Peele, George · published 1593 · first performed or written 1591 [1590-1593] (Annals) history · Unknown T18 Rebels, barons and the king's wars at ho typicality 0.72 · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T18: king, lord, wallace, earl, edward, england, scotland, rebels, bruce, english.
The angry Heavens frowned on Britain's face To Eclipse the glory of fair Cambria, With for or aspects the dreadful Planets lower, Lluellen basely turn thy back and fly, No Welshmen fight it to the last and die. For if my men safely have got the Bride, Careless of chance, i'll reck no sour event, England's broad womb hath not that armed band, That can expel Lluellen from his land. Fly Lord of Cambria, fly Prince of Wales, Sweet brother fly the field is won and lost, Thou art beset with England's furious troops, And cursed Mortimor like a Lion leads, Our men have got the Bridge but all in vain: The English men are come upon our backs, Either flee or die for Edward hath the day: For me I have my rescue in my hand, England on me no torments shall inflict, Farewell Lluellen while we meet in Heaven. Follow pursue: lie there whate'er thou be, Yet soft my hearts let us his countenance see, This is the Prince I know him by his face, O gracious fortune that me happy made, To spoil the weed that chokes fair Cambria, Hale him from hence and in this busky wood, Bury his corpse, but for his head I vowed, I will present our governor with the same. Come my gentle Richard my true master servant that in some storms have stood my master, hang thee I pray thee lest I hang for thee, and down on thy marry bones like a foolish fellow, that have gone far astray and ask forgiveness of God and king Edward for playing the rachell and the Rebel here in Wales, ah gentle Richard many a hot breakfast have we been at together, & now since, like one of Mars his frozen knights I must hang up my weapon upon this tree and come per misericordiam to the mad Potter Mortimor, wring thy hands friar and sing a pitiful farewell to thy pikestaff at parting. Bind fast the Traitor and bring him away, that the law may justly pass upon him and receive the reward of monstrous treasons and villainy, stain to the name and honour of his noble country for you that slew Lluellen and presented us with his head, the King shall reward your fortune and chivalry. Sweet Lady abate not thy looks so heavenly to the earth, God and the King of England hath honour for thee in store, and Mortimor's heart at service and at thy commandment. Thanks gentle Lord, but alas who can blame Elinor to accuse her stars, that in one hour hath lost honour and contentment. And in one hour may your ladyship recover both if you vouchsafe so be advised by your friends, but what makes the Friar here upon his marrow bones? O Potter Potter the Friar doth sue, Now his old master is slain and gone to have anew. Ah sweet Lluellen how thy death I rue.
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)
The angry Heauens frownd on Brittains fac To Ecclipse the glorie of faire Cambria, VVith sor or aspectes the dreadful Planets lowre, Lluellen basely turne thy backe and flie, No Welshmen fight it to the last and die. For if my men safely haue got the Bride, Careles of chance, ile recke no sowre euent, Englands broad wombe hath not that armed band, That can expel Lluellen from his land. Flie Lord of Cambria, flie Prince of VVales, Sweete brother flie the field is wonne and lost, Thou art beset with Englands furious troupes, And cursed Mortimor like a Lion leades, Our men haue got the Bridg but al in vaine: The English men are come vppon our backes, Either flee or die for Edward hath the day: For me I haue my rescue in my hand, England on me no torments shal inflict, Farewell Lluellen while wee meete in Heauen. Follow pursue: lie there what ere thou be, Yet soft my hearts let vs his coutenance see, This is the Prince I know him by his face, O gracious fortune that me happie made, To spoile the weede that chokes faire Cambria, Hale him from hence and in this buskie wood, Bury his corps, but for his head I vowed, I will present our gouernour with the same. Come my gentle Richard my trew master seruant that in some stormes haue stood my maister, hang thee I praie thee least I hang for thee, and downe on thy mary bones like a foolish fellow, that haue gone farre astray and aske forgiuenes of God and king Edward for playing the rachell and the Rebel here in Wales, ah gentle Richard many a whot breakefast haue wee beene at together, & now since, like one of Mars his frozen knights I must hang vp my weapon vppon this tree and come per misericordiam to the madde Potter Mortimor, wring thy handes Frier and sing a pittiful farewell to thy pikestaffe at parting. Binde fast the Traitor and bring him awaie, that the law maie iustly passe vppon him and receaue the reward of monstruous treasons and villanye, staine to the name and honor of his noble countrey for you that slew Lluellen and presented vs with his heade, the King shall reward your fortune and chiualry. Sweet Ladie abate not thy lookes so heauenlie to the earth, God and the King of England hath honor for thee in store, and Mortimors heart at seruice and at thy commaundement. Thankes gentle Lord, but alas who can blame Elinor to accuse her starres, that in one howre hath loste honor and contentment. And in one howr may your Ladishippe reconer both if you vouchsafero be aduised by your friendes, but what makes the Frier here vpon his mary bones? O tter Potter the Frier doth sue, Now his maister is slaine and gone to haue anew. Ah sweet Lluellen how thy death I rue.