Carlell, Lodowick · published 1629 · first performed or written 1629 [c.1622-1629] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · before the Court T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.85 · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
madam, it's true, She hath indeed the most deserving man That then did live, the Duke, given to her For a servant: but when the heavens saw That she did refuse him whom they knew Was only worthy of her, they left her then To her unhappy choice, in me, in which She cannot fail to be miserable, And that they might torment her with The knowledge of her error, they took from The earth unto themselves whom she refused, Making him equal unto one of them. Lysander, I will give you leave to praise the Duke, Because it still tends to your greater praise, Since you did overcome him both by your valour, And your other merits: for fair Clarinda Whose judgement is complete, esteem you For the worthier, Lysander never was there man So blessed as you are, in a Master, for it is As impossible to equal her in love, As in perfection; for though she know that her Perfections far transcendeth mine, yet her Excess of love did make her jealous, whenas I told her I had saved your life; And how, but I to show her that I loved You only as a brother, did tell her where You were, and much I wonder that she Is not come. It may be she doth wisely fear that there Are some that watch each step she maketh, Hoping by that to find me out; for now It is no news that she doth love me, When I am at Florence I'll send her word, For so I promised her in a Letter when I went To fight, if that I escaped with life. You shall not go to Florence today, Yet do so, and be not sad to go; For when my Brother's passion is once over, And that he shall consider the justness Of the Duke's request, in his last Letter, I mean your pardon, he cannot sure Be any longer cruel. Why madam, Did he write a Letter to the King, In which he begged my pardon? Yes Lysander, he did; And the last word that ere he spoke, was To that purpose, the letter I can show you, I never till this day could get it from my Brother. He in this Letter doth express himself To be so near the composition of the Gods, So filled with all perfections, methinks it's strange They should not build him altars: yet my infortunate Hand did rob the world of this precious jewel; For which offence my heart shall drop in justice As many bloody tears, as now my womanish tears Do drops of brinish water. Worthy Lysander, Each pearl like drop falls from thy manly eyes, May expiate a greater sin than that thou didst Commit in thy intention: I cannot choose But kiss thee for this noble sorrow. Say Mariana, Have I done ill to kiss your Brother?
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)
Madame, its true, She hath indeed the moſt deſeruing man That then did liue, the Duke, giuen to her For a ſeruant: but when the heauens ſaw That ſhe did refuſe him whom they knew Was onely worthy of her, they left her then To her vnhappie choice, in me, in which She cannot faile to be miſerable, And that they might torment her with The knowledge of her error, they tooke from The earth vnto themſelues whom ſhe refuſed, Making him equall vnto one of them. Lyſander, I wil giue you leaue to praiſe the Duke, Becauſe it ſtill tends to your greater praiſe, Since you did ouercome him both by your valor, And your other merits: for faire Clarinda Whoſe iudgement is compleat, eſteeme you For the worthier, Lyſander neuer was there man So bleſt as you are, in a Maſter, for it is As impoſſible to equall her in loue, As in perfection; for though ſhe know that her Perfections farre tranſcendeth mine, yet her Exceſſe of loue did make her iealous, When as I told her I had ſau'd your life; And how, but I to ſhew her that I loued You only as a brother, did tell her where You were, and much I wonder that ſhe Is not come. It may be ſhe doth wiſely feare that there Are ſome that watch each ſtep ſhe maketh, Hoping by that to find mee out; for now It is no newes that ſhe doth loue me, When I am at Florence Ile ſend her word, For ſo I promis'd her in a Letter when I went To fight, if that I eſcap'd with life. You ſhall not goe to Florence to day, Yet doe ſo, and bee not ſad to goe; For when my Brothers paſſion is once ouer, And that he ſhall conſider the iuſtneſſe Of the Dukes requeſt, in his laſt Letter, I meane your pardon, hee cannot ſure Be any longer cruell. Why Madame, Did he write a Letter to the King, In which he beg'd my pardon? Yes Lyſander, he did; And the laſt word that ere hee ſpake, was To that purpoſe, the letter I can ſhew you, I neuer till this day could get it from my Brother. He in this Letter doth expreſſe himſelfe To be ſo neere the compoſition of the Gods, So fild with all perfections, me thinkes it's ſtrange They ſhold not build him altars: yet my infortunate Hand did rob the world of this precious Iewell; For which offence my heart ſhall drop in iuſtice As many bloudy teares, as now my womaniſh teares Doe drops of briniſh water. Worthy Lyſander, Each pearle like drop fals from thy manly eyes, May expiate a greater ſinne then that thou didſt Commit in thy intention: I cannot chuſe But kiſſe thee for this noble ſorrow. Say Mariana, Haue I done ill to kiſſe your Brother?