Davenant, William · published 1629 · first performed or written 1628 [1626-1629] (Annals) tragedy · Unacted T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.78 · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
Trust my obedience, and my skill, Sir. He looks like a watchman in that Rug. Your Majesty receives new cause to doubt The truth of his disease, from my servants Information. Who swears, this very Morn He hath been seen in all the violence Of drink, and i'th' Burdelli too. For, Sir, Though he be old, he's given much to propagation. Let us retire 'tween th'Arras, and we Shall share, i'th' whole discovery. Alas, who is't, that so provokes the tongue Of pity! An old soldier o' the Kings— Hah! Captain Grimold! how come you thus Imprisoned in a Chair? have you the Gout? I am not rich enough t'enjoy the Gout. What name then do you give to your disease! The Physicians call it famine. How? Heaven secure the State! I hope we are Not guilty of a sin so horrible, To deny a Soldier fit materials For conservation of his life. 'tis fourteen days since I have had a just Occasion but to pick my teeth. Alas the day! Each of my thighs are dried, and hardened like An old Westphalia Flitch. All m'entrails Are shrunk up. My bladder is no bigger than A Pigs: and were my lean jaws unmuffled, You should see me mump, like a Matron that Had lost her teeth. O cruel stars!— Hah! Does she weep? Could you on this wide Earth, find no object For your fury, but brave Grimold? Or is't Because you saw, it was my chief virtue To affect a Soldier? If she should be in earnest now? I hope you do not utterly despair of life? I may linger out a score of years, or so; But I cannot live long. Since you are marked for sudden death, cold death That silenceth all tongues: and since this place Is so secure from neighbouring ears, I will Disclose, what until now my modesty Enforced me to conceal. I shall forget to counterfeit! Know, Sir, that I have loved you long; loved you With soft and tender passion. O Rogue! What do I like the picture Of Winter, in this withered habit? I must Recover my health. But alas, madam, Do not deride his destiny, that now Is taking flight to reach that place, where your Best Star inhabits, and shall have power To tell loud tales: if you prove thus cruel. How could you e'er love me? I have been old, Even since your first original growth. But if you will permit, I may express A little vanity in love, I can Inform you, Sir, how much we Ladies prize Age before Youth in Lovers. Old men are Discreet sinners, and offend with silence. But young men, when the game is done, do crow Like pregnant Cocks: boast to the world their strength In folly. Besides (Sir) an authentic Lady says in her Problems thus: The Young and slender Graft is easily broke, But who can shake, or bruise the aged Oak?
nodes 1677–1745 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 25 of 39 in this edition
Length
493 words · 655 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.782 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T3 · seed 44: T4 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Truſt my obedience, and my skill, Sir. He lookes like a watchman in that Rugge. Your Maieſty receiues new cauſe to doubt The truth of his diſeaſe, from my Seruants Information. Who ſweares, this very Morne Hee hath been ſeene in all the violence Of drinke, and ith' Burdelli too. For, Sir, Though he be old, he's giuen much to propagation. Let vs retire 'tweene th'Arras, and we Shall ſhare, ith'whole diſcouery. Alas, who is't, that ſo prouokes the tongue Of pitty! An old ſouldier o' the Kings— Hah! Captaine Grimold! how come you thus Impriſon'd in a Chaire? haue you the Gowte? I am not rich enough t'inioy the Gowte. What name then doe you giue to your diſeaſe! The Phyſicions call it famine. How? Heauen ſecure the State! I hope we are Not guilty of a ſinne ſo horrible, To deny a Souldier fit materials For conſeruation of his life. Tis fourteene dayes ſince I haue had a iuſt Occaſion but to picke my teeth. Alas the day! Each of my thighes are dry'd, and hardned like An old Weſt-Falia Flitch. All m'interals Are ſhrunke vp. My bladder is no bigger then A Pigs: and were my leane iawes vnmuffled, You ſhould ſee me mumpe, like a Matrone that Had loſt her teeth. O cruell ſtarres! — Hah! Does ſhe weepe? Could you on this wide Earth, finde no obiect For your fury, but braue Grimold? Or is't Becauſe you ſaw, it was my chiefe vertue To affect a Souldier? If ſhe ſhould be in earneſt now? I hope you doe not vtterly deſpaire of life? I may linger out a ſcore of yeeres, or ſo; But I cannot liue long. Since you are mark'd for ſudden death, cold death That ſilenceth all tongues: and ſince this place Is ſo ſecure from neighbouring eares, I will Diſcloſe, what vntill now my modeſty Inforc'd me to conceale. I ſhall forget to counterfeit! Know, Sir, that I haue lou'd you long; lou'd you With ſoft and tender paſſion. O Rogue! VVhat doe I like the picture Of VVinter, in this wither'd habit? I muſt Recouer my health. But alas, Madame, Doe not deride his deſtiny, that now Is taking flight to reach that place, where your Beſt Starre inhabits, and ſhall haue power To tell loud tales: if you prooue thus cruell. How could you e're loue me? I haue been old, Euen ſince your firſt originall growth. But if you will permit, I may expreſſe A little vanity in loue, I can Informe you, Sir, how much we Ladies prize Age before Youth in Louers. Old men are Diſcreet ſinners, and offend with ſilence. But young men, when the game is done, doe crow Like pregnant Cocks: boaſt to the world their ſtrength In folly. Beſides (Sir) an authentick Lady ſayes in her Problemes thus: The Young and ſlender Graft is eaſly broke, But who can ſhake, or bruiſe the aged Oke?