Massinger, Philip · published 1623 · first performed or written 1621 [1621-1623] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour · 531 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
The Devil may plead mercy, And with as much assurance, as thou yield one. burns Lust so hot in thee? Or, is thy pride Grown up to such a height, that, but a Princess, No Woman can content thee? And ad to that, His Wife, and Princess, to whom thou art tied In all the bonds of Duty? read my life, And find one act of mine so loosely carried, That could invite a most self-loving-fool, Set of, with all that fortune could throw on him, To the least hope to find way to my favour: And (what's the worst mine enemies could wish me) I'll be thy Strumpet. 'Tis acknowledged Madam, That your whole course of life hath been a pattern For chaste, and virtuous Women; In your beauty (Which I first saw, and loved) as a fair Crystal, I read your heavenly mind, clear and untainted; And while the Duke did prize you to your value (Could it have been in Man to pay that duty) I well might envy him, but durst not hope To stop you, in your full career of goodness: But now I find, that he's fall'n from his fortune, And (howsoever he would appear doting) Grown cold in his affection: I presume, From his most barbarous neglect of you, To offer my true service: Nor stand I bound, To look back on the courtesies of him, That, of all living Men, is most unthankful, Unheard-of impudence! You'll say I am modest, When I have told the story. Can he tax me (That have received some worldly trifles from him) For being ingrateful? When, he that first tasted, And hath so long enjoyed your sweet embraces (In which, all blessings that our frail condition Is capable of, is wholly comprehended) As cloyed with happiness, contemns the giver Of his felicity? And, as he reached not, The masterpiece of mischief, which he aims at, Unless he pay those favours he stands bound to, With fell and deadly hate? You think he loves you, With unexampled fervour: Nay, dotes on you, As there were something in you more than Woman: When on my knowledge, he long since hath wished, You were among the dead: And I, you scorn so, Perhaps, am your preserver. Bless me good Angels, Or I am blasted. Lies so false, and wicked, And fashioned to so damnable a purpose, Cannot be spoken by a humane tongue. My Husband, hate me? Give thyself the Lie, False, and accursed; Thy Soul (if thou hast any) Can witness, never Lady stood so bound, To the unfeigned affection of her Lord, As I do, to my Sforza. If thou wouldst work Upon my weak credulity, Tell me rather, That the Earth moves; The Sun, and Stars, stand still; The Ocean keeps nor Floods, nor Ebbs; Or that, there's peace between the Lion, and the Lamb; Or that, the ravenous Eagle, and the Dove, Keep in one eyrie, and bring up their young: Or any thing that is averse to Nature: And I will sooner credit it, than that My Lord can think of me, but as a jewel, He loves more than himself, and all the World.
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)
The Diuell may plead mercie, And with as much assurance, as thou yeeld one. Burnes Lust so hot in thee? Or, is thy pride Growne vp to such a height, that, but a Princesse, No Woman can content thee? And ad to that, His Wife, and Princesse, to whom thou art ti'de In all the bonds of Dutie? Reade my life, And finde one act of mine so loosely carried, That could inuite a most selfe-louing-Foole, Set of, with all that fortune could throw on him, To the least hope to find way to my fauour: And (what's the worst mine enemies could wish me) I'le be thy Strumpet. 'Tis acknowledg'd Madam, That your whole course of life hath been a patterne For chast, and vertuous Women; In your beautie (Which I first saw, and lou'd) as a faire Cristall, I read your heauenly mind, cleere and vntainted; And while the Duke did prize you to your valew (Could it haue been in Man to pay that dutie) I well might enuie him, but durst not hope To stop you, in your full carreer of goodnesse: But now I find, that he's falne from his fortune, And (howsoeuer he would appeare doting) Growne cold in his affection: I presume, From his most barbarous neglect of you, To offer my true seruice: Nor stand I bound, To looke back on the curtesies of him, That, of all liuing Men, is most vnthankfull, Vnheard-of impudence! You'l say I am modest, When I haue told the Storie. Can he taxe me (That haue receiu'd some worldly trifles from him) For being ingratefull? When, he that first tasted, And hath so long enioy'd your sweet embraces (In which, all blessings that our fraile condition Is capable of, is wholy comprehended) As cloy'd with happinesse, contemnes the giuer Of his felicitie? And, as he reach'd not, The master-peice of mischiefe, which he aymes at, Vnlesse he pay those fauours he stands bound to, With fell and deadly hate? You thinke he loues you, With vnexampled feruor: Nay, dotes on you, As there were something in you more than Woman: When on my knowledge, he long since hath wish'd, You were among the dead: And I, you scorne so, Perhaps, am your preseruer. Blesse me good Angels, Or I am blasted. Lyes so false, and wicked, And fashion'd to so damnable a purpose, Cannot be spoken by a humane tongue. My Husband, hate me? Giue thy selfe the Lye, False, and accurs'd; Thy Soule (if thou hast any) Can witnesse, neuer Lady stood so bound, To the vnfained affection of her Lord, As I doe, to my Sforza. If thou would'st worke Vpon my weake credulitie, Tell me rather, That the Earth moues; The Sunne, and Starres, stand still; The Ocean keeps nor Floods, nor Ebbes; Or that, Ther's peace betweene the Lyon, and the Lambe; Or that, the rauenous Eagle, and the Doue, Keepe in one Ayery, and bring vp their yong: Or any thing that is auerse to Nature: And I will sooner credit it, than that My Lord can thinke of me, but as a Iewell, He loues more than himselfe, and all the World.