Rowley, William · published 1633 · first performed or written 1619 [c.1619-1620(?)] (Annals) tragedy · Prince Charles's Men (first) · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T59 Spanish courts: war, honour and courtshi · 504 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T59: andrea, spain, portugal, tribute, horatio, king, bellimperia, prince, lord, lorenzo.
Rounded with danger, Where he behaves himself nobly Haldi Halldillinbaiday ay, Enaser, and five Alchaides more are gone Up to his rescue, and if not more he dies. Or is captived. We'll partake either or both with him, They are both noble, but too basely fly Is to preserve life, and let honour die. Fall then my flesh, so there survive my name, Who flies from honour, follows after shame. Antonio, now by the Saint of Spain You have made yourself remarkable today, Valour, exceeding valour, was not looked for Which you have shown today. So nobly Sir, that I could wish my daughter Were in love with you, and your virtues; would you Requite it, her dowry should be 50 thousand crowns, More than I ever meant it. O heart, thou speak'st too late. My Lords your praises, and your noble wishes Makes me esteem myself behind hand with fame Here's yet more work to do. One Muly we have ta'en, If Mumen fly not, he's his fellow-captive. There my new fortunes shall their honour prove, Then fare well war, next we'll war fair with love. Medina, post to king Roderiqus, do thus and thus, Tell our royal Master what work we have done him: You see and know, and it need no relation, Here are royal prisoners. How will you use us? As in captivity we wish ourselves. May we not be ransomed? As from the king We shall receive: as his pleasure returns us, Mean time you shall have cause to blame Your fortunes, not your conquerors, where's Antonio The best deserver of this day's honour. Retired to his tent. Not wounded, is her No my Lord, but weary. So we are all, Now we have time to rest, and get new breath, We conquer to the life, and not to death. Now Antonio, where's Margaretta now? Here. whose's that in your hand then? I know not, look, 'tis gone. Fie, you'll take it up again, come, come, sloop, This is Dionisia's character: a hand worth your heart, Peruse it better, so, so, 'tis well. Lady's fair hands must not be rejected so, I did foresee this dangerous relapse, You are in love. With Marg. With Di Nor do you shame it, rather cherish it. It is a choice befitting ing your high blood; What you have done, make it as a say Unto your best desires. O Lazarello! Thou giv'st me poison to recure a wound Already mortal. Why this is speedless haste, I know your sated pleasures would throw up Their overcloyed receipt, you have been noble In your brave deeds of arms; who shall boast it, Your beggar's issue? they are Antipathies, How would it sound to hear poor Margaret say Her Lord hath brought home honour from the wars: 'twould stain your worth to be so vainly boasted. No, this Lady would multiply your praises with her phrase, Lest Dionysia say that her Antonio Won the palm of victory, then y'are throned, And music gracing the solemnity.
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)
Rounded with danger, Where he behaves himselfe nobly Haldiay, Eser, and fiue Alchaides more are gone Vp to his rescue, and if not more he dies. Or is captiv'de. Wele partake either or both with him, They are both noble, but too sely fli Is to preserve life, and let honour die. Fall then my flesh, so there survive my name, Who flies from honour, followes after shame. Antonio, now by the Saint of Spaine You haue made your selfe remarkable to day, Valour, exceeding valour, was not lookt for Which you have showne to day. So nobly Sir, that I could wish my daughter Were in love with you, and your vertues; would you Requite it, her dowry should be 50 thousand crownes, More then I ever meant it. O heart, thou speak'st too late. My Lords your praises, and your noble wishes Makes me esteeme my selfe behinde hand with same Heres yet more worke to do. One Mully we have tane, If Mumen flie not, hees his fellow-captive. There my new fortunes shall their honour prove, Then fare well war, next wele war faire with love. Medina, post to king Roderiqus, do thus and thus, Tell our royall Master what worke we have done him: You see and know, and it neede no relation, Here are royall prisoners. How will you use us? As in captivity we wish our selves. May we not be ransomde? As from the king We shall receive: as his pleasure returnes us, Meane time you shall have cause to blame Your fortunes, not your conqours, where's The best deserver of this dayes honour. Retirde to his tent. Not wounded, is her No my Lord, but weary. So we are all, Now we have time to rest, and get new breath, We conquer to the life, and not to death. Now Antonio, where's Margaretta now? Here. Whose that in your hand then? I know not, looke, tis gone. Fie, youle take it up againe, come, come, slope, This is Dio characte: a hand worth your heart, Peruse it better, so, so, tis well. Ladies faire hands must not be rejected so, I did foresee this dangerous relapse, You are in love. With Marg. With Di Nor do you shame it, rather cherish it. It is a choise ing your high bloud; What you have done, make as a say Vnto your best desires. O Lazarello! Thou giv'st me poyson to recure a wound Already mortall. Why this is speedlesse haste, I know your sated pleasures would throw up Their over-cloyde receit, you have beene noble In your brave deeds of armes; who shall it, Your beggars issue? they are Antipathies, How would it sound to heare poore Margaret say Her Lord hath brought home honour from the warres: T'woud staine your worth to be so vainly boasted. No, this Lady would multiply your praises with her phrase, Lest Dionisa say that her Antonio Won the palme of victory, then y'are thronde, And musique gracing the solemnitie.