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Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
kingdom_n	king_n	know_v	word_n	1,874	5	3.7805	3	false

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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A39810	The tragedy of Thierry, King of France, and his brother Theodoret as it was diverse times acted at the Blacke-Friers by the Kings Maiesties servants / written by John Fletcher, gent.	Fletcher, John, 1579-1625.; Massinger, Philip, 1583-1640.; Beaumont, Francis, 1584-1616.	1648 (1648)	Wing F1352; ESTC R30457	40,910	42

mischiefes on him that thy self Or women worse than thou art have invented And kill him drunke or doubtfull Enter Bawdber Protaldie Lecure. Bawd Such a sweat I never was in yet clipt of my minstrels My toyes to prick up wenches withall uphold me It runnes like snowballs through me Brun. Now my varlets My slaves my running thoughts my executions Baw. Lord how shee lookes Brun. Hell take yee all Baw. We shall be gelt Brun. Your Mistresse Your old and honord Mistresse you tyr'd curtals Suffers for your base sinnes I must bee cloyster'd Mew'd up to make mee vertuous who can helpe this Now you stand still like Statues Come Protaldye One kisse before I perish kisse me strongly Another and a third Lecure. I feare not gelding As long as shee holds this way Brun. The young courser That unlickt lumpe of mine will winne thy Mistris Must I bee chast Protaldye Fro. Thus and thus Lady Brun. It shall bee so let him seeke fooles for Vestalls Here is my Cloyster Lecure. But what safety Madam Find you in staying here Brun. Thou hast hit my meaning I will to Thierry sonne of my blessings And there complnine mee tell my tale so subtilly That the cold stones shall sweat and Statues mourne And thou shalt weepe Protaldye in my witnesse And there forsweare Bawd Yes any thing but gelding I am not yet in quiet Noble Lady Let it bee done to night for without doubt To morrow we are capons Brun. Sleepe shall not seize me Nor any food befriend me but thy kisses E're I forsake this desart I live honest He may as well bid dead men walke I humbled Or bent below my power let night-dogs teare me And goblins ride me in my sleep to jelly Ere I forsake my spheare Lecure. This place you will Brun. What 's that to you or any Yee dosse you powder'd pigsbones rubarbe glister Must you know my designes a colledge on you The proverbe makes but fools Prota. But Noble Lady Brun. You a sawcie asse too off I will not If you but anger me tell a sow-gelder Have cut you all like colts hold mee and kisse me For I am too much troubled make up my treasure And get me horses private come about it Exeunt Act. 1. Scoe. 2. Enter Theodoret Martell c. Theod. Though I assure my self Martell your counsell Had no end but allegeance and my honour Yet I am jealous I have pass'd the bounds Of a sons duty for suppose her worse Then you report not by bare circumstance But evident proofe confirm'd ha's given her out Yet since all weaknesses in a kingdome are No more to be severely punished than The faults of Kings are by the Thunderer As oft as they offend to be reveng'd If not for piety yet for policie Since some are of necessitie to be spar'd I might and now I wish I had not look'd With such strict eyes into her follies Mart. Sir a duty well discharg'd is never follow'd By sad repentance nor did your Highnesse ever Make payment of the debt you ow'd her better Than in your late reproofes not of her but Those crimes that made her worthy of reproofe The most remarkeable point in which Kings differ From private men is that they not alone Stand bound to be in themselves innocent But that all such as are allyde to them In neernesse or dependance by their care Should be free from suspition of all crime And you have reap'd a double benefit From this last great act first in the restraint Of her lost pleasures you remove th' example From others of the like licentiousnesse Then when 't is known that your severitie Extended to your mother who dares hope for The least indulgence or connivence in The easiest slips that may prove dangerous To you or to the Kingdome Theod. I must grant Your reasons good Martell if as she is My mother she had been my subject or That only here she could make challenge to A place of being but I know her temper And feare if such a word become a King That in discovering her I have let loose A Tygres whose rage being shut up in darknesse Was grievous onely to her selfe which brought Into the view of light her cruelty Provok'd by her owne shame