Shirley, James · published 1632 · first performed or written 1632 [licensed for stage, Jan 10] (Annals) comedy · King's Revels Company (?); Prince Charles's Men (second) (?) · Salisbury Court T11 Siblings, kin and confidants typicality 0.89 · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
I do bear No great age in her knowledge. Perhaps she has imparted the contents. I could conjecture By circumstance she much desires to see you. Cannot come; that's all— I must have more. How Sir? 'tis a neglect becomes you not. You are not sent a Champion to defy me. I have no title from her blood, and yet Her virtue is so near me, I must tell you, She hath deserved your best esteem. She has told you belike some story. I pray see her, I'll wait upon you. To what purpose? To love and cherish her, that claims your heart, The office of your soul to honour her, Does not your conscience tremble yet? what reason Can you allege you should not love her? Reason? I'll show you a reason, walk a little further. I shall expect it. It must be so, and yet methinks I move Without a soul, she is the first apostate From love's religion, in that my honour Is safe, and it is justice, my Aurelia, This heart to thee, should now alone be sacred. Sir, you are welcome, what not speak to me? This is a strange neglect; I have news for you: Your friend— 'tis so, he has prevailed with her, And she will boast her change. He cannot be So fixed in meditation; with your favour. Reserve your news, I do not thirst to hear it. Sure he mistakes me all this while, 'tis I. But 'tis not I, I see you are a woman, I have nothing else to say. I have not used him so: was there no way to express his purpose, without this scorn? 'tis not discreetly done, I could be very angry he returns, With him Aurelia. I am ignorant With what words I should meet this noble love. I was created for this happiness, To these embraces which do more than twist Our bodies, every circle of thy arms Enchains my soul, that doth forget all freedom, And willingly submit to be thy prisoner. It do not grieve me that he loves my sister, I am too little to contain my joy, It flows above the narrow banks Aurelia: What shall I say let me bathe here eternally, And study new Arithmetic, to count Our blessings. Can you Sir be constant? ay, touch him there Aurelia. You do ill To interrupt our joys upon this lip That deserves all should open to commend it, I seal the contract of my heart for ever, I will be nothing when I am not thine: Suspect the stars may lose themselves in heaven, But never I this vow, thy sister has No part in my affection; she usurped Some title, but I now have canceled all The thoughts of her, and offer thee myself, myself thy perfect honourer. Wherein have I deserved to be thus slighted? Is there no conflict in my blood? Can love I bear a sister, take away all sense Of this indignity?
King's Revels Company (?); Prince Charles's Men (second) (?)
Theater
Salisbury Court;Indoor Professional
Genre (British Drama)
comedy
Play type
Professional;Boys Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 980 · TCP A12129 · DEEP 792
Edition role
Representative edition — used in the analysis
Position
nodes 1258–1326 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 20 of 39 in this edition
Length
499 words · 625 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T11 — Siblings, kin and confidantscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.887 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T15 · seed 44: T12 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I doe beare No great age in her knowledge. Perhaps she has imparted the contents. I could conjecture By circumstance shee much desires to see you. Cannot come; that's all— I must have more. How Sir? Tis a neglect becomes you not. You are not sent a Champion to defie me. I have no title from her blood, and yet Her vertue is so neere me, I must tell you, She hath deserv'd your best esteeme. She has told you belike some story. I pray see her, Ile waite upon you. To what purpose? To love and cherish her, that claimes your heart, The office of your soule to honour her, Does not your conscience tremble yet? what reason Can you alledge you should not love her? Reason? Ile shew you a reason, walk a little further. I shall expect it. It must be so, and yet me thinkes I move Without a soule, she is the first apostate From loves religion, in that my honour Is safe, and it is justice, my Aurelia, This heart to thee, should now alone be sacred. Sir, you are welcome, what not speake to me? This is a strange neglect; I have newes for you: Your friend— Tis so, he has prevaild with her, And she will boast her change. He cannot be So fixt in meditation; with your favour. Reserve your newes, I doe not thirst to heare it. Sure he mistakes me all this while, tis I. But tis not I, I see you are a woman, I have nothing else to say. I have not us'd him so: was there no way to expresse his purpose, without this scorne? tis not discreetly done, I could be very angry he returnes, With him Aurelia. I am ignorant With what words I should meet this noble love. I was created for this happinesse, To these embraces which doe more than twist Our bodies, every circle of thy armes Enchaines my soule, that doth forget all freedome, And willingly submit to be thy prisoner. It doe not grieve me that he loves my sister, I am too little to containe my joy, It flowes above the narrow banks Aurelia: What shall I say let me bath here eternally, And study new Arithmetick, to count Our blessings. Can you Sir be constant? I, touch him there Aurelia. You doe ill To interrupt our joyes upon this lip That deserves all should open to commend it, I seale the contract of my heart for ever, I wil be nothing when I am not thine: Suspect the starres may lose themselves in heaven, But never I this vow, thy sister has No part in my affection; she usurp'd Some title, but I now have canceld all The thoughts of her, and offer thee my selfe, My selfe thy perfect honourer. Wherein have I deserv'd to be thus slighted? Is there no conflict in my blood? Can love I beare a sister, take away all sense Of this indignity?