Heywood, Thomas · published 1600 · first performed or written 1599 [1592-1599] (Annals) history · Derby's (Strange's) Men T10 England and France: war, embassy and pea typicality 0.79 · 481 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
My Liege, this from the D. of Burgundy. And this is from the Constable of France. What news from them? To claim our right in France? And they will aid us, yea, will ye so? But other aid must aid us ere we go. A woman's aid, that hath more power than France To crown us, or to kill us with mischance. If chaste resolve be to such beauty tied, Sue how thou canst, thou wilt be still denied, Her husband hath deserved well of thee, Tut, love makes no respect where'er it be, Thou wrong'st thy Queen: every enforced ill, Must be endured, where beauty seeks to kill: Thou seemst to read, only to blind their eyes, Who knowing it, thy folly would despise. Thanks for my cheer L. Maior, I am not well, I know not how to take these news. This fit I mean, That hath bereft me of all reason clean. God shield my Sovereign. Nay nothing I shall be well anon. May it please your Highness sit. ay, fain with thee, nay we must needs be gone, cousin Howard convey these letters to our counsel, And bid them give us their advise of them, Thanks for my cheer L. Maior, farewell to you And farewell Mistress Shore, La. Majoress I should say, It's you have caused our parting at this time. Farewell M. Shore, farewell to all, we'll meet once more to make amends for this. Oh God here to be ill? My house to cause my sovereign's discontent? cousin Shore I had rather spent. Content yourself my L. kings have their humours, The letters did contain somewhat no doubt, That did displease him. So my Lord think I, But by God's help he will be well again. I hope so too, well cousin for your pains, I can but thank ye, chiefly you fair Niece, At night I pray ye both come sup with me. How say ye? will ye? Yes my Lord we will. So for this time we humbly take our leave. Oh now the sudden sickness of my Liege, afflicts my soul with many passions? His Highness did intend to be right merry, And God he knows how it would glad my soul, If I had seen his Highness satisfied With the poor entertainment of his Maior, His humble vassal, whose lands, whose life and all Are, and in duty must be always his. Well, God I trust will bless his grace's health, And quickly ease him of his sudden fit. Take away there ho, rid this place, And God of heaven bless my sovereign's Grace. Sirrah Jack, come set out. You are the elder Prentice, I pray you do it, lest my mistress talk with you when she comes down, what is it o'clock? Sir by All-hallows. Lying and stealing will bring ye to the Gallows. Is here all the plate?
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)
My Liedge, this from the D. of Burgundy. Ad this is from the Constable of Fraunce. What newes from them? To clayme our right in Fraunce? And they will ayde vs, yea, will ye so? But other ayde must ayde vs ere we goe. A womans aid, that hath more power then France To crowne vs, or to kill vs with mischance. If chast resolue be to such beautie tyed, Sue how thou canst, thou wilt be still denied, Her husband hath deserued well of thee, Tut, loue makes no respect where re it be, Thou wrongst thy Quéene: euerie enforced ill, Must be endur'de, where beautie séekes to kill: Thou seemst to read, onely to blind their eyes, Who knowing it, thy folly would despise. Thanks for my cheare L. Maior, I am not well, I know not how to take these newes. This fit I , That hath berest me of all reason eleane. God shield my Soueraigne. Nay nothing I shall be well anone. May it please your Highnes sit. I, faine with thee, nay we must néeds be gon, Cosin Howard conuey these letters to our counsel, And bid them giue vs their aduise of them, Thanks for my cheare L. Maior, farewell to you And farewell Mistresse Shoare, La. Maioresse I should say, It's you haue causde our parting at this time. Farewell M. Shoare, farewell to all, Weele meet once more to make amends for this. Oh God here to be ill? My house to cause my Soueraignes discontent? Cosin Shoare I had rather spent. Content your selfe my L. kings haue their humor The letters did containe somewhat no doubt, That did displease him. So my Lord thinke I, But by Gods helpe he will be well againe. I hope so too, well Cosin for your paines, I can but thanke ye, chiefly you faire Niece, At night I pray yée both come sup with me. How say ye? will yee? Yes my Lord wee will. So for this time we humbly take our leaue. Oh now the sudden sicknesse of my Liedge, Afflictes my soule with many passions? His Highnes did entend to be right merrie, And God he knowes how it would glad my soule, If I had seene his Highnes satisfied With the poore entertainement of his Maior, His humble vassaile, whose lands, whose life and all Are, and in dutie must be alwaies his. Well, God I trust will blesse his Graces health, And quickly ease him of his sudden fit. Take away there ho, rid this place, And God of heauen blesse my Soueraignes Grace. Sirra Iacke, come set out. You are the elder Prentise, I pray you do it, least my mistcis talke with you when shée comes downe, what is it a clocke? Sir by Alhallowes. Lying and stealing will bring ye to the Gallowes. Is here all the plate?