Massinger, Philip · published 1623 · first performed or written 1621 [1621-1623] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars T10 England and France: war, embassy and pea typicality 0.83 · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
'Tis believed, Believed, my blessed One. How she winds herself Into his Soul! Sit all: Let others feed On those gross Cates, while Sforza banquets with Immortal Viands, ta'en in at his Eyes. I could live ever thus. Command the Eunuch To sing the Ditty that I last composed, In praise of my Marcelia. From whence? From Pavie, my dread Lord. Speak, is all lost? The Letter will inform you. How his Hand shakes, As he receives it? This is some allay To his hot passion. Though it bring death, i'll read it. May it please your Excellence to understand, that the very hour I wrote this, I heard a bold defiance delivered by a Herald from the Emperor, which was cheerfully received by the King of France. The battles being ready to join, and the Vanguard committed to my charge, enforces me to end abruptly. Ready to join, By this, than I am nothing, Or my Estate secure. My Lord. To doubt, Is worse than to have lost: And to despair, Is but to antedate those miseries, That must fall on us. All my hopes depending Upon this battles fortune; In my Soul methinks there should be that Imperious power, By supernatural, not usual means, T'inform me what I am. The cause considered, Why should I fear? The French are bold and strong, Their numbers full, and in their counsels wise: But then, the haughty Spaniard is all Fire, Hot in his executions; Fortunate In his attempts; Married to victory: ay, there it is that shakes me. Excellent Lady: This day was dedicated to your Honour: One gale of your sweet breath will easily Disperse these Clouds: And, but yourself, there's none That dare speak to him. I will run the hazard. My Lord? Ha: Pardon me Marcelia, I am troubled; And stand uncertain, whether I am Master Of aught that's worth the owning. I am yours Sir; And I have heard you swear, I being safe, There was no loss could move you. This day Sir, Is by your gift made mine: Can you revoke A Grant made to Marcelia? Your Marcelia? For whose love, nay, whose honour (gentle Sir) All deep designs, and State affairs deserved: Be, as you purposed, merry. Out of my sight, And all thoughts that may strangle mirth forsake me. Fall what can fall, I dare the worst of Fate; Though the Foundation of the Earth should shrink, The glorious Eye of Heaven lose his Splendour: Supported thus, I'll stand upon the ruins, And seek for new life here. Why are you sad? No other sports? By Heaven he's not my friend, That wears one Furrow in his Face. I was told There was a Masque. They wait your highness' pleasure, And when you please to have it. Bid'em enter: Come, make me happy once again. I am rapt, 'Tis not today, tomorrow, or the next, But all my days, and years shall be employed To do thee honour.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T8 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
'Tis belieu'd, Belieu'd, my blest One. How she winds her selfe Into his Soule! Sit all: Let others feed On those grosse Cates, while Sforza banquets with Immortall Viands, tane in at his Eyes. I could liue euer thus. Command the Eunuch To sing the Dittie that I last compos'd, In prayse of my Marcelia. From whence? From Pauie, my dread Lord. Speake, is all lost? The Letter will informe you. How his Hand shakes, As he receiues it? This is some allay To his hot passion. Though it bring death, ile read it. May it please your Excellence to vnderstand, that the verie houre I wrot this, I heard a bold defiance deliuered by a Herald from the Emperor, which was chearefully receiu'd by the King of France. The battailes being readie to ioyne, and the Vantguard committed to my charge, inforces me to end abruply. Readie to ioyne, By this, then I am nothing, Or my Estate secure. My Lord. To doubt, Is worse then to haue lost: And to despaire, Is but to antidate those miseries, That must fall on vs. All my hopes depending Vpon this battailes fortune; In my Soule Me thinkes there should be that Imperious power, By supernaturall, not vsuall meanes, T'informe me what I am. The cause consider'd, Why should I feare? The French are bold and strong, Their numbers full, and in their counsels wise: But then, the haughtie Spaniard is all Fire, Hot in his executions; Fortunate In his attempts; Married to victoric: I, there it is that shakes me. Excellent Lady: This day was dedicated to your Honor: One gale of your sweet breath will easily Disperse these Clouds: And, but your selfe, ther's none That dare speake to him. I will run the hazard. My Lord? Ha: Pardon me Marcelia, I am troubled; And stand vncertaine, whether I am Master Of ought that's worth the owning. I am yours Sir; And I haue heard you sweare, I being safe, There was no losse could moue you. This day Sir, Is by your guist made mine: Can you reuoke A Grant made to Marcelia? Your Marcelia? For whose loue, nay, whose honour (gentle Sir) All deepe designes, and State affaires deser'd: Be, as you purpos'd, merrie. Out of my sight, And all thoughts that may strangle mirth forsake me. Fall what can fall, I dare the worst of Fate; Though the Foundation of the Earth should shrinke, The glorions Eye of Heauen loose his Splendor: Supported thus, I'le stand vpon the ruins, And seeke for new life here. Why are you sad? No other sports? By Heauen he's not my friend, That weares one Furrow in his Face. I was told There was a Masque. They waite your Highnesse pleasure, And when you please to haue it. Bid'em enter: Come, make me happie once againe. I am rap't, 'Tis not to day, to morrow, or the next, But all my dayes, and yeeres shall be employed To doe thee honour.