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 T10 England and France: war, embassy and pea typicality 0.74 · 461 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
Frenchman between half sleeping & awake Although the misty veil strained over Cynthia, Hinders my sight from nothing all thy crew: Yet for I know thee and thy straggling grooms Can in conceit build Castles in the Sky: But in your actions like the stammering Greek, Which breathes his courage bootless in the air. I wish thee well Orlando: get thee gone, Say that a sentinel did suffer thee: For if the Round or Court of Guard should hear Thou or thy men were braying at the walls, Charles wealth the wealth of all his Western mines, Found in the mountains of Transalpine France, Might not pay ransom to the King for thee. Brave sentinel if nature hath enchased, A sympathy of courage to thy tale, And like the champion of Andromache, Thou or thy master dare came out the gates, Maugre the watch, the round, or Court of guard, I will attend to abide the coward here. If not, but still the craven sleeps secure, Pitching his guard within a trench of stones; Tell him his walls shall serve him for no proof, But as the son of Saturn in his wrath Pashed all the mountains at Typheus' head, And topsy-turvy turned the bottom up, So shall the Castle of proud Rodamant: And so brave Lords of France, let's to the fight. The Fox is 'scaped, but here's his case: I missed him near, 'twas time for him to trudge. How now my Lord of Aquitaine? My Lord, the Court of guard is put unto the sword, And all the watch that thought themselves so sure; So that not one within the Castle breaths. Come then, let's post amain to find out Rodamant, And then in triumph march unto Marsillus. I marvel Medor what my father means To enter league with County Sacrepant? Madam, the king your father's wise enough, He knows the County (like to Cassius) Sits sadly dumping, aiming Caesar's death, Yet crying Ave to his Majesty. But madam mark a while, and you shall see, Your Father shake him off from secrecy. So much I guess, for when he willed I should Give entertainment to the doting Earl, His speech was ended with a frowning smile. madam, see where he comes; I'll be gone. How fares my fair Angelica? Well that my Lord so friendly is in league (As honour will him with Marsillus. Angelica shall I have a word or two with thee What pleaseth my Lord for to command. Then know my love, I cannot paint my grief Nor tell a tale of Venus and her son, Reporting such a Catalogue of toys. It fits not Sacrepant to be effeminate, Only give leave my fair Angelica, To say the County is in love with thee.
seed 43: T8 · seed 44: T8 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
French-man between halfe sleeping & awake Although the mystie vayle straind ouer Cynthia, Hinders my sight from nothing all thy crue: Yet for I know thee and thy stragling groomes Can in conceit build Castles in the Skie: But in your actions like the stammering Greeke, Which breathes his courage bootlesse in the aire. I wish thee well Orlando: get thee gone, Say that a Centynell did suffer thee: For if the Round or Court of Gard should heare Thou or thy men were braying at the walls, Charles welth the welth of all his Westerne mynes, Found in the mountaines of Transalpine France, Might not pay ransome to the King for thee. Braue Centynell if nature hath inchast, Asympathie of courage to thy tale, And like the champion of Andromache, Thou or thy master dare came out the gates, Maugre the watch, the round, or Court of gard, I will attend to abide the coward here. If not, but still the crauin sleepes secure, Pitching his gard within a trench of stones; Tell him his walls shall serue him for no proofe, But as the sonne of Saturne in his wrath Pasht all the mountaines at Typheus head, And topsie turuie turnd the bottome vp, So shall the Castle of proud Rodamant: And so braue Lords of France, lets to the fight. The Foxe is scapde, but heres his case: I mist him nere, twas time for him to trudge. How now my Lord of Aquitaine? My Lord, the Court of gard is put vnto the sword, And all the watch that thought themselues so sure; So that not one within the Castle breaths. Come then, lets post amaine to finde out Rodamant, And then in triumph march vnto Marsillus. I meruaile Medor what my To enter league with Countie Sacrepant? Madam, the king your fathers wise inough, He knowes the Countie (like to Cassius) Sits sadly dumping, ayming Caesars death, Yet crying Ave to his Maiestie. But Madame marke a while, and you shall see, Your Father shake him off from secrecie. So much I gesse, for when he wild I should Giue entertainment to the doating Earle, His speach was ended with a frowning smile. Madame, see where he comes; Ile be gone. How fares my faire Angelica? Well that my Lord so frendly is in league (As honor will him with Marsillus. Angelica shal I haue a word or two with thee What pleaseth my Lord for to command. Then know my loue, I cannot paint my grief Nor tell a tale of Venus and her sonne, Reporting such a Catalogue of toyes. It fits not Sacrepant to be effeminate, Onely guie leaue my faire Angelica, To say the Countie is in loue with thee.