Davenant, William · published 1629 · first performed or written 1628 [1626-1629] (Annals) tragedy · Unacted unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 497 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
He bruised me in his arms. Can love express Such violence, and yet be false? Hermegild Still whispers in my ear, the King doth hate Thee, Paradine. But Hermegild is read in all The Arts of Court, and strives perhaps My sense to poison with lean jealousy. Sweet Lord! Y' appear blushing like the Morn! Something your Bride and you have done t' increase The number of the Worthies. He courts me too! I want a Perspective, To draw these distant figures near my sight. I ne'er shall sleep again. Hermegild, thy aspect shows ominous! How thrives our embassy? I have consumed my breath, till I grew faint, And wept to invite her mercy; but tears Were spilled like water in the Forge, only T' enrage the fire. She doth abjure your visit. Harsh, Iron, nature! The King seems fettered in his limbs: he wreathes His arms, as if he meant to bruise his heart. And Paradine doth find my charms predominant. He that drinks, forfeits his mortality! How Sir, must we not drink? Soldier, to keep thy bladder moist, I will Permit thee gape i'th' morning's face, and catch Her mizzling tears. If you'll extirpate this vice of drinking, Give order for a privy search i'th' the Ocean; There dwell the greatest drinkers. The Whale (Sir) Drinks deeper let's hale her on shore, and impound her In a Cistern. Good! we will embark for Sea. I press thee up For this employment. Stay (Sir) ere I engage myself in new Services, pay me for my old. You rest Upon my Ticket, six thousand Ducats; And I have not seen your Majesty's face In any other metal, but your own Flesh and blood these three months. Thou grumblest like a grey Wolf. 'tis then for hunger, Sir. Captain, you mistake the King. He's Royal As his blood, and liberal as the Sun That shines on all. This unruly breath, where The City meet in council, might perhaps Blow their Purse-strings loose, so fill the Exchequer. And than you shall number your pay with your own Fingers. I will outroar thunder, or the Cannon! Must they still walk in wealthy Furs; whilst men Of merit here are clothed in cabbage leaves? Grimold, you endanger your friends. My Lord, give losers leave to speak. I've lost My youth and blood i'th' wars, and I want food, A reverend Ass bears my wife and her young eggs In Paniers up and down the streets. I travail Like a Tartar, with all my family About me. Nay, nay, nay! you would be gone! Art thou not yet dead? You must not move, till you've paid me. I know, You may be angry with more safety than I. Bid some Colossus of your Guard cleave me With his Falchon; yet I shall steal a passage o'er the black River, when Charon slumbers, And fright your Grace. I dare not strike thee (old man) lest thou shouldst fall To dust, and choke me.
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)
He bruis'd me in his armes. Can loue expreſſe Such violence, and yet be falſe? Hermegild Still whiſpers in my eare, the King doth hate Thee, Paradine. But Hermegild is read in all The Arts of Court, and ſtriues perhaps My ſence to poyſon with leane iealouſie. Sweet Lord! Y' appeare bluſhing like the Morne! Something your Bride and you haue done t' increaſe The number of the Worthies. He courts me too! I want a Perſpectiue, To draw theſe diſtant figures neere my ſight. I ne're ſhall ſleepe agen. Hermegild, thy aſpect ſhewes ominous! How thriues our embaſie? I haue conſum'd my breath, till I grew faint, And wept to inuite her mercy; but teares Were ſpilt like water in the Forge, onely T' inrage the fire. She doth abiure your viſit. Harſh, Iron, nature! The King ſeemes fetter'd in his lims: he wreathes His armes, as if he meant to bruiſe his heart. And Paradine doth find my charmes predominant. He that drinks, forfeits his mortalitie! How Sir, muſt we not drink? Souldier, to keepe thy bladder moyſt, I will Permit thee gape i'th mornings face, and catch Her mizzling teares. If you'll extirpate this vice of drinking, Giue order for a priuy ſearch i'th the Ocean; There dwell the greateſt drinkers. The VVhale (Sir) Drinks deeper let's hale her on ſhore, and impownd her In a Ceſterne. Good! we will imbarke for Sea. I preſſe thee vp For this imployment. Stay (Sir) ere I ingage my ſelfe in new Seruices, pay me for my old. You reſt Vpon my Ticket, ſix thouſand Duckats; And I haue not ſeene your Maieſties face In any other metall, but your owne Fleſh and blood theſe three moneths. Thou grumbleſt like a gray VVolfe. Tis then for hunger, Sir. Captaine, you miſtake the King. He's Royall As his blood, and liberall as the Sunne That ſhines on all. This vnruly breath, where The Citie meete in councell, might perhaps▪ Blow their Purſe-ſtrings looſe, ſo fill the Exchequer. And then you ſhall number your pay with your owne Fingers. I will out-rore thunder, or the Cannon! Muſt they ſtill walke in wealthy Furres; whilſt men Of merit here are cloth'd in Cabidge leaues? Grimold, you indanger your friends. My Lord, giue loſers leaue to ſpeake. I'ue loſt My youth and blood ith'warres, and I want food, A reuerend Aſſe beares my wife and her young egges In Paniers vp and downe the ſtreets. I trauaile Like a Tartar, with all my family About me. Nay, nay, nay! you would be gon! Art thou not yet dead? You muſt not moue, till y'haue paid me. I know, You may be angry with more ſafety then I. Bid ſome Coloſſus of your Guard cleaue me With his Falchon; yet I ſhall ſteale a paſſage Ore the blacke Riuer, when Charon ſlumbers, And fright your Grace. I dare not ſtrike thee (old man) leſt thou ſhouldſt fall To duſt, and choke me.