Peele, George · published 1593 · first performed or written 1591 [1590-1593] (Annals) history · Unknown unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
Gloster I warrant thee upon my life, My King vouchsafes his daughter for thy wife, Sweet Ned hath not forgot since he did woo, The gall of love and all that longs thereto. Why was your grace so coy to one so kind? Kind Gloster so methinks in deed, It seems he loves his wife no more than needs, That sends for us in all the speedy haste, Knowing his Queen to be so great with child, And make me leave my princely pleasant seats, To come into his ruder part of wales. His highness hath some secret reason why, He wisheth you to move from England's pleasant courts The Welshmen have of long time suitors been, That when the war of rebels sorts an end: None might be prince and ruler over them, But such a one as was their countryman, Which sure I think his grace hath granted them. So then it is king Edward's Policy, To have his son, for sooth son if it be, A Welshman, well welshman it liketh me, And here he comes. Nell, welcome into Wales, How fares my Elinor? Near worse, beshrew their hearts 'tis long on. heart's sweet Nell, shrew no hearts, Where such sweet saints do dwell Nay then I see I have my dream, I pray let go, You will not will you whether I will or no? You are disposed to move me. Say any thing but so: Once Nell thou gavest me this. I pray let go, ye are disposed I think. I madame very well Let go and be nought I say. What ails my Nell? Aye me, what sudden fits is this I prove; What grief, what pine lung pain, like youngmen's love, That makes me madding tun thus to and fro? What, melancholy Nell? My lord pray let me go. Give me sweetwater, why how hot it is? These be the fits, trouble men's wits. Joan ask thy beauteous Mistress how she doth. How fares your majesty? Joan aggrieved at the heart and angered worse, Because I came not right in, I think the King comes purposely to spite me, My finger itch till I have had my will, Proud Edward call in thy Elinor be still, It will not be, nor rest I anywhere: Till I have set it soundly on his ear. Is that the matter then let me alone. Fie how I fret with grief. Come hither Joan, knowest thou what ails my Queen? Not I my lord, she longs I think to give your grace a box on there. Nay wench if that be as we'll eare it well, What all a mort how doth my dainty Nell? Look up sweet love, unkind, not kiss me once? That may not be. My lord I think you do it for the nonce. Sweet heart one kiss. For God's sake let me go. Sweet heart a kiss.
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)
Gloster I warrant thee vppon my life, My King vouchsafs his daughter for thy wife, Sweet Ned hath not forgot since he did woo, The gal of loue and al that longs thereto. Why was your grace so coie to one so kinde? Kinde Gloster so me thinks in deede, It seemes he loues his wife no more then needs, That sends for vs in al the speedy hast, Knowing his Queene to be so great with childe, And make me leaue my princely pleasant seates, To come into his ruder part of wales. His highnes hath some secrete reason why, He wisheth you to moue frō Englands pleasant courts The VVelshmen haue of long time suters beene, That when the warre of rebels sorts an end: None might be prince and ruler ouer them, But such a one as was their countriman, VVhich sure I thinke his grace hath graunted them. So then it is king Edwards Pollicie, To haue his sonne, for sooth sonne i be, A VVelshman, well welshman it liketh me, And re he comes. Nell, welcome into VVales, How fares my Elinor? Neare worse, beshrow their harts tis long on. Harts sweet Nell, shrow no harts, VVhere such sweete saints doe dwell Nay then I see I haue my dreame, I pray let go, You will not will you whether I will or no? You are disposed to mooue me. Say any thing but so: Once Nell thou gaust me this. I pray let go, yee are disposed I thinke. I madame verie well Let go and be naught I say. VVhat ailes my Nell? Aie me, what sodaine fits is this I prooue; What griefe, what pine lung paine, like youngmens loue, That makes me madding tun thus too and fro? VVhat, mallencollie Nell? My lord pray let me go. Giue me sweetwater, why how whote it is? These be the fits, trouble mens wits. Ione aske thy beautious Mistres how she dooth. How fares your maiestie? Ione agreeu'd at the hart and angered worse, Because I came not right in, I thinke the King comes purposely to spite me, My finger itche till I haue had my will, Proud Edward call in thy Elinor be still, It will not be, nor rest I any where: Till I haue set it soundly on his eare. Is that the matter then let me alone. Fie how I fret with greefe. Come hither Ione, knowest thou what ailes my Queene? Not I my lord, shee longs I thinke to giue your gracea boxe on theare. Nay wench if that be as weele eare it wel, What all a mort how doth my dainty Nell? Looke vp sweete loue, vnkind, not kisse me once? That may not be. My lord I thinke you doe it for the nonce. Sweet heart one kisse. For Gods sake let me go. Sweet heart a kisse.