Selected quad for the lemma: duty_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A21144
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The raigne of King Edvvard the third as it hath bin sundrie times plaied about the citie of London.; Edward III (Drama)
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1596
(1596)
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STC 7501; ESTC S106297
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40,991
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76
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of her eies I le say that like a glas they catch the sunne And thence the hot reflection doth rebounde Against my brest and burnes my hart within Ah what a world of descant makes my soule Vpon this voluntarie ground of loue Come Lodwick hast thou turnd thy inke to golde If not write but in letters Capitall my mistres name And it wil guild thy paper read Lorde reade Fill thou the emptie hollowes of mine eares With the sweete hearing of thy poetrie Lo: I haue not to a period brought her praise King Her praise is as my loue both infinit Which apprehend such violent extremes That they disdaine an ending period Her bewtie hath no match but my affection Hers more then most myne most and more then more Hers more to praise then tell the sea by drops Nay more then drop the massie earth by sands And said by said print them in memorie Then wherefore talkest thou of a period To that which craues vnended admiration Read let vs heare Lo: More faire and chast then is the queen of shades King That loue hath two falts grosse and palpable Comparest thou her to the pale queene of night Who being set in darke seemes therefore light What is she when the sunne lifts vp his head But like a fading taper dym and dead My loue shall braue the ey of heauen at noon And being vnmaskt outshine the golden sun Lo: What is the other faulte my soueraigne Lord King Reade ore the line againe Lo: More faire and chast King I did not bid thee talke of chastitie To ransack so the treason of her minde For I had rather haue her chased then chast Out with the moone line I wil none of it And let me haue hir likened to the sun Say shee hath thrice more splendour then the sun That her perfections emulats the sunne That shee breeds sweets as plenteous as the sunne That shee doth thaw cold winter like the sunne That she doth cheere fresh sommer like the sunne That shee doth dazle gazers like the sunne And in this application to the sunne Bid her be free and generall as the sunne Who smiles vpon the basest weed that growes As louinglie as on the fragrant rose Le ts see what followes that same moonelight line Lo: More faire and chast then is the louer of shades More bould in constancie King In constancie then who Lo: Then Iudith was King O monstrous line put in the next a sword And I shall woo her to cut of my head Blot blot good Lodwicke let vs heare the next Lo: There 's all that yet is donne King I thancke thee then thou hast don litle ill But what is don is passing passing ill No let the Captaine talke of boystrous warr The prisoner of emured darke constraint The sick man best sets downe the pangs of death The man that starues the sweetnes of a feast The frozen soule the benefite of fire And euery griefe his happie opposite Loue cannot sound well but in louers toungs Giue me the pen and paper I will write Enter Countes But soft here comes the treasurer of my spirit Lodwick thou knowst not how to drawe a battell These wings these flankars and these squadrons Argue in thee defectiue discipline Thou shouldest haue placed this here this other here Co. Pardon my boldnes my thrice gracious Lords Let my intrusion here be cald my duetie That comes to see my soueraigne how he fares Kin: Go draw the same I tell thee in what forme Lor: I go Con Sorry I am to see my liege so sad What may thy subiect do to driue from thee Thy gloomy consort sullome melancholie King Ah Lady I am blunt and cannot strawe The flowers of solace in a ground of shame Since I came hither Countes I am wronged Cont Now God forbid that anie in my howse Should thinck my soueraigne wrong thrice gentle King King Acquant me with theyr cause of discontent How neere then shall I be to remedie Cont As nere my Liege as all my womans power Can pawne it selfe to buy thy remedy King Yf thou speakst true then haue I my redresse Ingage thy power to redeeme my Ioyes And I am ioyfull Countes els I die Coun: I will my Liege King Sweare Counties that thou wilt Coun: By heauen I will King Then take thy selfe a litel waie a side And tell thy self a King doth dote on thee Say that within thy power doth lie To make him happy and that thou hast sworne To giue him all the Ioy within thy power Do this and tell me when I shall be happie Coun: All this is done my thrice dread souereigne That power of loue that I haue power to giue Thou hast with all deuout obedience Inploy me how thou wilt in profe therof King Thou hearst me saye that I do dote on thee Coun: Yf on my beauty take yt if thou canst Though litle I do prise it ten tymes lesse If on my vertue take it if thou canst For vertues store by giuing doth augment Be it on what it will that I can giue And thou canst take awaie inherit it King It is thy beautie that I woulde enioy Count O were it painted I would wipe it of And disposse my selfe to giue it thee But souereigne it is souldered to my life Take one and both for like an humble shaddow Yt hauntes the sunshine of my summers life But thou maist leue it me to sport with all Count As easie may my intellectual soule Be lent awaie and yet my bodie liue As lend my bodie pallace to my soule Awaie from her and yet retaine my soule My bodie is her bower her Court her abey And shee an Angell pure deuine vnspotted If I should leaue her house my Lord to thee I kill my poore soule and my poore soule me King Didst thou not swere to giue me what I would Count I did my liege so what you would I could King I wish no more of thee then thou maist giue Nor beg I do not but I rather buie That is thy loue and for that loue of thine In rich exchaunge I tender to thee myne Count But that your lippes were sacred my Lord You would prophane the holie name of loue That loue you offer me you cannot giue For Caesar owes that tribut to his Queene That loue you beg of me I cannot giue For Sara owes that duetie to her Lord He that doth clip or counterfeit your stamp Shall die my Lord and will your sacred selfe Comit high treason against the King of heauen To stamp his Image in forbidden mettel For getting your alleageance and your othe In violating mariage secred law You breake a greater honor then your selfe To be a King is of a yonger house Then to be maried your progenitour Sole ragning Adam on the vniuerse By God was honored for a married man But not by him annointed for a king It is a pennalty to breake your statutes Though not enacted with your highnes hand How much more
