Anonymous / Fletcher, John / Massinger, Philip · published 1621 · first performed or written 1617 [1613-1621] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars T19 Virtue, Fortune and Vice as abstractions typicality 0.75 · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T19: virtue, fortune, virtues, honour, fame, vice, envy, world, pride, great.
Tax me with these hot tainters? You are too sudden; I do but gently tell you what becomes you, And what may bend your honour! how these courses Of loose and lazy pleasures; not suspected But done and known, your mind that grants no limit And all your Actions follows, which loose people That see but through a mist of circumstance Dare term ambitious; all your ways hide sores Opening in the end to nothing but ulcers. Your instruments like these may call the world And with a fearful clamour, to examine Why, and to what we govern. From example If not for virtue's sake ye may be honest: There have been great ones, good ones, and 'tis necessary Because you are yourself, and by yourself A self-piece from the touch of power and justice, You should command yourself, you may imagine Which cozens all the world, but chiefly women. The name of greatness glorifies your actions And strong power like a penthouse, promises To shade you from opinion; take heed mother, And let us all take heed, these most abuse us The sins we do, people behold through optics, Which shows 'em ten times more than common vices, And often multiplies 'em: then what justice Dare we inflict upon the weak offenders When we are thieves ourselves? This is, Martell, Studied and penned unto you, whose base person I charge you by the love you owe a mother And as you hope for blessings from her prayers, Neither to give belief to, nor allowance. Next I tell you Sir, you from whom obedience Is so far fled, that you dare tax a mother; Nay further, brand her honour with your slanders, And break into the treasures of her credit, Your easiness is abused, your faith fraited With lies, malicious lies, your merchant mischief, He that never knew more trade than Tales, and tumbling Suspicious into honest hearts; what you or he, Or all the world dare lay upon my worth, This for your poor opinions: I am she, And so will bear myself, whose truth and whiteness Shall ever stand as far from these detections As you from duty; get you better servants, People of honest actions without ends, And whip these knaves away, they eat your favours, And turn 'em unto poisons: my known credit Whom all the Courts a this side Nile have envied, And happy she could site me, brought in question Now in my hours of age and reverence, When rather superstition should be rendered, And by a Rush that one day's warmth Hath shot up to this swelling; give me justice, Which is his life. This is an impudence, And he must tell you, that till now mother Brought ye a son's obedience, and now breaks it Above the sufferance of a son. Bless us! For I do now begin to feel myself Turning into a halter, and the ladder Turning from me, one pulling at my legs too.
seed 43: T13 · seed 44: T16 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
TAxe me with these hot tainters? You are too sudaine; I doe but gently tell you what becomes you, And what may bend your honor! how these courses Of loose and lazie pleasures; not suspected But done and knowne, your minde that grants no limit And all your Actions followes, which loose people That see but through a mist of circumstance Dare tearme ambitious; all your wayes hide sores Opening in the end to nothing but vlcers. Your instruments like these may call the world And with a fearefull clamour, to examine Why, and to what wee gouerne. From example If not for vertues sake yee may be honest: There haue beene great ones, good ones, and 'tis necessary Because you are your selfe, and by your selfe A selfe-peece from the touch of power and Iustice, You should commaund your selfe, you may imagine Which cozens all the world, but chiefly women. The name of greatnesse glorifies your actions And strong power like a pent-house, promises To shade you from opinion; take heede mother, And let vs all take heede, these most abuse vs The sinnes we doe, people behold through opticks, Which shewes vm ten times more then common vices, And often multiplyes vm: then what iustice Dare we inflict vpon the weake offenders When we are theeues our selues? This is, Martell, Studied and pend vnto you, whose base person I charge you by the loue you owe a mother And as you hope for blessings from her prayers, Neither to giue beliefe to, nor allowance. Next I tell you Sir, you from whom obedience Is so farre fled, that you dare taxe a mother; Nay further, brand her honour with your slanders, And breake into the treasures of her credit, Your easinesse is abused, your faith fraited With lyes, malitious lyes, your merchant mischiefe, He that neuer knew more trade then Tales, and tumbling Suspitious into honest harts; what you or hee, Or all the world dare lay vpon my worth, This for your poore opinions: I am shee, And so will beare my selfe, whose trueth and whitenesse Shall euer stand as far from these detections As you from dutie; get you better seruants, People of honest actions without ends, And whip these knaues away, they eate your fauours, And turne em vnto poysons: my knowne credite Whom all the Courts a this side Nile haue enuied, And happy shee could site mee, brought in question Now in my houres of age and reuerence, VVhen rather superstition should be rendered, And by a Rush that one dayes warmth Hath shot vp to this swelling; giue me iustice, VVhich is his life. This is an impudence, And he must tell you, that till now mother Brought yee a sonnes obedience, and now breakes it Aboue the sufferance of a sonne. Blesse vs! For I doe now begin to feele my selfe Turning into a halter, and the ladder Turning from me, one pulling at my legs too.