The Noble Spanish Soldier (The Noble Soldier, or A Contract Broken Justly Revenged) · chunk 25 of 27
Dekker, Thomas · published 1634 · first performed or written 1622 (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
Lowd may it speak. The herbs and flowers to strew the wedding way, Be Cypress, Yew, cold Colliquintida. Henbane and Poppey, and that magical weed Which Hags at midnight watch to catch the seed. To these our execrations, and what mischief Hell can but hatch in a distracted brain, I le be the Executioner, though it look So horrid it can fright e'en murder back. Poison his whore today, for thou shalt wait On the king's Cup, and when heated with wine He calls to drink the Bride's health, Marry her alive to a gaping grave. At board? At board. When she being guarded round about with friends, Like a fair Island, hemmed with Rocks and Seas, What rescue shall I find? Mine arms: dost faint? Stood all the Pyrenaean hills that part Spain and our Country, on each others shoulders, Burning with Aetnean flame, yet thou shouldst on, As being my steel of resolution, First striking sparkles from my flinty breast: Wert thou to catch the horses of the Sun Fast by their bridles, and to turn back day, Wouldst thou not do't (base coward) to make way To the Italians second blisse (revenge.) Were my bones threatened to the wheel of torture I'll do't. A raven's voice, and it likes me well. The King expects your presence. So, so, we come To turn this Bride's day to a day of doom. For half Spain's weight in Ingots I'd not lose This little man today. Nor for so much Twice told, Sir, would I miss your kingly presence; Mine eyes have lost th'acquaintance of your face So long, and I so (little) late read o'er That Index of the royal book your mind, That scarce (without your Comment) can I tell When in those leaves you turn o'er smiles or frowns. 'Tis dimness of your sight, no fault i'th' letter: Medina, you shall find that free from Erratas: And for a proof, If I could breathe my heart in welcomes forth, This Hall should ring nought else; welcome Medina, Good marquess Daenia, Dons of Spain all welcome: My dearest love and Queen, be it your place To entertain the Bride, and do her grace. With all the love I can, whose fire is such, To give her heat, I cannot burn too much. Contracted Bride, and Bridegroom sit, Sweet flowers not plucked in season, lose their scent, So will our pleasures; Father Cardinal, methinks this morning new-begins our reign. Peace had her Sabbath ne'er till now in Spain. Where is our Noble Soldier Baltazar? So close in conference with that Signior? No. What think'st thou of this great day, Baltazar? Of this day? why as of a new play, if it ends well, all's well; all men are but Actors, now if you being the King, should be out of your part, or the Queen out of hers, or your Dons out of theirs, here's No will never be out of his.
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)
Lowd may it speake. The herbs and flowers to strew the wedding way, Be Cypresle, Eugh, cold Colliquintida. Henbane and Poppey, and that magicall wed Which Hags at midnight watch to catch the seed. To these our execrations, and what mischiefe Hell can but hatch in a distracted braine, I le be the Executioner, tho it looke So harrid it can fright e'ne murder backe. Poyson his whor e to day, for thou shalt wait On the Kings Cup, and when heated with wine He cals to drinke the Brides health, Marry her A liue to a gaping grave. At board? At board. When she being guarded round about with friends, Like a faire Iland, hem'd with Rockes and Seas, What rescue shall I find? Mine armes: dost faint? Stood all the Pyrenoean hills that part Spaine and our Country, on each others shoulders, Burning with Aetnean flame, yet thou shouldst on, As being my steele of resolution, First striking sparkles from my finty brest: Wert thou to catch the horses of the Sunne Fast by their bridles, and to turne backe day, Woodst thou not doo't (base coward) to make way To the Italians second blise (revenge.) Were my bones threatned to the wheele of torture I'le doo't. A Ravens voyce, and it likes me well. The King expects your presence. So, so, we come To turne this Brides day to a day of doome. For halfe Spaines weight in Ingots I'de not lose This little man to day. Nor for so much Twice told, Sir, would I misse your kingly presence; Mine eyes have lost th'acquaintance of your face So long, and I so (little) late read o're That Index of the royall booke your mind, That scarce (without your Comment) can I tell When in those leaves you turne o're smiles or frownes. 'Tis dimneste of your sight, no fault i'th letter: Medina, you shall find that free from Errata's: And for a proofe, If I could breath my heart in welcomes forth, This Hall should ring naught else; welcome Medina, Good Marquesse Dania, Dons of Spaine all welcome: My dearest love and Queene, be it your place To entertaine the Bride, and doe her grace. With all the love I can, whose fire is such, To give her heat, I cannot burue too much. Contracted Bride, and Bridegroome sit, Sweet flowres not pluck'd in season, lose their scent, So will our pleasures; Father Cardiall, Me thinkes this morning new-begins our reigne. Peace had her Sabbath ne're till now in Spaine. Where is our Noble Souldier Baltazar? So close in conference with that Signior? No. What thinkst thou of this great day, Baltazar? Of this day? why as of a new play, if it ends well, all's well; all men are but Actors, now if you being the King, should be out of your part, or the Queene out of hers, or your Dons out of theirs, here's No wil never be out of his▪