Field, Nathan / Massinger, Philip · published 1632 · first performed or written 1619 [1617-1619] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 468 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
The president were ill. And yet, my Lord, this much I know you'll grant; After those great defeatures, Which in their dreadful ruins buried quick, Courage and hope, in all men but himself, He forced the proud foe, in his height of conquest, To yield unto an honourable peace. And in it saved an hundred thousand lives, To end his own, that was sure proof against The scalding Summer's heat, and Winter's frost, Ill airs, the Cannon, and the enemy's sword, In a most loathsome prison. 'twas his fault to be so prodigal. He had from the state sufficient entertainment for the Army. sufficient? My Lord, you sit at home, And though your fees are boundless at the bar: Are thrifty in the charges of the war, But your wills be obeyed. To these I turn, To these soft-hearted men, that wisely know They are only good men, that pay what they owe And so they are. 'Tis the City Doctrine, We stand bound to maintain it. Be constant in it, And since you are as merciless in your natures, As base, and mercenary in your means By which you get your wealth, I will not urge The Court to take away one scruple from The right of their laws, or one good thought In you to mend your disposition with. I know there is no music to your ears So pleasing as the groans of men in prison, And that the tears of widows, and the cries Of famished Orphans, are the feasts that take you. That to be in your danger, with more care Should be avoided, then infectious air, The loathed embraces of diseased women, A flatterer's poison, or the loss of honour. Yet rather than my father's reverent dust Shall want a place in that fair monument, In which our noble Ancestors lie entombed, Before the Court I offer up myself A prisoner for it; load me with those irons That have worn out his life, in my best strength e run to th' incounter of cold hunger, And choose my dwelling where no Sun dares enter, So he may be released. What mean you sir? Only your fee against hers so much said Already in this cause, and said so well, That should I only offer to speak in it, I should not be heard, or laughed at for it. 'Tis the first money advocate ere gave back, Though he said nothing. Be advised, young Lord, And well considerate, you throw away Your liberty, and joys of life together: Your bounty is employed upon a subject That is not sensible of it, with which, wise man Never abused his goodness; the great virtues Of your dead father vindicate themselves, From these men's malice, and break ope the prison, Though it contain his body.
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)
The president were ill. And yet, my Lord, this much I know youll grant; After those great defeatures, Which in their dreadful ruins buried quick, Courage and hope, in all men but himselfe, He forst the proud foe, in his height of conquest, To yeeld vnto an honourable peace. And in it saued an hundred thousand liues, To end his owne, that was sure proofe against The scalding Summers heate, and Winters frost, Ill ayres, the Cannon, and the enemies sword, In a most loathsome prison. Twas his fault to be so prodigall. He had frō the state sufficient entertainment for the Army. Suficent? My Lord, you sit at home, And though your fees are boundlesse at the barre: Are thriftie i the charges of the warre, But your wills be obeyd. To these I turne, To thse soft-hearted men, that wisely know They are onely good men, that pay what they owe And so they are. 'Tis the City Doctrine, We stand bound to maintaine it. Be constant in it, And since you are as mercilesse in your natures, As base, and mercenary in your meanes By which you get your wealth, I will not vrge The Court to take away one scruple from The right of their lawes, or one good thought In you to mend your disposition with. I know there is no musique to your eares So pleasing as the groanes of men in prison, Ad that the teares of widows, and the cries Of famish'd Orphants, are the feasts that take you. That to be in your danger, with more care Should be uoyded, then infectious ayre, The loath'd embraces of diseased women, A flatterers poyson, or the losse of honour. Yet rather then my fathers reuerent dust Shall want a place in that faire monument, In which our noble Ancestors lye intomb'd, Before the Court I offer vp my selfe A prisoer for it; loade me with those yrons That haue worne out his life, in my best strength e run to th' incounter of cold hunger, And choose my dwelling where no Sun dares enter, So e may be releas'd. What meane you sir? Onely your fee againether's so much sayd Already in this cause, and sayd so well, That should I onely offer to speake in it, I should not bee heard, or laught at for it. 'Tis the fist mony aduocate ere gaue backe, Though hee sayd nothing. Be aduis'd, young Lord, And well coniderate, you throw away Your liberty, and ioyes of life together: Your bounty is imployd vpon a subiect That is not sensible of it, with which, wise man Neuer abus'd his goodnesse; the great vertues Of your dead father vindicate themselues, From these mens malice, and breake ope the prison, Though it containe his body.