Greene, Robert · published 1630 · first performed or written 1589 [1586-1590] (Annals) comedy · Queen Elizabeth's Men T15 Friars and holy orders in plot typicality 0.81 · 498 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T15: friar, lord, holy, friars, robin, peggy, lacie, angelo, love, nun.
To whom speakest thou? To thee. Who art thou? Could you not judge when all your swords grew fast, That friar Bacon was not far from hence, Edward King Henry's son, and Prince of Wales, Thy fool disguised cannot conceal thyself, I know both Ermsby and the Sussex Earl, Else friar Bacon had but little skill. Thou comest in post from merry Fressingfield, Fast fancied to the keeper's bonny Lass, To crave some succour of the jolly friar, And Lacy Earl of Lincoln hast thou left, To treat fair Marg'ret to allow thy loves: But friends are men, and Love can baffle Lords. The Earl both woos and courts her for himself. Ned, this is strange, the friar knoweth all. Apollo could not utter more than this. I stand amazed to hear this jolly friar, Tell even the very secrets of my thoughts: But learned Bacon since thou knowest the cause, Why I did post so fast from Fressingfield, Help friar at a pinch, that I may have The love of lovely Marg'ret to myself, And as I am true Prince of Wales, I'll give Living and lands to strength thy College state. Good friar help the Prince in this. Why servant Ned, will not the friar do it? Were not my sword glued to my scabbard by conjuration, I would cut off his head and make him do it by force. In faith my Lord, your manhood and your sword is all alike, they are so fast conjured that we shall never see them. What Doctor in a dump? tush help the Prince, And thou shalt see how liberal he will prove, Crave not such actions, greater dumps than these, I will my Lord strain out my magic spells, For this day comes the Earl of Fressingfield; And fore that night shuts in the day with dark, They'll be betrothed each to other fast: But come with me, we'll to my study straight, And in a glass prospective I will show What's done this day in merry Fressingfield. Gramercies Bacon, I will 'quite thy pain. But send your train, my Lord, into the Town, My scholar shall go bring them to their Inn: meanwhile we'll see the knavery of the Earl. Warren, leave me and Ermsby, take the fool, Let him be master, and go revel it, Till I and friar Bacon talk a while. We will, my Lord. Faith Ned, and I'll Lord it out till thou comest, I'll be Prince of Wales over all the black pots in Oxford. Now frolic Edward, welcome to my Cell, Here tempers friar Bacon many toys: And holds this place his Consistory Court, Wherein the devils plead homage to his words, Within this glass prospective thou shalt see This day what's done in merry Fressingfield, Twixt lovely Peggie and the Lincoln Earl. friar, thou gladst me, now shall Edward try, How Lacy meaneth to his Sovereign Lord. Stand there and look directly in the glass. What sees my Lord?
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 470–528 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 10 of 33 in this edition
Length
498 words · 659 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T15 — Friars and holy orders in plotcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.809 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
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)
To whom ſpeakeſt thou? To thee. Who art thou? Could you not iudge when all your ſwords grew faſt, That Fryer Bacon was not farre from hence, Edward King Henries ſonne, and Prince of Wales, Thy foole diſguis'd cannot conceale thy ſelfe, I know both Ermsby and the Suſſex Earle, Elſe Fryer Bacon had but little skill. Thou comeſt in poaſt from merry Freſingfield, Faſt fancied to the Keepers bonny Laſſe, To craue ſome ſuccour of the iolly Fryer, And Lacy Earle of Lincolne haſt thou left, To treat faire Margret to allow thy loues: But friends are men, and Loue can baffle Lords. The Earle both wooes and courts her for himſelfe. Ned, this is ſtrange, the Fryer knoweth all. Apollo could not vtter more then this. I ſtand amazed to heare this iolly Fryer, Tell euen the very ſecrets of my thoughts: But learned Bacon ſince thou knoweſt the cauſe, Why I did poaſt ſo faſt from Freſingfield, Helpe Fryer at a pinch, that I may haue The loue of louely Margret to my ſelfe, And as I am true Prince of Wales, Ile giue Liuing and lands to ſtrength thy Colledge ſtate. Good Fryer helpe the Prince in this. Why ſeruant Ned, will not the Fryer doe it? Were not my ſword glued to my ſcabberd by coniuration, I would cut off his head and make him doe it by force. In faith my Lord, your manhood and your ſword is all alike, they are ſo faſt coniured that we ſhall neuer ſee them. What Doctor in a dumpe? tuſh helpe the Prince, And thou ſhalt ſee how liberall he will proue, Craue not ſuch actions, greater dumps then theſe, I will my Lord ſtraine out my magicke ſpels, For this day comes the Earle of Freſingfield; And fore that night ſhuts in the day with darke, They 'le be betrothed each to other faſt: But come with me, weele to my ſtudy ſtraight, And in a glaſſe proſpectiue I will ſhew What's done this day in merry Freſingfield. Gramercies Bacon, I will quite thy paine. But ſend your traine, my Lord, into the Towne, My ſcholler ſhall goe bring them to their Inne: Meane while weele ſee the knauery of the Earle. Warren, leaue me and Ermsby, take the foole, Let him be maſter, and goe reuell it, Till I and Fryer Bacon talke a while. We will, my Lord. Faith Ned, and Ile Lord it out till thou commeſt, Ile be Prince of Wales ouer all the blacke pots in Oxford. Now frolicke Edward, welcome to my Cell, Here tempers Fryer Bacon many toyes: And hold this place his Conſiſtory Court, Wherein the deuils pleade homage to his words, Within this glaſſe proſpectiue thou ſhalt ſee This day what's done in merry Freſingfield, Tvvixt louely Peggis and the Lincolne Earle. Fryer, thou gladſt me, now ſhall Edward trie, How Lacy meaneth to his Soueraigne Lord. Stand there and looke directly in the glaſſe. What ſees my Lord?