Davenant, William · published 1629 · first performed or written 1628 [1626-1629] (Annals) tragedy · Unacted unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Sir, you are great on Earth! I am merely Your creation. My passions do afford Your high delight all sympathy. Old Time hath thrown his feathers from his heels, And slowly limps in's motion to prolong This Triumph: but if Paradine affront Hymen, and me with sullen rage, it shall Be called my piety to suffer. How! your Excellence ought t'excuse my speech! When your victorious sword deprived me of My Father; I entered to captivity, As to th'oblique shade, where death inhabits. Till you allowed me Hermegild; who with His high Philosophy did make My bondage sweet. My Father loved him well: He was his noblest Servant, and must not For his virtues suffer, until your sacred tongue Forbid me share with you in Sovereignty. Boy, this was a bold crime. You must not give Me cause to chide my fond heart. Valdaura, Urge him to proffer friendship Unto Hermegild; you are powerful o'er his nature. I have deserved to lose My chief prerogative— I am too timorous to deal with anger: If he prove stern of nature, my Marriage Is my funeral. My Lord! Paradine, I've an humble love. I will Present it first to your refusal— I want your phrase, to make my manners seem Less rugged. All that is love, I cherish With such religious heat, as my Valdaura Claims, since our young Nuptial— This embracement is a sacrifice To thee my Queen: whose deity Consists of love. Sit, and with your Persons, straight entrench the Table. Some wine! Fill in my German Plate; I'll drink as when I'm hot with victory. This to my Bride— Sound high! More wine, and noise! Now Boy, I celebrate Valdaura's health— Bid their Instruments speak louder. They're afraid to wake the Neighbours. This is legitimate blood of the rich Corsic Grape: precious as thy tears (My Royal Girl) when thou art penitent To heaven. Spare me in the next, and I'll esteem you Courteous; so much wine will put me to the charge Of Physic. Your Lordship owns it as a prime virtue— Shall the world bleed? but frown, and thou renew'st A Chaos. Malign the pride of some far Eastern Queen, whom travelers bely, And I will forage there, like loud thunder! Or like the Northern wind upon the Main, Where lazy Hulks are tossed like chips. I merit no such compliment. I'll do't. 'tis thought, I am immortal. The chief of my great Ancestors, that made A wild incursion o'er this fertile soil, Was but a type of me. More wine!— Thy breath Is as the smoke of spices. I taste thy Melting lips, and straight engender kisses. Heart! Boy, you are too ravenous! I ever held your Majesty my best Example. Kisses nimbly gathered, The faster grow. The Lombard's use to share this sport! Is not your name Pigwiggin? Pigwiggin! your Grace was wont to call me Cunymond: I am no Fairy.
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)
Sir, you are great on Earth! I am meerely Your creation. My paſſions doe afford Your high delight all ſympathy. Old Time hath throwne his feathers from his heeles, And ſlowly limps in's motion to prolong This Triumph: but if Paradine affront Hymen, and me with ſullen rage, it ſhall Be call'd my piety to ſuffer. How! your Excellence ought t'excuſe my ſpeech! VVhen your victorious ſword depriu'd me of My Father; I enter'd to captiuity, As to th'oblique ſhade, where death inhabits. Till you allowd me Hermegild; who with His high Philoſophy did make My bondage ſweete. My Father lou'd him well: He was his nobleſt Seruant, and muſt not For his vertues ſuffer, vntill your ſacred tongue Forbid me ſhare with you in Soueraignty. Boy, this was a bold crime. You muſt not giue Me cauſe to chide my fond heart. Valdaura, Vrge him to proffer friendſhip Vnto Hermegild; you are powerfull Ore his nature. I haue deſeru'd to loſe My chiefe prerogatiue— I am too timorous to deale with anger: If he prooue ſterne of nature, my Marriage Is my funerall. My Lord! Paradine, I'ue an humble loue. I will Preſent it firſt to your refuſall— I want your phraſe, to make my manners ſeeme Leſſe rugged. All that is loue, I cheriſh With ſuch religious heate, as my Valdaura Claimes, ſince our young Nuptiall— This embracement is a ſacrifice To thee my Queene: whoſe deity Conſiſts of loue. Sit, and with your Perſons, ſtraight intrench the Table. Some wine! Fill in my Germane Plate; Ile drinke as when I'm hot with victory. This to my Bride— Sound high! More wine, and noiſe! Now Boy, I celebrate Valdaura's health — Bid their Inſtruments ſpeake lowder. They're afraid to wake the Neighbours. This is legitimate blood of the rich Corſick Grape: precious as thy teares (My Royall Girle) when thou art penitent To heauen. Spare me in the next, and Ile eſteeme you Courteous; ſo much wine will put me to the charge Of Phyſicke. Your Lordſhip ownes it as a prime vertue — Shall the world bleed? but frowne, and thou renew'ſt A Chaos. Maligne the pride of ſome farre Eaſterne Queene, whom Trauellers bely, And I will forage there, like loud thunder! Or like the Northerne winde vpon the Maine, Where lazie Hulkes are toſs'd like chips. I merit no ſuch complement. Ile do't. Tis thought, I am immortall. The chiefe of my great Anceſtors, that made A wilde incurſion ore this fertill ſoile, Was but a tipe of me. More wine! — Thy breath Is as the ſmoke of ſpices. I taſte thy Melting lippes, and ſtraight ingender kiſſes. Heart! Boy, you are too rauenous! I euer held your Maieſty my beſt Example. Kiſſes nimbly gather'd, The faſter grow. The Lombards vſe to ſhare this ſport! Is not your name Pigwiggin? Pigwiggin! your Grace was wont to call me Cunymond: I am no Faery.