will turne on him That foolishly presum'd to let her see The loath'd shape of her owne deformitie Mart. Beasts of that nature when rebellilious threats Begin to appeare only in their eyes Or any motion that may give suspition Of the least violence should be chaind up Their fangs and teeth and all their meanes of hurt Par'd off and knockt out and so made unable To do ill they would soon begin to loath it I 'le apply nothing but had your Grace done Or would doe yet what your lesse forward zeale In words did onely threaten far lesse danger Would grow from acting it on her then may Perhaps have being from her apprehension Of what may once bee practis'd for beleeve it Who confident of his own power presumes To spend threats on an enemy that hath meanes To shun the worst they can effect gives armor To keepe off his owne strength nay more disarmes Himselfe and lyes unguarded ' gainst all harmes Or doubt or malice may produce Theod. 'T is true And such a desperate cure I would have us'd If the intemperate patient had not been So neer me as a mother but to her And from me gentle unguents only were To be appli'd and as physicians When they are sick of feavers eate themselves Such viands as by their directions are Forbid to others though alike diseas'd So shee considering what shee is may challenge Those cordialls to restore her by her birth And priviledge which at no suit must be Granted to others Mart. May your pious care Effect but what it aimd at I am silent Enter Devitty Theod. What laught you at Sir Vitry I have some occasion I should not else and the same cause perhaps That makes me do so may beget in you A contrary effect Theod. Why what 's the matter Vitry I see and joy to see that sometimes poore men And most of them are good stand more indebted For meanes to breathe to such as are held vitious Than those that weare like Hypocrites on their foreheads Th' ambitious titles of just men and vertuous Mart. Speake to the purpose Vitry Who would e'rehave thought The good old Queene your Highnesse reverend mother Into whose house which was an Academ In which all principles of lust were practis'd No souldier might presume to set his foot At whose most blessed intercession All offices in the state were charitably Confer'd on Panders o're-worne chamber wrestlers And such physicians as knew how to kill With safety under the pretence of saving And such like children of a monstrous peace That she I y should at the length provid That men of warre and honest younger brothers That would not owe their feeding to their cod-peece Should be esteem'd of more than mothers or drones Or idle

Priests doubt whether purer Mart. Sir y' are lost Thier. I prethee let me be so Mart. The day weares And those that have beene offering early prayers Are now retiring homeward Thier. Stand and marke then Mart. Is it the first must suffer Thier. The first woman Mart. What hand shall doe it Sir Thier. This hand Martell For who lesse dare presume to give the gods An incense of this offering Mart. Would I were she For such away to die and such a blessing Can never crowne my parting Enter 2 men passing over Thier. What are those Mart. Men men Sir men Thier. The plagues of men light on vm They crosse my hopes like hares who 's that Enter a Priest Mart. A Priest Sir Thierry Would he were gelt Mart. May not these rascalls serve Sir Well hang'd and quarter'd Thierry No. Mart. Here comes a woman Enter Ordella vail'd Thier. Stand and behold her then Mart. I thinke a faire one Thier. Move not whilst I prepare her may her peace Like his whose innocence the gods are pleas'd with And offering at their altars gives his soule Far purer then those fires pull heaven upon her You holy powers no humane spot dwell in her No love of any thing but you and goodnesse Tie her to earth feare be a stranger to her And all weake bloods affections but thy hope Let her bequeath to women heare me heaven Give her a spirit masculine and noble Fit for your selves to aske and mee to offer O let her meete my blow doate on her death And as a wanton vine bowes to the pruner That by his cutting off more may encrease So let her fall to raise me fruit hale woman The happiest and the best if thy dull will Do not abuse thy fortune France ere found yet Ordella She is more then dull Sir lesse and worse then woman That may inherit such an infinite As you propound a greatnesse so neare goodnesse And brings a will to rob her Thier. Tell me this then Was there ere woman yet or may be found That for faire same unspotted memory For vertues sake and onely for