Selected quad for the lemma: son_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
son_n	husband_n	sister_n	wife_n	31,415	5	10.2119	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A34578	Horace, a French tragedy of Monsieur Corneille Englished by Charles Cotton, esq.; Horace. English	Corneille, Pierre, 1606-1684.; Cotton, Charles, 1630-1687.	1671 (1671)	Wing C6312; ESTC R19415	40,624	86

HORACE A French Tragedy OF Monsieur CORNEILLE ENGLISHED By CHARLES COTTON Esq LONDON Printed for Henry Brome at the Gun at the West-end of St. Pauls 1671. To my Dear Sister Mrs. Stanhope Hutchinson DEAR SISTER HAD I not when I first undertook this Poem promis'd my self a better success from the Attempt then I find upon a review of it now it is done it had never been design'd for you who deserve much better than the best endeavour of a more happy Translator than I pretend to be But if I had before too good an opinion of my self I do yet retain such a respect for you as would defend your name from so mean a Dedication as this did I not find my self oblig'd by a vain and imprudent promise to present you what I might have foreseen would at the best prove very unfit to kiss your hands who ever entertain your self with the best things and in that discover the best judgment to choose them However seeing I have made you a promise of this Play that I want the Art or the Patience to mend it and that you are only to suffer a private injury since it is never to be made publick let me beg of you to accept it with the same sweetness you usually entertain the applications of other your Friends and Servants who admire and love you by which acceptance besides the honour and obligation you will multiply upon me you will do a great justice to your self in being favourable to a man that if he could write equal to the best would lay his labours at your feet with the same humility and affection that he now subscribes himself Dear Sister Your most obedient and most humble Servant CHARLES COTTON Beresford Nov. 7. 1665. TO THE READER IT is evident enough without further Apology both by the Epistle before this Tragedy and by the Date that Dedication bears that neither at that time nor of several years after it was ever intended for the publick View and if it was a piece of discretion to conceal it then it had been a much greater to have supprest it now that the same Play is already extant from a far better hand I mean that of the incomparable Mrs. Philipps to whose vertuous memory I shall ever pay so great a respect that I should take him for a friendly Interpreter who would conceive I had publish'd this to no other end than to do her honour that is to make the excellency of her Poem more manifest by the imperfections of this of mine But in truth I am so far from doing it out of any kind of design that I am no more concern'd in this Impression than my consent comes to and that rather out of complacency to some who have great authority with me than out of any satisfaction in my own judgment that I ought in prudence to do it It was long since writ for the private divertisement of a fair young Lady and ever since it had the honour first to kiss her hands so entirely hers that I did not reserve so much as the Broüillon to my self so that her leave as principally necessary was first to be obtain'd neither was it without some difficulty that she was prevail'd upon to give her consent she being at the first proposal either out of modesty of which vertue no one has a more commendable share or out of tenderness to her own reputation or to mine not very willing to have it printed But at last I know not how she being overcome and I who had before parted with my Title having now nothing to do to oppose it it was condemn'd to the Press Upon these terms then you have it openly expos'd for every one to read or let alone like or dislike at his own pleasure or fancy neither shall I say more of it than this that I have seen some undertakings as ill perform'd and that if this were to do again I should think to do it much better only I think it fit to acquaint my Reader that the Songs and Chorus to the Acts are all wholly my own which whether the best or worst part of the Book he has free liberty to judge However the world will please to receive it I shall be as indifferent as any man in such a case can be neither shall I be angry with any one for telling me my faults provided he do it after such a manner as shall discover he has a desire I should mend them his reproof will otherwise degenerate into reproach and that is never even by the best natur'd people to be very kindly taken To conclude and to say something for the encouragement of the Readers such as sometimes use to throw away an hour upon a Play however this shall succeed in their opinion they can complain of no extraordinary loss of time and as to the rest the price of the Book will be so moderate as can arise to no great matter of repentance Beresford October 8. 1670. ERRATA PAge 11. line 23. for this read his p. 21. l. 14. for Love r. Iove p. 28. l. 7. for brake r. break l. 9. for feer r free l. p nult for contests r. contest p. 38. l. 4. for Triumph r. Triumphs p. 42. l. 12. for with the r. which the. p. 19. l. 10. for direct r. direst p. 51. l. 7. for these r. those l. 24. for this r thy p. 60. l. 15. r. before p. 63. l. ult for live in r. living p. 66. l. 28. for the Husband r. her Husband p. 67. l. 9. for try r. dry p 68. l. 16. for bash r. blush p. 69. l. 26. for quarrels r. quarrel p. 70. l. 18. for the bravest r. her bravest The ACTORS Names Tullius King of Rome Horace the Father an old Roman Knight Horace the Son Husband to Sabina Curiace a Gentleman of Alba Servant to Camilla Valerius a Roman Knight Pretender to Camilla Sabina an Alban Lady Wife to Horace the Son Camilla a Roman Lady Sister to Horace and in love with Curiace Julia a Roman Lady Confident to Sabina and Camilla Flavian an Alban Souldier Proculus a Roman Souldier Guards and Attendants The Scene Rome in a Parlour of Horatio's House HORACE Actus Primus Scena Prima Sabina Iulia. Sabina APprove my frailty and permit my care In such mishaps as these too just they are When threatning dangers do impend so near The truest Courage is allow'd to fear Nor can a spirit masculine and brave As noblest Hero's would pretend to have In such a torrent of calamities Practise its vertue without some surprize Though mine by these Alarms be shook those fears Oppress my heart prevail not with my tears But whilst my sorrows importune the skies My resolution governs in mine eyes When there we stop the souls afflictions then We more than women do if less than men To check our tears at such a time is proof In our weak Sex of Fortitude enough Iulia. It is and more than common souls can

