Peele, George · published 1593 · first performed or written 1591 [1590-1593] (Annals) history · Unknown unassigned nearest T13 Knights, squires and ladies · 447 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T13: knight, raph, lady, knights, george, master, squire, rafe, pray, god.
Madam I tell you England never bred, A better soldier than your Beadsman is, And that the soldan and his Army felt. Out of the duchy of rich Lancaster, To find soft bedding for their bruised bones, Duke Edmund gives three thousand pounds. Gramercies brother Edmund, Happy is England under Edward's reign, When men are had so highly in regard, That Nobles strive who shall remunerate, The soldiers resolution with regard. My Lord of Glocester what is your benevolence? A thousand marks and please your Majesty. And yours my lord of Sussex? Five hundred pound, and please your majesty. What say you sir David of Brecknock. To a soldier sir David cannot be too liberal, Yet that I may give no more than a poor knight is able And not presume as a mighty Earl, I give my Lord four hundred, four score, And nineteen pounds: And so my lord of Sussex I am behind you an ace. And yet sir David ye amble after apace. Well said dam thou couldst not be a Camber Britain If thou didst not love a soldier with thy heart, Let me see how is my Arithmetic will serve, To total the particulars. Why my lord I hope you mean, I shall be a benefactor to my fellow soldiers. And well said Nell. What wilt thou I set down for thee? Nay, my lord I am of age to set it down for myself. You will allow what I do, will you not? That I will Madam, Were it to the value of my kingdom. What is the sum my lord? 10000 pounds my Nell. Then Elinor bethink thee of a gift worthy the king of England's wife, and the king of Spain's daughter, and give such a largesse, that the Chronicles of this land may crake with record of thy liberality. There my lord, neither one, two, nor three, But a poor Cipher in Agrum, to enrich good fellows, And compound their figure in their kind. Madam I commend your composition, An argument of your honourable disposition: Sweet Nell thou shouldst not be thyself, Did not with thy mounting mind, Thy gift surmount the rest. Call you this Ridiculus mus? marry sir this mouse Would make a foul hole in a fair Cheese, 'tis but a Cipher in Agrum, And it hath made of 10000 pounds, 100000 pounds: A princely gift and worthy memory. My gracious Lord, as erst I was assigned, Lieutenant to his Majesty, Here render I up the crown left in charge with me, By your princely father king Henry, Who on his death bed still did call for you, And dying, wild to you the Diadem.
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)
Madam I tell you England neuer bred, A better souldier then your Beadsman is, And that the Souldan and his Armie felt. Out of the dutchie of riche Lancaster, To finde soft bedding for their bruzed bones, Duke Edmund giues three thousand pounds. Gramercies brother Edmund, Hppie is England vnder Edwards raigne, When men are had so highly in regarde, That Nobles striue who shall remunerate, The souldiers resolution with regarde. My Lord of Glocester what is your beneuolence? A thousand markes and please your Maiestie. And yours my lord of Sussex? Fiue hundred pound, and please your maiestie. What say you sir Dauid of Brecknock. To a souldier sir Dauid cannot be too liberall, Yet that I may giue no more then a poore knight is able And not presume as a mightie Earle, I giue my Lord foure hundred, foure score, And nineteene poundes: And so my lord of Sussex I am behind you an ace. And yet sir Dauid ye aumble after apace. Wel said Da. thou couldst not be a Camber Britain If thou didst not loue a souldier with thy hart, Let me see how is my Arithmeticke wilserue, To totall the parars. Why my lord I hope you meane, I shal be a benefactor to my fellow souldiers. And wel said Nell. What wilt thou I set downe for thee? Nay, my lord I am of age to set it down for my self. You will alowe what I do, will you not? That I will Maddam, Were it to the value of my kingdome. What is the summe my lord? 10000 pounds my Nell. Then Elinor bethinke thee of a gift worthie the king of Englandes wife, and the king of Spaines daughter, and giue such a largis, that the Chronicles of this land may crake with record of thy liberalitie. There my lord, neither one, two, nor three, But a poore Cipher in Agrum, to inrich good fellowes, And compound their figure in their kinde. Madam I commend your composition, An argument of your honourable disposition: Sweete Nell thou shouldst not be thy selfe, Did not with thy mounting minde, Thy gift surmount the rest. Cal you this Ridiculus mus? mary sir this mouse Would make a foule hole in a faire Cheese, Tis but a Cipher in Agrum, And it hath made of 10000 pounds, 100000 pounds: A princely gift and worthy memorie. My gratious Lord, as erst I was assignde, Lieutenant to his Maiestie, Hererender I vp the crowne left in charge with me, By your princely father king Menrie, Who on his death bed still did call for you, And dying, wild to you the Diadem.