Marlowe, Christopher · published 1596 · first performed or written 1593 [Jan 26; Jan 30] (Annals) tragedy · Derby's (Strange's) Men unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 510 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
My sweet Ioyeux, I make thee General, Of all my army now in readiness: To march against the rebellious King Navarre. At thy request I am content thou go, Although my love to thee can hardly suffer, Regarding still the danger of thy life. Thanks to your Majesty, and so I take my leave. Farewell to my Lord of Guise and Epernoune, Health and hearty farewell to my Lord Ioyeux. So kindly cousin of Guise you and your wife do both salute our lovely Minions. Remember you the letter gentle sir, which your wife writ to my dear Minion, and her chosen friend? How now my Lord, faith this is more than need, Am I thus to be jested at and scorned? 'tis more than kingly or imperious. And sure if all the proudest Kings in Christendom, should bear me such derision: They should know how I scorned them and their mocks. I love your Minions, dote on them yourself, I know none else but holds them in disgrace: And here by all the Saints in heaven I swear, That villain for whom I bear this deep disgrace: Even for your words that have incensed me so, Shall buy that strumpet's favour with his blood. Whether he have dishonoured me or no. Par la mor du, Il mera. Believe me this jest bites soar. My Lord, 'twere good to make them friends For his oaths are seldom spent in vain. How now Mugeroun, metst thou not the Guise at the door? Not I my Lord, what if I had? Marry if thou hadst, thou mightst have had the stab, For he hath solemnly sworn thy death. I may be stabbed, and live till he be dead, But wherefore bears he me such deadly hate? Because his wife bears thee such kindly love. If that be all, the next time that I meet her, I'll make her shake off love with her heels. But which way is he gone, I'll go make a walk on purpose from the Court to meet with him. I like not this, come Epernoune let's go seek the Duke and make them friends. The Duke is slain and all his power dispersed, And we are graced with wreaths of victory: Thus God we see doth ever guide the right, To make his glory great upon the earth. The terror of this happy victory, I hope will make the King surcease his hate: And either never manage army more, Or else employ them in some better cause. How many noble men have lost their lives, In prosecution of these cruel arms, Is ruth and almost death to call to mind: But God we know will always put them down, That lift themselves against the perfect truth, Which I'll maintain so long as life doth last, And with the Q. of England join my force: To beat the papal monarch from our lands, And keep those relics from our countries coasts. Come my Lords now that this storm is overpast, Let us away with triumph to our tents.
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)
My sweet Ioyeux, I make thee Generall, Of all my army now in readines: To march against the rebellious King Nauarre. At thy request I am content thou goe, Although my loue to thee can hardly suffer, Regarding still the danger of thy life. Thanks to your Maiestie, and so I take my leaue. Farwell to my Lord of Guise and Epernoune, Health and harty farwell to my Lord Ioyeux. So kindely Cosin of Guise you and your wife doe both salute our louely Minions. Remember you the letter gentle sir, which your wife writ to my deare Minion, and her chosen freend? How now my Lord, faith this is more then need, Am I thus to be iested at and scornde? Tis more then kingly or Emperious. And sure if all the proudest Kings in Christendome, should beare me such derision: They should know how I scornde them and their mockes. I loue your Minions, dote on them your selfe, I know none els but holdes them in disgrace: And heer by all the Saints in heauen I sweare, That villain for whom I beare this deep disgrace: Euen for your words that haue incenst me so, Shall buy that strumpets fauour with his blood. Whether he haue dishonoured me or no. Par la mor du, Il mera. Beleeue me this iest bites sore. My Lord, twere good to make them frends For his othes are seldome spent in vaine. How now Mugeroun, metst thou not the Guise at the doore? Not I my Lord, what if I had? Marry if thou hadst, thou mightst haue had the stab, For he hath solemnely sworne thy death. I may be stabd, and liue till he be dead, But wherfore beares he me such deadly hate? Because his wife beares thee such kindely loue. If that be all, the next time that I meet her, Ile make her shake offloue with her heeles. But which way is he gone, Ile goe make a walk on purpose from the Court to meet with him. I like not this, come Epernoune lets goe seek the Duke and make them freends. The Duke is slaine and all his power dispearst, And we are grac'd with wreathes of victory: Thus God we see doth euer guide the right, To make his glory great vpon the earth. The terrour of this happy victory, I hope will make the King surcease his hate: And either neuer mannage army more▪ Or elso employ them in some better cause. How many noble men haue lost their liues, In prosecution of these cruell armes, Is ruth and almost death to call to minde: But God we know will alwaies put them downe, That lift themselues against the perfect truth, Which Ile maintaine so long as life doth last, And with the Q. of England ioyne my force: To beat the papall Monarck from our lands, And keep those relicks from our countries coastes. Come my Lords now that this storme is ouerpast, Let vs away with triumph to our tents.