pronounce me dead 'Gainst Kings results Offenders vainly plead And the most innocent the Sun can show When Kings conclude them criminal are so Nay 't is a crime t' excuse our selves to those Who by their title may our lives dispose And when they cut us off we must believe It is because we are unfit to live Pronounce my doom then Sir I will obey't The life that others love I ought to hate Nor do I think Valerius too severe He prosecutes his Mistriss murtherer I do with him against my self conspire He would my death and 't is my own desire With this distinction that I think by that To keep my honour in its present height Whereas he thinks thereby to blot that name I would perpetuate to live in Fame We rarely meet occasions Sir wherein A hearts whole stock of courage may be seen Valour acts more or less as time doth fit And as occasion serves or hinders it And manly or effeminate appears At the discretion of the censurers The common sort whose understandings be By ignorance limited to what they see Proportion force by its effects and guess At Valour as effects are more or less Expecting vainly that who wonders do Blest once by Fortune should do always so After an act illustriously bright All that seem less darken that actions light Men look we always should in every place Perform our actions with an equal grace Without considering in th' occasion What could have been or more or better done Nor seeing that in actions of less fame Th' occasion 's less the vertue still the same Great names by this injustice are defac'd Mens first Acts honours perish in their last And who once reaches a supream renown If he will hold it there must there sit down I shall not boast what honour I have got Your self great Sir saw my three Combats fought But 't will be hard ever again to find An opportunity of such a kind To crown my Valours worth with a success That must not after these exploits go less So that to give my Fame immortal breath I have no way but by immediate death I should have dy'd before nor liv'd so long I 've liv'd already to my Glory 's wrong A man like me perceives his name decays When but in danger of the least disgrace And my own hand e're this had clear'd the doubt But my blood 's yours and dare not 〈◊〉 out Without your leave Sir your allowance must Precede that action else it were unjust Rome wants no generous Warriors there are those When I am gone will fight her bravest foes As well as I have done and pluck fresh boughs Of greener Laurel to adorn her brows Then with an useless man great Sir dispence And if my acts deserve a recompence Let this be it that with this conqu'ring Arm Still with the vigour of late action warm I sacrifice my self to my own fame Without a mention of my Sisters name Scena Tertia Tullius Valerius Horace the Father Horace Sabina and Iulia. Sabina Oh hear her Sir in whose afflicted mind A Wifes and Sisters sorrows are combin'd Who desolate at your sacred feet in tears Laments her Race and for her Husband fears Not that I would by Artifice withdraw A guilty man from the offended Law Use him like one maugre his Victories But the brave Criminal in me chastise Let my unhappy blood his forfeit pay The Victim's still the same nor can you say Your justice is by pity overcome Whilst I his dearer part abide your doom His matchless love makes it appear he lives In his own person less than in his Wives And he if I be sacrific'd thereby A sadder death than in himself shall dye The death Ibeg and which I must obtain Will finishmine but aggravate his pain Behold Sir here th' excesses of my woe And the sad state my life 's reduc't unto How can I without horror e're embrace A man whose Sword has murther'd all my race And without wickedness a Husband hate For his brave Service to his Prince and State By death then Sir preserve me from the Crime Either of loving or not loving him In this extremity I shall embrace The heaviest sentence for the greatest grace I soon alas with this weak arm could do The thing for which I do so humbly sue But Death will be more welcome if thereby I may redeem my Husbands infamy If by my blood I may those Deities His severe vertue may have mov'd appease Atone Camilla's angry Ghost and save To Rome a man so fortunate and brave Horace the Father speaking to the King I that defence Sir then must undertake My Son and Daughter unconcern'd forsake They with Valerius side and are all three Combin'd together in conspiracy Against that little blood does yet remain From War and Ruine to restore my name Speaking to Sabina Thou who by fruitless sorrows which oppose The duty that a Wife the Husband owes Thy Husband would'st forsake and desperate Accompany thy Brothers in their Fate Go rather and consult their generous Ghosts 'T is true their lives by Horace hand they lost But 't was in Alba's quarrel that they dy'd And they in that are fully satisfi'd Since Heav'n destin'd Alba for a slave If there remain remembrance in the Grave They less repine at their mishap and wounds Being the glory unto us redounds Thy frantick sorrow they will all disclaim Thy sighs and tears will disapprove and blame And will condemn the horror thou putst on For such a Husband has so bravely done Sabina be their Sister try your tears And do your duty as they have done theirs Speaking to the King Valerius animates himself in vain Against this noble Hero to complain A sudden passion in the course of time Was never yet reputed for a Crime Rather than punishment it merits praise When vertue does that sudden passion raise To love even to Idolatry our foes And curse our Country for their overthrows These are call'd Crimes these the offences were He could not even in his Sister spare His love to Rome and her concerns alone Prompted his hand to execution Had not his Countries love tempted his spleen He at this instant innocent had been How strangely do I talk what was 't I meant To say he had been he is innocent Or Sir I had with my own hand e're this Punish'd the forfeit had he done amiss I should have made the sovereign pow'r known That Nature gives a Father o're his Son Sir I love honour nor can brook disgrace Much less a Crime unpunish'd in my Race pointing to Valerius Of which I only shall his witness need He can resolve you what my rage decreed When ign'rant yet of one half of the fight I thought Rome ruin'd in his shameful flight I wonder who bids him busie his cares About my private Family-affairs I wonder whence the priviledge he draws Without my leave to plead my Daughters cause Or by what right does he an int'rest claim Where I her