Davenant, William · published 1630 · first performed or written 1627 [licensed for stage, Jan 12] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy · 500 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
forest, No, no, my Stars, it is too much to bear, Though I were stomached like an ostrich, Yet could I not digest such hard dealing. My Wife defiled, Corsa ravished. The Count Abused where satisfaction is exempt By Nature. myself proscribed to suffer By the cheap valour of obscure Villains. Would I had trodden the humble path, and made My industry less ambitious. The Shrub securely grows. The tallest Tree, stands Most in the wind. And thus we distinguish The Noble from the base: the Noble find Their lives, and deaths still trouble some: But humility doth sleep, whilst the storm Grows hoarse with scolding My Gall o'erflows my heart: And drowns propitious Thoughts. I will be just Yet cruel too. The darkness of the Night Is thick. I feel as I grope for way— Stay— That sickly light from her chamber breaks. Minion I'll begin with you. Sing gentle youth; who knows if I shall live T'employ thy voice again. Boy. Weep no more for what is passed For Time in motion makes such haste He hath no leisure to descry Those errors which he passeth by. If we consider Accident, And how repugnant unto sense, It pays desert with bad event: We shall disparage Providence. This is your Dirge, Hah! who is there? 'tis. I. Dismiss that trifle hence, and shut The door. Farewell Youth! Get he to bed. But where's the wriggled Hag; th' incestuous lump Of heat? where is she, speak? Alas Sir, who do you mean? Why she that Gossips with the devil's Dam, The subtle Bawd, your Woman. O Sister! Corsa kneels. I have heard all.— Nay do not work distinction thus. Kneel not to me; you are my patron's wife. But yet where obligation is endeared; There Injury condemns itself. Can you survive a wrong so eminent: a wrong Committed 'gainst your Husband, and my Patron? O Sir! I hope if you have heard the truth: You will conclude it as a rape i'th' Duke; And no adultery in me. How, a rape! o weak, and immodest shift, Were Aretine alive; or had I brought A Crew of Midwives here: whose obscene art Might warrant the distinction good; Although the cause did blush, to own th'effect; Yet thy appeal might stand: but here are none. If compulsion doth insist, until Enforcement breed delight, we cannot say, The female suffers. Acceptance at the last, Disparageth the not consenting at the first: Calls her denial, her unskilfulness; And not a virtuous frost i'th' blood. Come, sit thee down.— Or if ye mean to pray, Kneel, and be nimble in devotion. That art to die. My Noble Brother! Do not fright my sufferance: use me kindly With your tongue, and looks: I am already Reconciled to Heaven; and would perhaps Consent to your design. Blessed speech! thou shalt prescribe my gesture And my Phrase. 'twere not unnatural in me, to wish For life! yet minding what constructions The world may make of my sinister chance—
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)
FORESTE, No, no, my Starres, it is too much to beare, Though I were ſtomach'd like an Eſtridge, Yet could I not digeſt ſuch hard dealing. My Wife defil'd, Corſa rauiſh'd. The Count Abus'd where ſatisfaction is exempt By Nature. My ſelfe proſcrib'd to ſuffer By the cheape vallour of obſcure Villaines. Would I had trode the humble path, and made My induſtry leſſe ambitious. The Shrub Sccurelie growes. The talleſt Tree, ſtands Moſt in the winde. And thus we diſtinguiſh The Noble from the baſe: the Noble finde Their liues, and deaths ſtill trouble ſome: But humility doth ſleepe, whilſt the ſtorme Growes horce with ſcolding My Gall o'reflowes my heart: And drownes propitious Thoughts. I will be iuſt Yet cruell too. The darkeneſſe of the Night Is thicke. I feele as I grope for way— Stay—That ſickly light from her chamber breaks. Minion le beginne with you. Sing gentle youth; who knowes if I ſhall liue Timploy thy voyce agen. Boy. Weepe no more for what is paſt For Time in motion makes ſuch haſt He hath no leaſure to diſcry Thoſe errors which he paſſeth by. If we conſider Accident, And how repugnant vnto ſence, It pays deſert with bad euent: We ſhall diſparedge Prouidence. This is your Dirge, Hah! who is there? Tis. I. Diſmiſſe that triſle hence, and ſhut The doore. Farewell Youth! Get hee to bed. But where's the rigled Hagg; th' inceſtuous lump Of heate? where is ſhe, ſpeake? Alas Sir, who doe you meane? Why ſhe that Goſsips with the Deuils Damme, The ſubtill Bawde, your Woman. O Siſter! Corſa kneeles. I haue heard all.—Nay doe not worke diſtinction thus. Kneele not to me; you are my Patrons wife. But yet where obligation is indeer'd; There Iniurie condemns it ſelfe. Can you Suruie a wrong ſo eminent: a wrong Committed' gainſt your Husband, and my Patron? O Sir! I hope if you haue heard the trueth: You will conclude it as a rape i'th' Duke; And no adultery in me. How, a rape! o weake, and immodeſt ſhift, Were Aretine aliue; or had I brought A Crew of Midwiues heere: whoſe obſcene art Might warrant the diſtinction good; Although the cauſe did bluſh, to owne th'effect; Yet thy appeale might ſtand: but heere are none. If compulſion doth inſiſt, vntill Enforcement breed delight, we cannot ſay, The femall ſuffers. Acceptance at the laſt, Diſparageth the not conſenting at the firſt: Calls her dniall, her vnskilfulneſſe; And not a virtuous froſt i'th' blood. Come, ſit thee downe.—Or if ye meane to pray, Kneele, and be nimble in deuotion. That art to dye. My Noble Brother! Doe not fright my ſufferance: vſe me kindly With your tongue, and lookes: I am already Reconcil'd to Heauen; and would perhaps Conſent to your deſigne. Bleſſed ſpeech! thou ſhalt preſcribe my geſture And my Phraſe. T'were not vnnaturall in me, to wiſh For life yet minding what constructions The world may make of my ſiniſter chance—