1 The Troublesome Reign of King John · chunk 20 of 27
Anonymous · published 1591 · first performed or written 1591 (Annals) history · Queen Elizabeth's Men T15 Friars and holy orders in plot typicality 0.81 · 475 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T15: friar, lord, holy, friars, robin, peggy, lacie, angelo, love, nun.
Have patience Madam, this is chance of war: He may be ransomed, we revenge his wrong. Beit ●er so soon, I shall not live so long. Despair not yet, come Constance, go with me, These clouds will fleet, the day will clear again. Now Lewes, thy fortune buds with happy spring, Our holy Father's prayers effecteth this. Arthur is safe, let Iohn alone with him, Thy title next is fairest to England's Crown: Now stir thy Father to begin with John, The Pope says I, and so is Albiox thine. Thanks my Lord Legate for your good conceit, 'tis best we follow now the game is fair. My Father wants to work him your good words. A few will serve to forward him in this, Those shall not want: but let's about it then. Come on you fat Franciscans, dally no longer, but show me where the Abbot's treasure lies, or die. Benedicamus Domini, was ever such an injury. Sweet S. Withold of thy lenity, defend us from extremity, And hear us for S. Charity, oppressed with austerity. In nomini Domini, make I my homily, Gentle Gentility griene not the Clergy. Grey gownd good face, conjure ye, nor trust me for a groat, If this waste girdle hang thee not that girdeth in thy coat. Now bald and barefoot Bungie birds when up the gallows climbing, Say Philip he had words enough to put you down with rhyming. A pardon, Oparce, Saint Frances for mercy, Shall shield thee from nightspells and dreaming of devils, If thou wilt forgive me, and never more grieve me, With fasting and praying, and Hail Marie saying. From black Purgatory a penance right sorry. Friar Thomas will warm you, It shall never harm you. Come leave off your rabble, Sirs hang up this lozel. For charity I beg his life, Saint Francis chiefest Friar, The best in all our Covent Sir, to keep a Wintersster. O strangle not the good old man, my hostess oldest guest, And I will bring you by and by unto the Prior's chest. I, sayst thou so, & if thou wilt the friar is at liberty, If not, as I am honest man, I'll hang you both for company. Come hither, this is the chest though simple to behold That wanteth not a thousand pound in silver and in gold. Myself will warrant full so much, I know the Abbot's store, I'll pawn my life there is no less to have what ere is more. I take thy word, the overplus unto thy share shall come, But if there want of full so much, thy neck shall pay the sum. Break up the coffer, Friar. Oh I am undun, fair Alice the Nun Hath took up her rest in the Abbot's chest, Sancte benedicite, pardon my simplicity. Fie Alice, confession will not salve this transgression.
seed 43: T19 · seed 44: T20 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Haue patience Madame, this is chaunce of warre: He may be ranſomde, we reuenge his wrong. Beit er ſo ſoone, I ſhall not liue ſo long. Deſpaire not yet, come Conſtance, goe with me, Theſe clowdes will fleet, the day will cleare againe. Now Lewes, thy fortune buds with happie ſpring, Our holy Fathers prayers effecteth this. Arthur is ſafe, let Iohn alone with him, Thy title next is fairſt to Englands Crowne: Now ſtirre thy Father to begin with John, The Pope ſayes I, and ſo is Albiox thine. Thankes my Lord Legate for your good conceipt, Tis beſt we follow now the game is faire. My Father wants to worke him your good words. A few will ſerue to forward him in this, Thoſe ſhal not want: but lets about it then. Come on you fat Franciſcans, dallie no longer, but ſhew me where the Abbots treaſure lyes, or die. Benedicamus Domini, was euer ſuch an iniurie. Sweete S. Withold of thy lenitie, defend vs from extremitie, And heare vs for S. Charitie, oppreſſed with auſteritie. In nomini Domini, make I my homilie, Gentle Gentilitie griene not the Cleargie. Grey gownd good face, coniure ye, nr truſt me for a groate, If this waſte girdle hang thee not that girdeth in thy coate. Now balde and barefoote Bungie birds when vp the gallowes climing, Say Philip he had words inough to put you downe with ryming. A pardon, Oparce, Saint Fraunces for mercie, Shall ſhield thee from nightſpells and dreaming of diuells, If thou wilt forgiue me, and neuer more grieue me, With faſting and praying, and Haile Marie ſaying. From black Purgatorie a penance right ſorie. Frier Thomas will warme you, It ſhall neuer harme you. Come leaue off your rabble, Sirs hang vp this lozell. For charitie I beg his life, Saint Frauncis chiefeſt Frier, The beſt in all our Couent Sir, to keepe a Wintersſter. O ſtrangle not the good olde man, my hoſteſſe oldeſt gueſt, And I will bring you by and by vnto the Priors cheſt. I, ſaiſt thou ſo, & if thou wilt the frier is at libertie, If not, as I am honeſt man, Ile hang you both for companie. Come hether, this is the cheſt though ſimple to behold That wanteth not a thouſand pound in ſiluer and in gold. Myſelfe will warrant full ſo much, I know the Abbots ſtore, Ile pawne my life there is no leſſe to haue what ere is more. I take thy word, the ouerplus vnto thy ſhare ſhall come, But if there want of full ſo much, thy neck ſhall pay the ſum. Breake vp the Cofer, Frier. Oh I am vndun, faire Alice the Nun Hath tooke vp her reſt in the Abbots cheſt, Sancte benedicite, pardon my ſimplicitie. Fie Alice, confeſſion will not ſalue this tranſgreſſion.