Marmion, Shackerley · published 1632 · first performed or written 1631 [Dec] (Annals) comedy · Prince Charles's Men (second) · Salisbury Court unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
Sir I must be abrupt, but for my promise Unto some Noble friends that do expect me, I could not easily be drawn away From one in whom so many several graces Are so apparent, therefore I entreat you Not to impute it to my lack of judgement, Or neglect of your worth. By no means, Sir, Friendship is turned into an injury When it usurps authority, conceive me, o'er a friend's business, some other time Shall serve to give a mutual testimony Of love between us, and how much I honour you. When will you do this? I am practising. Prithee Quartilla, help me stave them off. Although they have no mercy on themselves Yet we must use some conscience. Gentlemen, You'll break your wits with stretching them, forbear I beseech you. My wit, it never fails me, I have it at a certainty: I'll set it To run so many hours, and when 'tis down, I can wind it up like a Watch. But I fear I have deceived the time too long. Ladies, I'll take my leave of your fair beauties: you have No service to enjoin? You'll take my brother Capritio with you. If he please, and his Tutor. My suffrage shall consent to any thing Her Lady ship approves. You must remember, You prove not refractory to your discipline, 'Twill be much for your improvement. I'll bring him Unto a Captain, shall set both our faces To look like the very Ianus of a Statesman, And so farewell. Come Sir. I told you, signior, What a rare man he was. In all my travels a ue not met the like; not any one Was so mellifluous in his discourse. I think when he was young, some swarm of Bees Did light upon his lips, as it was feigned Of Hesiod. Let's in, for I shall mourn, And be melancholy, till his return. ARdelio, we are now alone, come tell me Truly, how does the vulgar voice pass on me. Why Sir, the shallow currents of their brains Runs all into one stream, to make a deep, To bear the weighty burden of your fame. And 'tis all true they say. That you are most fair, A most exact, accomplished, gentile Lord, Not to be contradicted, 'tis a truth Above all truths, for where is any truth, That is agreed upon by all, but this? Such is the force of beauty, there is nothing Can please without it, and whoever has it, As there be few, is adjudged happy in it. All this is true. Then he that has a pure And sublimed beauty, 'tis a thing sensible, And cannot be denied, must be admired, And free from all detraction. This is true. He that excels in valour, wit, or honour, He that is rich, or virtuous, may be envied, But love is the reward of beauty; no object Surprises more the eye, all that delights us, We ascribe beauty to it.
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)
Sir I muſt be abrupt, but for my promiſe Vnto ſome Noble friends that doe expect me, I could not aſily be drawne away From oe in whom ſo many ſeuerall graces Are ſo apparent, therefore I intreat you Not to impute it to my lacke of iudgement, Or neglect of your worth. By no meanes, Sir, Friendſhip is turn'd into an iniury When it uſurps authority, conceiue me, O're a friends buſineſſe, ſome other time Shall ſerue to giue a mutuall teſtimonie Of love betweene us, and how much I honour you. When will you doe this? I am practiſing. Prethee Quartilla, helpe me ſtave them off. Although they haue no mercy on themſelues Yet we muſt uſe ſome conſcience. Gentlemen, You'l breake your wits with ſtretching them, forbeare I beſeech you. My wit, it never failes me, I haue it at a certainty: I'll ſet it To runne ſo many houres, and when 'tis downe, I can wind it up like a Watch. But I feare I have deceiu'd the time too long. Ladies, I'll take my leaue of your faire beauties: you haue No ſeruice to enjoyne? You'll take my brother Capritio with you. If he pleaſe, and his Tutor. My ſuffage ſhall conſent to any thing Her Lady ſhip approues. You muſt remember, You proue not refractory to your diſcipline, 'Twill be much for your improvement. I'll bring him Vnto a Captaine, ſhall ſet both our faces To looke like the very Ianus of a States-man, And ſo farewell. Come Sir. I told you, Signiour, What a rare man he was. In all my travels a ue not met the like; not any one Was ſo mellifluous in his diſcourſe. I thinke when he was young, ſome ſwarme of Bees Did light upon his lips, as it was fain'd Of Heſiod. Let's in, for I ſhall mourne, And be melancholy, till his returne. ARdelio, we are now alone, come tell me Truly, how does the vulgar voice paſſe on me. Why Sir, the ſhallow currents of their brains Runnes all into one ſtreame, to make a deepe, To beare the weighty burthen of your fame. And 'tis all true they ſay. That you are moſt faire, A moſt exact, accompliſht, gentile Lord, Not to be contradicted, 'tis a truth Aboue all truths, for where is any truth, That is agreed upon by all, but this? Such is the force of beauty, there is nothing Can pleaſe without it, and who euer has it, As there be few, is adjudg'd happy in it. All this is true. Then he that has a pure And ſublim'd beauty, 'tis a thing ſenſible, And cannot be denyed, muſt be admir'd, And free from all detraction. This is true. He that excels in valour, wit, or honour, He that is rich, or vertuous, may be envy'd, But love is the reward of beauty; no obiect Surpriſes more the eye, all that delights us, We aſcribe beauty to it.