it selfe sake Has or dare make a story Ordella Many dead Sir Living I thinke as many Thier. Say the kingdome May from a womans will receive a blessing The king and kingdome not a private safety A generall blessing Lady Ordella A generall curse Light on her heart denyes it Thier. Full of honor And such examples as the former ages Were but dim shadowes of and empty figures Ordella You strangely stir me Sir and were my weakenesse In any other flesh but modest womans You should not aske more questions may I do it Thier. You may and which is more you must Ordella I joy in 't A bove a moderate gladnesse Sir you promise It shall be honest Thier. As ever time discover'd Ordella Let it be what it may then what it dare I have a minde will hazard it Thier. But harke yee What may that woman merit makes this blessing Ordella Onely her duty Sir Thier. 'T is terrible Ordella 'T is so much the more noble Thier. 'T is full of fearefull shaddowes Ordella So is sleepe Sir Or any thing that 's meerely ours and mortall We were begotten gods else but those feares Feeling but once the fiers of nobler thoughts Fly like the shapes of clouds we forme to nothing Thier. Suppose it death Ordella I do Thier. And endlesse parting With all we can call ours with all our sweetnesse With youth strength pleasure people time nay reason For in the silent grave no conversation No joyfull tread of friends no voyce of lovers No carefull fathers councell nothing's hard Nor nothing is but all oblivion Dust and an endlesse darknesse and dare you woman Desire this place Ordella 'T is of all sleepes the sweetest Children begin it to us strong men seeke it And kings from heigth of all their painted glories Fall like spent exhaltations to this center And those are fooles that feare it or imagine A few unhandsome pleasures or lifes profits Can recompence this place and mad that staies it Till age blow out their lights or rotten humors Bring them despers'd to the earth Thier. Then you can suffer Ordella As willingly as say it Thier. Martell a wonder Here is a woman that dares die yet tel me Are you a wife Ordella I am Sir Thier. And have children She sighes and weepes Ordella O none Sir Thier. Dare you venter For a poore barren praise you ne're shall heare To part with these sweet hopes Ordella With all but Heaven And yet die full of children he that reads me When I am ashes is my son in wishes And those chaste dames that keepe my memory Singing my yearely requiems are my daughters Thier. Then there is nothing wanting but my knowledge And what I must doe Lady Ordella You are the King Sir And what you doe I 'le suffer and that blessing That you desire the Gods showre on the Kingdome Thier. Thus much before I strike then for I must kill you The Gods have will'd it so they 'r made the blessing Must make France young againe and mee a man Keepe up your strength still nobly Ordella Feare me not Thier. And meet death like a measure Ordella I am stedfast Thier. Thou shalt bee sainted woman and thy tombe Cut out in Cristall pure and good as thou art And on it shall be graven every age Succeeding Peeres of France that rise by thy fall Tell thou liest there like old and fruitfull nature Darest thou behold thy happinesse Ordella I dare Sir Thier. Ha Pulls off her vaile let ts fall his sword Mar. O Sir you must not doe it Thier. No I dare not There is an Angell keepes that paradice A fiery Angell friend O vertue vertue Ever and endlesse vertue Ordella Strike Sir strike And if in my poore death faire France may merit Give me a thousand blowes be killing mee A thousand dayes Thier. First let the earrh be barren And man no more remembred rise Ordella The neerest to thy maker and the purest That ever dull flesh shewed us O my heart-strings Exit Mart. I see you full of wonder therefore noblest And truest amongst women I will tell you The end of this strange accident Ordella Amazement Has so much wove upon my heart that truly I feele my selfe unfit to heare O Sir My Lord has slighted me Mart. O no sweet Lady Ordella Rob'd me of such a glory by his pitie And most unprovident respect Mart. Deare Lady It was not meant to you Ordella Else where the day is And houres distinguish time time runnes to ages And ages end the world I had been spoken Devi I 'le tell you what it was if but your patience Will give me hearing Ordella If I have transgrest Forgive me Sir Mart. Your noble Lord was counsell'd Grieving the barrennesse betweene you both And all the Kingdome with him to seeke out A man that knew the secrets of the Gods Hee went found such a