Greene, Robert · published 1594 · first performed or written 1591 (Annals) romance · Queen Elizabeth's Men (on tour); Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men (in London) · before the Court unassigned nearest T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so · 475 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
Let him be thought a dastard to his death. That will not sell the travels he hath passed, Dearer than for a woman's fooleries. What says the mighty Mandricard? I vow to hie me home to Mexico, To troop myself with such a crew of men, As shall so fill the downs of Africa Like to the plains of watery Thessalie, whenas an Eastern gale whistling aloft Had overspread the ground with Grasshoppers: Then see Marsillus if the Palatine Can keep his Love from falling to our lots, Or thou canst keep thy Country free from spoil. Why think you Lords with haughty menaces To dare me out within my Palace gates? Or hope you to make conquest by constraint Of that which never could be got by love? Pass from my Court, make haste out of my land Stay not within the bounds Marsillus holds; lest little brooking these unfitting braves, My choler overslip the law of Arms, And I inflict revenge on such abuse. I'll beard & brave thee in thy proper town, And here ensconce myself despite of thee, And hold thee play till Mandricard return. What says the mighty soldan of Egypt? That when Prince Menelaus with all his mates, Had ten years held their siege in Asia, Folding their wraths in cinders of fair Troy: Yet for their arms grew by conceit of love, Their Trophies was but conquest of a girl: Then trust me Lords I'll never manage arms, For women's loves that are so quickly lost. Tush my Lords why stand you upon terms Let us to our Sconce, and you my Lord to Mexico. I sirs, ensconce ye how you can, see what we dare, And thereon set your rest. Boast not too much Marsillus in thyself, Nor of contentment in Angelica; For Sacrepant must have Angelica, And with her Sacrepant must have the Crown: By hook or crook I must and will have both. Ah sweet Revenge incense their angry minds, Till all these Princes weltering in their bloods, The Crown do fall to County Sacrepant. Sweet are the thoughts that smother from conceit: For when I come and set me down to rest, My chair presents a throne of Majesty: And when I set my bonnet on my head, methinks I fit my forehead for a Crown: And when I take my truncheon in my fist, A Sceptre then comes tumbling in my thoughts. My dreams are Princely, all of Diadems, Honour: methinks the title is too base. Mighty, glorious and excellent: I these my glorious Genius sound within my mouth These please the care, and with a sweet applause, Makes me in terms coequal with the Gods. Then these Sacrepant, and none but these. And these or else make hazard of thy life. Let it suffice, I will conceal the rest. Sirrah. My Lord.
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)
Let him be thought a dastard to his death. That will not sell the trauells he hath past, Dearer than for a womans fooleries. What saies the mightie Mandricard? I vow to hie me home to Mexico, To troop my selfe with such a crew of men, As shall so fill the downes of Affrica Like to the plaines of watrie Thessalie, When as an Easternegale whistling aloft Had ouerspred the ground with Grashoppers: Then see Marsillus if the Palatine Can keep his Loue from falling to our lots, Or thou canst keep thy Countrey free from spoile. Why think you Lords with hautie menaces To dare me out within my Pallace gates? Or hope you to make conquest by constraint Of that which neuer could be got by loue? Passe from my Court, make hast out of my land Stay not within the bounds Marsillus holds; Least little brooking these vnfitting braues, My cholar ouer-slip the law of Armes, And I inflict reuenge on such abuse. Ile beard & braue thee in thy proper town, And here inskonce my selfe despite of thee, And hold thee play till Mandricard returne. What saies the mightie Souldan of Egypt? That when Prince Menelaus with all his mates, Had ten yeres held their siege in Asia, Folding their wrothes in cinders of faire Troy: Yet for their armes grew by conceit of love, Their Trophees was but conquest of a girle: Then trust me Lords Ile neuer manage armes, For womens loues that are so quickly lost. Tush my Lords why and you vpon termes Let vs to our Skonce, and you my Lord to Mexico. I sirs, inskonce ye how you can, see what we dare, And thereon set your rest. Boast not too much Marsillus in thy selfe, Nor of contentment in Angelica; For Sacrepant must haue Angelica, And with her Sacrepant must haue the Crowne: By hooke or crooke I must and will haue both. Ah sweet Reuenge incense their angrie mindes, Till all these Princes weltring in their blouds, The Crowne doo fall to Countie Sacrepant. Sweet are the thoughts that smother from conceit: For when I come and set me downe to rest, My chaire presents a throne of Maiestie: And when I set my bonnet on my head, Me thinkes I fit my forhead for a Crowne: And when I take my trunchion in my fist, A Scepter then comes tumbling in my thoughts. My dreames are Princely, all of Diademes, Honor: me thinkes the title is too base. Mightie, glorious and excellent: I these my glorious Genius sound within my mouth These please the care, and with a sweet applause, Makes me in tearmes coequall with the Gods. Then these Sacrepant, and none but these. And these or else make hazard of thy life. Let it suffice, I will conceale the rest. Sirra. My Lord.