The Grateful Servant (The Faithful Servant) · chunk 17 of 38
Shirley, James · published 1630 · first performed or written 1629 [licensed for stage, Nov 3] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
I prithee do, and hasten the discharge Of my sad embassy, which when I have done, And that it prospers in mine own misfortune, I'll teach my breath to pray. A glorious fate courts your acceptance, and I hope your 〈◊〉 Will teach you how to meet it, y'ave received His highness bosom, now I'll take my leave, Will you not see the Prince again? I saw his highness walking with Grimundo▪ Toward the Garden, and the Duke expects me▪— Think of a Duchess Madam. I'm not worthy, And needs must sink, under the weight of such A title, my humblest service to his Grace, I am his beadswoman. Madam, here's the Youth. Art thou returned already? why were you So rude to make him wait. Since I arriv'd, 'tis but a pair of minutes. They are worth As many days. He shall be with your ladyship, Next time, before he come, when I but spy him A mile off, I'll acquaint you, in my duty To yourself, and my honour unto him. Withdraw. Here is no couch, I do not like My Lady's familiarity with a boy, Me thinks a man were fit, and more able To give her a refreshing, but this Lobby Shall be my next remove. You will repent This welcome Madam. What harsh sound is that? Thy looks upon a sudden are become Dismall, thy brow dull as Saturnes i. Thy lips are hung with black, as if thy tongue Were to pronounce some funeral. It is, But let your virtue place a guard about Your eare, it is too weak a sense to trust With a sad tale, that may disperse too soon. The kill Syllables, and some one, or other Find out your heart. The Mandrake hath no voice Like this, the raven, and the night birds sing More soft, nothing in Nature, to which fear Hath made us superstitious, but speaks gently Compared with thee, discharge thy fatal burden, I am prepared, or stay, but answer me, I will and save thee breath, and quickly know The total of my sorrow, is Foscari Dead since I saw thee last? Or hath some wound, Or other dire misfortune sealed him for The grave, that though he yet live, I may bid My heart despair to see him? None of these, Since last I saw you Madam. None of these? Then I despise all sorrow boy, there is Not left another mischief in my fate, Call home thy beauty, why dost look so pale? See I am armed, and can with valiant blood, Hear thee discourse of my terror row, Me thinks I can in the assurance of His safety, hear of battles, Tempest, Death, With all the horrid shapes that poet's fancy, Tell me the tale of Troy, or Rome on fire, Rich in the trophies of the conquered world, I will not shed so many tears, to save The temples, as my joy doth sacrifice, To hear my Lord is well.
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)
I prethee do, and hasten the discharge Of my sad Embassie, which when I haue done, And that it prospers in mine owne misfortune, Ile teach my breath to pray. A glorious fate Corts your aceptance, and I hope your Will teach you how to meete it, y'aue receiu'd His Hghnesse bosome, now Ile take my leaue, Will you not see the Prince againe? I saw his Highnesse walking with Grimund▪ Toward the Garden, and the Duke expects me▪— Thinke of a Dutches Madam. I'me not worthy, And needs must sinke, vnder the weight of such A title, my humblest Seruice to his Grace, I am his beades-woman. Madam, here's the Youth. Art thou return'd already? why were you So rude to make him waite. Since I arri'd, Tis but a paire of minutes. They are worth As many dayes. He shall be with your Ladiship, Next time, before he come, when I but spy him A mile off, Ile acquaint you, in my duty To your selfe, and my honour vnto him. Withdraw. Here is no couch, I doe not like My Ladies familiarity with a boy, Me thinkes a man were fitter, and more able To giue her a refreshing, but this Lobby Shall be my next remoue. You will repen This welcome Madam. What harsh sound is that? Thy lookes vpon a suddaine are become Dismall, thy brow dull as Saturnes i. Thy lips are hung with blacke, as if thy tongue Were to pronounce some Funrall. It is, But let your vertue place a gard about Your are, it is too weake a sence to trust With a sad tale, that may disperse too soone. The killing Syllables, and some one, or other Find out your heart. The Mandrake hath no voice Like this, the Rauen, and the night birds sing More soft, nothing in Nature, to which feare Hath made vs superstitious, but speakes gently Compar'd with thee, discharge thy fatall burden, I am prepar'd, or stay, but answere me, I will and saue thee breath, and quickly know The totall of my sorrow, is Fosari Dead since I saw thee last? Or hath some wound, Or other dire misfortune seal'd him for The graue, that though he yet liue, I may bid My heart dispaire to see him? None of these, Since last I saw you Madam. None of these? Then I despise all sorrow boy, there is Not left another mischiefe in my fate, Call home thy beautie, why dost looke so pale? See I am arm'd, and can with valiant bloud, Heare thee discourse of my terrour row, Me thinkes I can in the assurance of His safety, heare of Battailes, Tempest, Death, With all the horrid shapes that Poets fancie, Tell me the tale of Troy, or Rome on fire, Rich in the trophies of the conquered world, I will not shed so many teares, to saue The temples, as my ioy doth sacrifice, To heare my Lord is well.