Massinger, Philip · published 1632 · first performed or written 1631 [licensed for stage, Mar 11] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Blackfriars T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation typicality 0.80 · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
How's this? I know not What the play may prove, but I assure you that I do not like the prologue. O the miserable Condition of a Prince! who though he vary More shapes than Proteus in his mind, and manners, He cannot win an universal suffrage, From the many-headed monster, Multitude. Like Aesop's foolish Frogs they trample on him, As a senseless block, if his government be easy. And if he prove a Stork, they croak, and rail Against him as a tyrant. I'll put off That majesty, of which you think I have Nor use, nor feeling, and in arguing with you, Convince you with strong proofs of common reason, And not with absolute power, against which, wretches, You are not to dispute. Dare you that are My creatures, by my prodigal favours fashioned, Presuming on the nearness of your service, Set off with my familiar acceptance, Condemn my obsequiousness to the wise directions Of an incomparable Sister, whom all parts Of our world, that are made happy in knowledge Of her perfections, with wonder gaze on? And yet you that were only borne to eat The blessings of our mother earth, that are Distant but one degree from beasts (since slaves Can claim no larger privilege) that know No farther than your sensual appetites, Or wanton lust have taught you, undertake To give your sovereign laws to follow that Your ignorance marks out to him? How were we Abused in our opinion of his temper? we had forgot 'tis found in holy writ, That Kings hearts are inscrutable. I ne'er read it, My study lies not that way. By his looks The tempest still increases. Am I grown So stupid in your judgements, that you dare With such security offer violence To sacred majesty? will you not know The Lion is a Lion, though he show not His rending paws? or fill th'affrighted air With the thunder of his roarings? you blessed Saints, How am I trenched on? is that temperance So famous in your cited Alexander, Or Roman Scipio a crime in me? Cannot I be an Emperor, unless Your wives, and daughters bow to my proud lusts? And cause I ravish not their fairest buildings And fruitful vineyards, or what is dearest, From such as are my vassals, must you conclude I do not know the awful power, and strength Of my prerogative? am I close handed Because I scatter not among you that I must not call mine own. Know you court leeches, A Prince is never so magnificent, As when he's sparing to enrich a few With th'injuries of many; could your hopes So grossly flatter you, as to believe I was born and trained up as an Emperor, only In my indulgence to give sanctuary, In their unjust proceedings, to the rapine And avarice of my grooms? In the true mirror Of your perfections, at length we see Our own deformities.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T9 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
How's this? I know not What the play may proue, but I assure you that I doe not like the prologue. O the miserable Condition of a Prince! who though hee varie More shapes then Proteus in his minde, and manners, Hee cannot winne an vniuersall suffrage, From the many-headed monster, Multitude. Like AEsops folish Frogges they trample on him, As a senselesse blocke, if his gouernement bee easie. And if hee proue a Storke, they croke, and rayle Against him as a tyranne. Ile put off That maiestie, of which you thinke I haue Nor vse, nor feeling, and in arguing with you, Conuince you with strong proofes of common reason, And not with absolute power, against which, wretches, You are not to dispute. Dare you that are My creatures, by my prodigall fauours fashion'd, Presuming on the neerenesse of your seruice, Set off with my familiar acceptance, Condemne my obsequiousnesse to the wise direction Of an incomparable Sister, whom all parts Of our world, that are made happy in knowledge Of her perfection, with wonder gaze on? And yet you that were only borne to eate The blessing of our mother earth, that are Distant but one degree from beasts (since slaues Can claime no larger priuiledge) that know No farther then your sensuall appetites, Or wanton lust haue taught you, vndertake To giue your soueraigne lawes to follow that Your ignorance markes out to him? How were wee Abus'd in our opinion of his temper? Wee had forgot 'tis found in holy writ, That Kings hearts are inscrutable. I ne're reade it, My studie lies not that way. By his lookes The tempest still increases. Am I growne So stupid in your iudgments, that you dare With such security offer violence To sacred maiestie? will you not know The Lyon is a Lyon, though he show not His rending pawes? or fill th'affrighted ayre With the thunder of his rorings? you bless'd Saints, How am I trenched on? is that temperance So famou in your cited Alexander, Or Roman Scipio a crime in mee? Cannot I bee an Emperour, vnlesse Your wiues, and daughters bow to my proud lusts? And cause I rauish not their fairest buildings And fruitfull vineyards, or what is dearest, From such as are my vassalls, must you conclude I doe not know the awfull power, and strength Of my prerogatiue? am I close handed Because I scatter not among you that I must not call mine owne. Know you court leeches, A Prince is neuer so magnificent, As when hee's sparing to inrich a few With th'iniuries of many; could your hopes So grossely flatter you, as to beleeue I was born and traind vp as an Emperour, only In my indulgence to giue snctuarie, In their vniust proceedings, to the rapine And auaice of my groome? In the true mirror Of your perfections, at length wee see Our owne deformities.