Anonymous / Fletcher, John / Massinger, Philip · published 1621 · first performed or written 1617 [1613-1621] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
I prithee let me be so, The day wears; And those that have been offering early prayers, Are now retiring homeward. Stand and mark then, Is it the first must suffer. The first woman. What hand shall do it Sir? This hand Martell, For who less dare presume to give the gods An incense of this offering? Would I were she, For such a way to die, and such a blessing Can never crown my parting. What are those? Men, men Sir, men. The plagues of men light on 'em, They cross my hopes like hares, who's that? a Priest Sir. Would he were gelt: May not these rascals serve Sir, Well hanged and quartered? No. Here comes a woman: Stand and behold her then. I think a fair one. Move not whilst I prepare her: may her peace Like his whose innocence the gods are pleased with, And offering at their altars, gives his soul Far purer than those fires; pull heaven upon her, You holy powers, no humane spot dwell in her, No love of any thing but you and goodness, Tie her to earth, fear be a stranger to her, And all weak blood's affections, but thy hope Let her bequeath to women: hear me heaven, Give her a spirit masculine, and noble, Fit for yourselves to ask, and me to offer. O let her meet my blow, dote on her death; And as a wanton vine bows to the pruner, That by his cutting off more may increase, So let her fall to raise me fruit; hail woman, The happiest, and the best (if thy dull will Do not abuse thy fortune) France ere found yet. She is more than dull Sir, less and worse than woman, That may inherit such an infinite As you propound, a greatness so near goodness; And brings a will to rob her. Tell me this then, Was there e'er woman yet, or may be found, That for fair fame, unspotted memory, For virtue's sake, and only for itself sake Has, or dare make a story? Many dead Sir, Living I think as many: Say, the kingdom May from a woman's will receive a blessing, The king and kingdom, not a private safety. A general blessing Lady. A general curse Light on her heart denies it. Full of honour; And such examples as the former ages Were but dim shadows of, and empty figures: You strangely stir me Sir, and were my weakness In any other flesh but modest woman's, You should not ask more questions, may I do it? You may, and which is more, you must. I joy in't, Above a moderate gladness, Sir, you promise It shall be honest. As ever time discovered. Let it be what it may then, what it dare, I have a mind will hazard'it. But hark ye, What may that woman merit, makes this blessing? Only her duty Sir. 'Tis terrible. 'Tis so much the more noble. 'Tis full of fearful shadows.
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)
I prithee let me be so, The day weares; And those that haue bin offering earely prayers, Are now retiring homeward. Stand and marke then, Is it the first must suffer. The first woman. What hand shall do it Sir? This hand Martell, For who lesse dare presume to giue the gods An incense of this offering? Would I were she, For such a way to die, and such a blessing Can neuer crowne my parting. What are those? Men, men Sir, men. The plagues of men light on vm, They crosse my hopes like hares, who's that? a Priest Sir. Would he were gelt: May not these rascalls serue Sir, Well hang'd and quarter'd? No. Here comes a woman: Stand and behold her then. I thinke a faire one. Moue not whilst I prepare her: may her peace Like his whose innocence the gods are pleas'd with, And offering at their altars, giues his soule Far purer then those fires; pull heauen vpon her, You holy powers, no humane spot dwell in her, No loue of any thing but you and goodnes, Tie her to earth, feare be a stranger to her, And all weake bloods affections, but thy hope Let her bequeath to women: heare me heauen, Giue her a spirrit masculine, and noble, Fit for your selfes to aske, and mee to offer. O let her meete my blow, doate on her death; And as a wanton yine bowes to the pruner, That by his cutting off more may encrease, So let her fall to raise me fruite; haile woman, The happiest, and the best (if thy dull wil Do not abuse thy fortune) France ere found yet. She is more then dull Sir, lesse and worse then woman, That may inherit such an infinite As you propound, a greatnesse so neare goodnesse; And brings a will to rob her. Tell me this then, Was there ere woman yet, or may be found, That for faire fame, vnspotted memory, For vertues sake, and only for it selfe sake Has, or dare make a story? Many dead Sir, Liuing I thinke as many: Say, the kingdome May from a womans will receiue a blessing, The king and kingdome, not a priuate safety. A generall blessing Lady. A generall curse Light on her hart denies it. Full of honor; And such examples as the former ages Were but dim shadowes of, and empty figures: You strangely stir me Sir, and were my weaknes In any other flesh but modest womans, You should not aske more questions, may I do it? You may, and which is more, you must. I ioy in't, Aboue a moderate gladnesse, Sir, you promise It shall be honest. As euer time discouer'd. Let it be what it may then, what it dare, I haue a mind will hazarde'it. But harke yee, What may that woman merit, makes this blessing? Only her duty Sir. 'Tis terrible. 'Tis so much the more noble. 'Tis full of fearefull shaddowes.