well, royall Tigranes health. More then the ſtricktneſſe of this place can giue Sir I offer backe againe to great Arbaces. VVe thanke you worthy Prince, and pray excuſe vs, We haue not ſeene you ſince your being here, I hope your noble vſage has beene equall With your owne Perſon: your impriſonment If it be any, I dare ſay is eafie, And ſhall not outlaſt two dayes. I thanke you: My vſage here has beene the ſame it was Worthy a royall Conquerour. For my reſtraint It came vnkindly, becauſe much vnlookt for; But I muſt beare it: