Massinger, Philip · published 1623 · first performed or written 1621 [1621-1623] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.82 · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
But being contemned, Upon his knees with tears he did beseech me Not to reveal it, I soft-hearted fool judging his penitence true, was won unto it. Indeed the unkindness to be sentenced by you Before that I was guilty in a thought, Made me put on a seeming anger towards you, And now behold the issue, as I do, May heaven forgive you. dies. Her sweet soul has left Her beauteous prison. Look to the Duke, he stands As if he wanted motion. Grief hath stopped The organ of his speech. Take up this body And call for his Physicians. O my heartstrings. Why couldst thou think Eugenia that rewards, Graces, or favours though strewed thick upon me Could ever bribe me to forget mine honour? Or that I tamely would sit down, before I had dried these eyes still wet with showers of tears By the fue of my revenge? Look up my dearest For that proud-fair that thief-like stepped between Thy promised hopes, and robbed thee of a fortune Almost in thy possession, hath found With horrid proof, his love she thought her And assurance of all happiness, (glory But hastened her sad ruin. Do not flatter A grief that is beneath it, for however The credulous Duke to me proved false & cruel, It is impossible he could be wrought To look on her, but with the eyes of dotage, And so to serve her. Such indeed I grant The stream of his affection was, and ran A constant course, till I with cunning malice (And yet I wrong my act, for it was justice) Made it turn backwards, and hate in extremes Love banished from his heart to fill the room, In a word, know the fair Marcelia's dead. Dead! And by Sforza's hand, does it not move you? How coldly you receive it? I expected The mere relation of so great a blessing Borne proudly on the wings of sweet revenge Would have called on a sacrifice of thanks, And joy not to be bounded or concealed! You entertain it with a look, as if You wished it were undone! Indeed I do, For if my sorrows could receive addition, Her sad fate would increase, not lessen'em. She never injured me, but entertained A fortune humbly offered to her hand, Which a wise Lady gladly would have kneeled for. Unless you would impute it as a crime, She was more fair than I, and had discretion Not to deliver up her virgin fort (Though straight besieged with flatteries, vows, & tears) Until the Church had made it safe & lawful. And had I been the mistress of her judgement And constant temper, skilful in the knowledge Of man's malicious falsehood, I had never Upon his hell-deep oaths to marry me, Given up my fair name, and my maiden honour To his foul lust, nor lived now being branded In the forehead for his whore the scorn & Shame Of all good women.
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
But being contemn'd, Vpon his knees with teares he did beseech me Not to reueale it, I soft-hearted foole Iudging his penitence true, was won vnto it. Indeed the vnkindnesse to be sentenc'd by you Before that I was guiltie in a thought, Made me put on a seeming anger towards you, And now behold the issue, as I do, May heauen forgiue you. dyes. Her sweet soule has left Her beauteous prison. Looke to the Duke, he stands As if he wanted motion. Griefe hath stopt The organ of his speech. Take vp this body And call for his Physitians. O my heart-strings. Why could'st thou thinke Eugenia that rewards, Graces, or fauours though strew'd thick vpon me Could euer bribe me to forget mine honour? Or that I tamely would sit downe, before I had dry'd these eyes still wet with showers of teares By the fue of my reuenge? Looke vp my deerest For that proud-faire that thiefe-like step'd betweene Thy promis'd hopes, and rob'd thee of a fortune Almost in thy possession, hath found With horrid proofe, his loue she thought her And assurance of all happinesse, (glorie But hast'ned her sad ruine. Doe not flatter A griefe that is beneath it, for how euer The credulous Duke to me proued false & cruel, It is imposible he could be wrought To looke on her, but with the eyes of dotage, And so to serue her. Such indeed I grant The streame of his affection was, and ran A constant course, till I with cunning malice (And yet I wrong my act, for it was Iustice) Made it turne back-wards, and hate in extreames Loue banish'd from his heart to fill the roome, In a word, know the faire Marcelia's dead. Dead! And by Sforza's hand, do's it not moue you? How coldly you receiue it? I expected The meere relation of so great a blessing Borne proudly on the wings of sweet reuenge Would haue cal'd on a sacrifice of thankes, And ioy not to be bounded or conceal'd! You entertaine it with a looke, as if You wish'd it were vndone! Indeed I doe, For if my sorrowes could receiue addition, Her sad fate would encrease, not lessen'em. She neuer iniur'd me, but entertain'd A fortune humbly offer'd to her hand, Which a wise Lady gladly would haue kneel'd for. Vnlesse you would impute it as a crime, She was more faire then I, and had discretion Not to deliuer vp her virgin fort (Though straight besieg'd with flatteries, vowes, & teares) Vntill the Church had made it safe & lawfull. And had I been the mistris of her iudgement And constant temper, skilfull in the knowledge Of mans malitions falshood, I had neuer Vpon his hell-deepe oathes to marrie me, Giuen vp my faire name, and my mayden honor To his foule lust, nor liu'd now being branded In the forhead for his whore the scorne & Shame Of all good women.