Massinger, Philip · published 1632 · first performed or written 1621 [1621-1622; prologue, 1629/30(?)] (Annals) tragicomedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T6 Money, debt and credit · 527 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T6: money, master, pound, law, lawyer, chain, gentleman, gold, pay, pray.
But not to us; We must waigh with our owne scale. This is he, are! How soon mine eye had found him! what a port He bears! how well his bravery becomes him! A prisoner! nay, a princely suitor rather! But I am too sudden. madam, 'twas his suit, Unsent for, to present his service to you, Ere his departure. With what Majesty He bears himself! The devil I think supplies him, Ransomed, and thus rich too! You ill deserve The favour of our hand; we are not well, Give us more air. What sudden qualm is this? That lifted yours against me. Thus once more, I sue for pardon Sure his lips are poisoned, And through those veins, force passage to my heart Which is already seized upon. I wait, Madam, To know what your commands are; my designs Exact me in another place. Before You have our licence to depart; if manners, Civility of manners cannot teach you T'attend our leisure, I must tell you, Sir, That you are still our prisoner, nor had you Commission to free him. How's this, Madam? You were my substitute, and wanted power Without my warrant to dispose of him. I will pay back his ransom ten times over, Rather than quit my interest. This is Against the law of arms. But not of love: Why, hath your entertainment, Sir, been such In your restraint, that with the wings of fear You would fly from it? I know no man, madam, Enamoured of his fetters, or delighting In cold or hunger, or that would in reason Prefer straw in a dungeon, before A down bed in a Palace. How, come nearer; Was his usage such? Yes, and it had been worse, Had I foreseen this. O thou mis-shaped monster! In thee it is confirmed, that such as have No share in nature's bounties, know no pity To such as have 'em Look on him with my eyes, And answer then, whether this were a man, Whose cheeks of lovely fullness should be made A prey to meager famine? or these eyes Whose every glance store Cupid's emptied quiver, To be dimmed with tedious watching? or these lips, These ruddy lips, of whose fresh colour, cherries And roses were but copies, should grow pale For want of Nectar? or these legs that bear A burden of more worth, then is supported By Atlas wearied shoulders, should be cramped With the weight of iron? O I could dwell ever On this description! Is this in derision Or pity of me? In your charity Believe me innocent. Now you are my prisoner You shall have fairer quarter, you will shame The place where you have been, should you now leave it Before you are recovered. I'll conduct you To more convenient lodgings, and it shall be My care to cherish you. Repine who dare; It is our will. You'll follow me? To the centre, Such a Sibylla guiding me. Who speaks first? We stand, as we had seen Medusa's head! I know not what to think, I am so amazed! Amazed! I am thunderstruck! we are enchanted, And this is some illusion.
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)
But not to us; We must waigh with our owne scale. This is he, are! How soone mine eye had found him! what a port He beares! how well his bravery becomes him! A prisoner! nay, a princly sutor rather! But I am too sudden. Madame, 'twas his suite, Vnsent for, to present his service to you, Ere his departure. With what Majesty He beares himselfe! The divell I thinke supplies him, Ransom'd, and thus rich too! You ill deserve The favour of our hand; we are no well, Give us more ayre. What sudden qualme is this? That lifted yours against mee. Thus once more, I sue for pardon Sure his lips are poyson'd, And through thse veines, force passage to my heart Which is already eaz'd upon. I wait, Madam, To know what your commands are; my designes Exact me in another place. Before You have our licence to depart; if manners, Civility of manners cannot teach you T'attend our leasure, I must tell you, Sir, That you are still our prisoner, or had you Commission to free him. How's this, Madam? You were my substitute, and wanted power Without my warrant to dispose of him. I will pay backe his ransome ten times over, Rather then quit my interest. This is Against the law of armes. But not of love: Why, hath your entertainment, Sir, beene such In your restraint, that with the wings of feare You would flie from it? I know no man, Madame, Enamour'd of his fetter, or delighting In cold or hunger, or that would in reason Preferre straw in a dngeon, before A downe bed in a Palace. How, come neerer; Was his usage such? Yes, and it had beene worse, Had I foreseene this. O thou mis-shp'd monster! In thee it is confirm'd, that such as have No share in naures bounties, know no pitty To such as have 'em Looke on him with my eyes, And answer then, whether this were a man, Whose heekes of lovely fulnesse should be made A prey to meagre famine? or these eyes Whose every glance store Cupids empti'd quiver, To be dimm'd with tedious watching? or these lips, These rudie lips, of whose fresh colour, cherries And roses were but coppies, should grow pale For want of Nectar? or these legges that beare A burthen of more worth, then is supported By Atla wearied shoulders, should be cramp'd With the weight of yron? O I could dwell ever On this description! Is this in diision Or pitty of me? In your charity Beleeve me innocent. Now you are my prisoner You shall have fairer quarter, you will shame The place where you have beene, should you now leave it Before you are recover'd. I'll conduct you To more convenient lodgings, and it shall be My care to cherish you. Repine who dare; It is our will. You'll follow mee? To the centre, Such a Sybilla guiding me. Who speakes first? We stand, as we had seen Medusas head! I know not what to thinke, I am so amaz'd! Amaz'd! I am thunderstrooke! Wee are inchaunted, And this is some illusion.