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 0.79 · 516 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.
Well, Friar Bacon, you have spent your seven years' study well, that can make your Head speak but two words at once, Time was: yea marry, time was when my Master was a wise man, but that was before he began to make the Brazenhead. You shall lie while you arse ache, and your Head speak no better: well, I will watch and walk up and down, and be a Peripatetian and a Philosopher of Aristotle's stamp. What, a fresh noise? Take thy Pistols in hand, Miles. Time is passed. Master, master, up, hell's broken loose, your head speaks, and there's such a thunder and lightning, that I warrant, all Oxford is up in arms; out of your bed, take a brown bill in your hand, the latter day is come. Miles, I come. O passing warily watched; Bacon will make thee next himself in love. When spoke the Head? When spoke the Head? did not you say that he should tell strange principles of Philosophy? Why sir, it speaks but two words at a time. Why villain, hath it spoken oft? Oft, I marry hath it thrice: but in all those three times it hath uttered but seven words. As how? marry sir, the sirs time he said, Time is, as if Fabuis Commentator should have pronounced a sentence: he said, Time was: and the third time with thunder and lightning, as in great choler, he said, Time is passed. 'tis past indeed. A villaine, time is past: My life, my fame, my glory, all are past: Bacon, the turrets of thy hope are ruined down, Thy seven years' study lieth in the dust: Thy Brazenhead lies broken through a slave That watched, and would not when the Head did will. What said the Head first? even, Time is. Villain, if thou hadst called to Bacon then, If thou hadst watched and waked the sleepy friar, The Brazenhead had uttered Aphorisms, And England had been circled round with brass: But proud Astmeroth, ruler of the North, And Demogorgon, master of the Fates, Grudge that a mortal man should do so much. Hell trembled at my deep commanding spells, Fiends frowned to see a man their overmatch, Bacon might boast more than a man might boast: But now the braves of Bacon have an end, Europe's conceit of Bacon hath an end: His seven years' practice sorteth to ill end: And villain, sith my glory hath an end, I will appoint thee fatal to some end. Villain, avoid, get thee from Bacon's sight: Vagrant, go roam and range about the world, And perish as a vagabond on earth. Why then, sir, you forbid me your service. My service, villain? with a fatal curse, That direful plagues and mischief fall on thee. 'tis no matter, I am against you with the old proverb, The more the Fox is cursed, the better he fares. God be with you, sir, I'll take but a book in my hand, a wide sleeved gown on my back, and a crowned cap on my head, and see If I can want promotion.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1410–1450 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 26 of 33 in this edition
Length
516 words · 695 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T15 — Friars and holy orders in plotcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.790 (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)
Well, Frier Bacon, you haue ſpent your ſeuen yeeres ſtudy well, that can make your Head ſpeake but two words at once, Time was: yea mary, time was when my Maſter was a wiſe man, but that was before he began to make the Brazen-head. You ſhall lye while you arſe ake, and your Head ſpeake no better: well, I will watch and walke vp and downe, and be a Peripatetian and a Philoſopher of Ariſtotles ſtampe. What, a freſh noyſe? Take thy Piſtols in hand, Miles. Time is paſt. Maſter, maſter, vp, hell's broken looſe, your head ſpeakes, and there's ſuch a thunder and lightning, that I warrant, all Oxford is vp in armes; out of your bed, take a browne bill in your hand, the latter day is come. Miles, I come. O paſſing warily watcht; Bacon will make thee next himſelfe in loue. When ſpake the Head? When ſpake the Head? did not you ſay that he ſhould tell ſtrange principles of Philoſophy? Why ſir, it ſpeakes but two words at a time. Why villaine, hath it ſpoken oft? Oft, I mary hath it thrice: but in all thoſe three times it hath vttered but ſeuen words. As how? Mary ſir, the firſ time he ſaid, Time is, as if Fabuis Commentator ſhould haue pronounſt a ſentence: he ſaid, Time was: and the third time with thunder and lightning, as in great choler, he ſaid, Time is paſt. Tis paſt indeed. A villaine, time is paſt: My life, my fame, my glory, all are paſt: Bacon, the turrets of thy hope are ruin'd downe, Thy ſeuen yeeres ſtudy lieth in the duſt: Thy Brazen-head lies broken through a ſlaue That watcht, and would not when the Head did will. What ſaid the Head firſt? Euen, Time is. Villaine, if thou hadſt cald to Bacon then, If thou hadſt watcht and wakte the ſleepy Fryer, The Brazen-head had vttered Aphoriſmes, And England had beene circled round with braſſe: But proud Aſtmeroth, ruler of the North, And Demegorgon, maſter of the Fates, Grudge that a mortall man ſhould doe ſo much. Hell trembled at my deepe commanding ſpels, Fiends frownd to ſee a man their ouer-match, Bacon might boaſt more then a man might boaſt: But now the braues of Bacon haue an end, Europes conceit of Bacon hath an end: His ſeuen yeeres practice ſorteth to ill end: And villaine, ſith my glorie hath an end, I will appoint thee fatall to ſome end. Villaine, auoid, get thee from Bacons ſight: Vagrant, goe rome and range about the world, And periſh as a vagabond on earth. Why then, ſir, you forbid me your ſeruice. My ſeruice, villaine? with a fatall curſe, That dire full plagues and miſchiefe fall on thee. Tis no matter, I am againſt you with the old prouerb, The more the Foxe is curſt, the better he fares. God be with you, ſir, Ile take but a booke in my hand, a wide ſleeued gowne on my backe, and a crowned cap on my head, and ſee If I can want promotion.