to infringe the holy act Made by the mouth of God seald with his hand I know my souereigne in my husbands loue Who now doth loyall seruice in his warrs Doth but to try the wife of Salisbury Whither shee will heare a wantons tale or no Lest being therein giulty by my stay From that not from my leige I tourne awaie Exit King Whether is her bewtie by her words dyuine Or are her words sweet chaplaines to her bewtie Like as the wind doth beautifie a saile And as a saile becomes the vnseene winde So doe her words her bewties bewtie wordes O that I were a honie gathering bee To beare the combe of vertue from his flower And not a poison sucking enuious spider To turne the vice I take to deadlie venom Religion is austere and bewty gentle To stricke a gardion for so faire a weed O that shee were as is the aire to mee Why so she is for when I would embrace her This do I and catch nothing but my selfe I must enioy her for I cannot beate With reason and reproofe fond loue awaie Enter Warwicke Here comes her father I will worke with him To beare my collours in this feild of loue War: How is it that my souereigne is so sad May I with pardon know your highnes griefe And that my old endeuor will remoue it It shall not comber long your maiestie King A kind and voluntary gift thou proferest That I was forwarde to haue begd of thee But O thou world great nurse of flatterie Whie dost thou tip mens tongues with golden words And peise their deedes with weight of heauie leade That faire performance cannot follow promise O that a man might hold the hartes close booke And choke the lauish tongue when it doth vtter The breath of falshood not carectred there War: Far be it from the honor of my age That I should owe bright gould and render lead Age is a cyncke not a flatterer I saye againe that I if knew your griefe And that by me it may be lesned My proper harme should buy your highnes good These are the vulger tenders of false men That neuer pay the duetie of their words Kin: Thou wilt not sticke to sweare what thou hast said But when thou knowest my greifes condition This rash disgorged vomit of thy word Thou wilt eate vp againe and leaue me helples War By heauen I will not though your maiestie Did byd me run vpon your sworde and die Say that my greefe is no way medicinable But by the losse and bruising of thine honour War: Yf nothing but that losse may vantage you I would accomplish that losse my vauntage to King Thinkst that thou canst answere thy oth againe War: I cannot nor I would not if I could King But if thou dost what shal I say to thee War: What may be said to anie periurd villane That breake the sacred warrant of an oath King What wilt thou say to one that breaks an othe War That hee hath broke his faith with God and man And from them both standes excommunicat King What office were it to suggest a man To breake a lawfull and religious vowe War An office for the deuill not for man Ki. That destilles office must thou do for me Or breake thy oth or cancell all the bondes Of loue and duetie twixt thy self and mee And therefore Warwike if thou art thy selfe The Lord and master of thy word and othe Go to thy daughter and in my behalfe Comaund her woo her win her anie wares To be my mistres and my secret loue I will not stand to heare thee make reply Thy oth breake hers or let thy souereigne dye Exit King O doting King or detestable office Well may I tempt my self to wrong my self When he hath sworne me by the name of God To breake a vowe made by the name of God What if I sweare by this right hand of mine To cut this right hande of the better waie Were to prophaine the Idoll then confound it But neither will I do I le keepe myne oath And to my daughter make a recantation Of all the vertue I haue preacht to her I le say she must forget her husband Salisbury If she remember to embrace the king I le say an othe may easily be broken But not so easily pardoned being broken I le say it is true charitie to loue But not true loue to be so charitable I le say his greatnes may beare out the shame But not his kingdome can buy out the sinne I le say it is my duety to perswade But not her honestie to giue consent Enter Countesse See where she comes was neuer father had Against his child an embassage so bad Co: My Lord and father I haue sought for you My mother and the Peeres importune you To keepe in promise of his maiestie And do your best to make his highnes merrie War: How shall I enter in this gracelesse arrant I must not call her child for wheres the father That will in such a sute seduce his child Then wife of Salisbury shall I so begin No hee s my friend and where is found the friend That will doe friendship such indammagement Neither my daughter nor my deare friends wife I am not Warwike as thou thinkst I am But an atturnie from the Court of hell That thus haue housd my spirite in his forme To do a message to thee from the king The mighty king of England dotes on thee He that hath power to take away thy life Hath power to take thy honor then consent To pawne thine honor rather then thy life Honor is often lost and got againe But life once gon hath no recouerie The Sunne that withers heye doth nourish grasse The king that would distaine thee will aduance thee The Poets write that great Achilles speare Could heale the wound it made the morrall is What mighty men misdoo they can amend The Lyon doth become his bloody iawes And grace his forragement by being milde When vassell feare lies trembling at his feete The king will in his glory hide thy shame And those that gaze on him to finde out thee Will loose their eie-sight looking in the Sunne What can one drop of poyson harme the Sea Whose hugie vastures can digest the ill And make it loose his operation The kings great name will temper their misdeeds And giue the bitter portion of reproch A sugred sweet and most delitious tast Besides it is no harme to do the thing Which without shame could not be left vndone Thus haue I in his maiesties behalfe Apparraled sin in vertuous sentences And dwel vpon thy answere in his sute Cou: Vnnaturall beseege woe me vnhappie To haue escapt the danger of my foes And to be ten times worse iniuerd by friends Hath he no meanes to stayne my honest blood But to corrupt the author of my blood To be his scandalous and vile soliciter No maruell though the braunches be then infected When poyson hath