The Renegado, or The Gentleman of Venice · chunk 35 of 39
Massinger, Philip · published 1630 · first performed or written 1624 [licensed for stage, Sep 17] [incorrect] (Annals) tragicomedy · Lady Elizabeth's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T28 Marriage-making: weddings, brides and ma · 513 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T28: married, marriage, wedding, day, bride, father, wife, luce, love, husband.
Do your pleasure, I only offered you a friend's advice, But without gall, or envy to the man That is to suffer. But what do you determine Of poor Grimaldi? the disgrace called on him I here has run him mad. There weigh the difference In the true temper of their minds. The one, A Pirate sold to mischiefs, rapes, and all That make a slave relentless, and obdurate; Yet of himself wanting the inward strengths That should defend him, sinks beneath compassion Or pity of a man; where as this merchant, Acquainted only with a civil life, Armed in himself; entrenched, and fortified With his own virtue, valuing life and death, At the same price, poorly does not invite A favour, but commands us do him right, Which unto him, and her (we both once honoured As a just debt I gladly pay ''em; they enter, Now sit we equal hearers. I shall hear And see, sir, without passion, my wrongs arm me. A joyful preparation! To whose bounty Owe we our thanks for gracing thus our Hymen? The notes though dreadful to the ear, sound here As our Epithalamium were sung By a Celestial choir, and a full Chorus Assure us future happiness. These that lead me Gaze not with wanton eyes upon my bride, Nor for their service are repaid by me With jealousies, or fears; nor do they envy My passage to those pleasures from which death Cannot deter me. Great sir pardon me; Imagination of the joys I haste to, Made me forget my duty, but the form And ceremony past, I will attend you, And with our constant resolution feast you, Not with course cates, forgot as soon as tasted, But such as shall, while you have memory, Be pleasing to the palate. Be not lost In what you purpose. Call you this a marriage? It differs little from hanging, I cry at it. See where my bride appears! in what full luster? As if the Virgins that bear up her train, Had long contended to receive an honour Above their births, in doing her this service. Nor comes she fearful to meet those delights, Which once passed over, immortal pleasures follow. I need not therefore comfort, or encourage Her forward steps, and I should offer wrong To her mind's fortitude, should I but ask How she can brook the rough high going Sea, Over whose foamy back our ship well rigged With hope and strong assurance must transport us. Nor will I tell her when we reach the Haven (Which tempests shall not hinder) what loud welcome Shall entertain us; nor commend the place, To tell whose least perfection would strike dumb The eloquence of all boasted in story, Though joined together. 'tis enough my dearest; I dare not doubt you, as your humble shadow Lead where you please, I follow. One suit sir, And willingly I cease to be a beggar, And that you may with more security hear it, Know 'tis not life I'll ask, nor to defer Our deaths, but a few minutes.
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)
Doe your pleasure, I only offer'd you a friends aduice, But vvithout gall, or enuy to the man That is to suffer. But vvhat doe you determine Of poore Grimaldi? the disgrace cal'd on him I heere has ran him madde. There waigh the difference In the true temper of their minds. The one, A Pirat sould to mischiefes, rapes, and all That make a slaue relentlesse, and obdurate; Yet of himselfe vvanting the inward strengths That should defend him, sinckes beneath compassion Or pitty of a man; vvhere as this marchant, Acquainted only vvith a ciuill life, Arm'd in himselfe; intrench'd, and fortifide With his owne vertue, valewing life and death, At the same price, poorely does not inuite A fauour, but commands vs doe him right, Which vnto him, and her (we both once honour'd As a iust debt I gladly pay'm; they enter, Now sit wee equall hearers. I shall heare And see, sir, without passion, my wrongs arme me. A ioyfull preparation! To whose bountie Owe vvee our thankes for gracing thus our Himen? The notes though dreadfull to the eare, sound heere As our Epithalamium were sung By a Caelestiall quire, and a full Chorus Assurde vs future happinesse. These that leade me Gaze not with wanton eyes vpon my bride, Nor for their seruice are repayde by me With iealousies, or feares; nor doe they enuy My passage to those pleasures from which death Cannot deterre me. Great sir pardon me; Imagination of the ioyes I haste to, Made me forget my duty, but the forme And ceremony past, I will attend you, And with our constant resolution feast you, Not with course cates, forgot assoone as tasted, But such as shall, while you haue memory, Be pleasing to the palate. Bee not lost In what you purpose. Call you this a marriage? It differs little from hanging, I cry at it. See where my bride appeares! in what full luster? As if the Virgins that beare vp her trayne, Had long contended to receiue an honor Aboue their births, in doing her this seruice. Nor comes she fearefull to meete those delights, Which once past ore, immortall pleasures follow. I need not therefore comfort, or encourage Her forwarde steps, and I should offer wrong To her minds fortitude, should I but aske How she can brooke the rough high going Sea, Ouer whose foamie backe our shippe well rig'd With hope and strong assurance must transport vs. Nor will I tell her when we reach the Hauen (Which tempests shall not hinder) what loud vvelcom Shall entertaine vs; nor commend the place, To tell vvhose least perfection vvould strike dumbe The eloquence of all boasted in story, Though ioynd together. Tis enough my deerest; I dare not doubt you, as your humble shadow Leade vvhere you please, I follow. One suite sir, And vvillingly I cease to be a begger, And that you may vvith more security heare it, Know tis not life Ile aske, nor to deferre Our deaths, but a few minutes.