Shakespeare, William / Fletcher, John · published 1623 · first performed or written 1613 [Jun] (Annals) history · King's Men unassigned nearest T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy · 497 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
Have I lived thus long (let me speak myself, Since Virtue finds no friends) a Wife, a true one? A Woman (I dare say without Vainglory) Never yet branded with Suspicion? Have I, with all my full Affections Still met the King? Loved him next Heaven? Obeyed him? Been (out of fondness) superstitious to him? Almost forgot my prayers to content him? And am I thus rewarded? 'Tis not well Lords. Bring me a constant woman to her Husband, One that ne'er dreamed a joy, beyond his pleasure; And to that Woman (when she has done most) Yet will I add an Honour; a great Patience. Madam, you wander from the good We aim at. My Lord, I dare not make myself so guilty, To give up willingly that Noble Title Your Master wed me to: nothing but death Shall e'er divorce my Dignities. Pray hear me. Would I had never trod this English Earth, Or felt the Flatteries that grow upon it: Ye have Angels Faces; but Heaven knows your hearts. What will become of me now, wretched Lady? I am the most unhappy Woman living. Alas (poor Wenches) where are now your Fortunes? Shipwrecked upon a Kingdom, where no Pity, No Friends, no Hope, no Kindred weep for me? Almost no Grave allowed me? Like the Lily That once was Mistress of the Field, and flourished, I'll hang my head, and perish. If your Grace Can but be brought to know, our Ends are honest, you'd feel more comfort. Why should we (good Lady) Upon what cause wrong you? Alas, our Places, The way of our Profession is against it; We are to Cure such sorrows, not to sow 'em. For Goodness sake, consider what you do, How you may hurt yourself: I, utterly Grow from the King's Acquaintance, by this Carriage. The hearts of Princes kiss Obedience, So much they love it. But to stubborn Spirits, They swell and grow, as terrible as storms. I know you have a Gentle, Noble temper, A Soul as even as a Calm; Pray think us, Those we profess, Peacemakers, Friends, and Servants. Madam, you'll find it so: You wrong your Virtues With these weak women's fears. A Noble Spirit As yours was, put into you, ever casts Such doubts as false Coin from it. The King loves you, Beware you lose it not: For us (if you please To trust us in your business) we are ready To use our utmost Studies, in your service. Do what ye will, my Lords: And pray forgive me; If I have used myself unmannerly, You know I am a Woman, lacking wit To make a seemly answer to such persons. Pray do my service to his Majesty, He has my heart yet, and shall have my Prayers While I shall have my life. Come reverend Fathers, Bestow your Counsels on me. She now begs That little thought when she set footing here, She should have bought her Dignities so dear.
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)
Haue I liu'd thus long (let me ſpeake my ſelfe, Since Vertue findes no friends) a Wife, a true one? A Woman (I dare ſay without Vainglory) Neuer yet branded with Suſpition? Haue I, with all my full Affections Still met the King? Lou'd him next Heau'n? Obey'd him? Bin (out of fondneſſe) ſuperſtitious to him? Almoſt forgot my Prayres to content him? And am I thus rewarded? 'Tis not well Lords. Bring me a conſtant woman to her Husband, One that ne're dream'd a Ioy, beyond his pleaſure; And to that Woman (when ſhe has done moſt) Yet will I adde an Honor; a great Patience. Madam, you wander from the good We ayme at. My Lord, I dare not make my ſelfe ſo guiltie, To giue vp willingly that Noble Title Your Maſter wed me to: nothing but death Shall e're diuorce my Dignities. Pray heare me. Would I had neuer trod this Engliſh Earth, Or felt the Flatteries that grow vpon it: Ye haue Angels Faces; but Heauen knowes your hearts. What will become of me now, wretched Lady? I am the moſt vnhappy Woman liuing. Alas (poore Wenches) where are now your Fortunes? Shipwrack'd vpon a Kingdome, where no Pitty, No Friends, no Hope, no Kindred weepe for me? Almoſt no Graue allow'd me? Like the Lilly That once was Miſtris of the Field, and flouriſh'd, Ile hang my head, and periſh. If your Grace Could but be brought to know, our Ends are honeſt, Youl'd feele more comfort. Why ſhold we (good Lady) Vpon what cauſe wrong you? Alas, our Places, The way of our Profeſſion is againſt it; We are to Cure ſuch ſorrowes, not to ſowe 'em. For Goodneſſe ſake, conſider what you do, How you may hurt your ſelfe: I, vtterly Grow from the Kings Acquaintance, by this Carriage. The hearts of Princes kiſſe Obedience, So much they loue it. But to ſtubborne Spirits, They ſwell and grow, as terrible as ſtormes. I know you haue a Gentle, Noble temper, A Soule as euen as a Calme; Pray thinke vs, Thoſe we profeſſe, Peace-makers, Friends, and Seruants. Madam, you'l finde it ſo: You wrong your Vertues With theſe weake Womens feares. A Noble Spirit As yours was, put into you, euer caſts Such doubts as falſe Coine from it. The King loues you, Beware you looſe it not: For vs (if you pleaſe To truſt vs in your buſineſſe) we are ready To vſe our vtmoſt Studies, in your ſeruice. Do what ye will, my Lords: And pray forgiue me; If I haue vs'd my ſelfe vnmannerly, You know I am a Woman, lacking wit To make a ſeemely anſwer to ſuch perſons. Pray do my ſeruice to his Maieſtie, He ha's my heart yet, and ſhall haue my Prayers While I ſhall haue my life. Come reuerend Fathers, Beſtow your Councels on me. She now begges That little thought when ſhe ſet footing heere, She ſhould haue bought her Dignities ſo deere.