Heywood, Thomas · published 1600 · first performed or written 1599 [1592-1599] (Annals) history · Derby's (Strange's) Men T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.76 · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
So much he signified to me by letter. Well we shall see his entertainment: forward. Fly to our main battle, bid them stand, There's treason plotted: speak to me Lord Scales, Or if there be no power of life remaining, To utter thy heart's grievance, make a sign, Two of our common soldiers slain beside, This is hard welcome: but it was not you, At whom the fatal engineer did aim, My breast the level was, though you the mark, In which conspiracy answer me Duke, Is not thy soul as guilty as the Earls? Perish my soul, King Edward, if I knew Of any such intention: yet I did, and grieve that it hath sped no otherwise. Howard and Sellinger? What is there hope of life in none of them? The soldiers are both slain outright my Lord, But the Lord Scales a little is recovered. Convey his body to our Pavilion, And let our Surgeons use all diligence They can devise for safeguard of his life, Whilst we with all extremity of war, Go plague S. Quintin's: Howard fetch on our powers, We will not stir a foot, till we have she wne Just vengeance on the Constable of France. Oh God, to woo us first to pass the sea, And at our coming thus to halt with us, I think the like thereof was never seen. But where's the Duke? Gone as it seems my Lord, Stepped secretly away, as one that knew His conscience would accuse him if he staid. A pair of most dissembling hypocrites, Is he and this base Earl, on whom I vow, Leaving King Lewis unprejudiced in peace, To spend the whole measure of my kindled rage, Their streets shall sweat with their effused blood, And this bright Sun be darkened with the smoke, Of smouldering cinders, when their city lies Buried in ashes of revengeful fire, On whose pale superstcies in the stead Of parchment, with my lance I'll draw these lines, Edward of England left this memory, In just revenge of hateful treachery. Lord Howard have ye done as I commanded? Our battles are disposed, and on the brow Of every inferior servitor my Lord, You might behold destruction figured, Greedily thrusting to begin the fight: But when no longer they might be restrained, And that the drum and trumpet both began To sound wars cheerful harmony: behold, A flag of truce upon the walls was hanged, And forth the gates did issue meekly paced, three men, whereof the Constable is one, The other two the Gunner and his mate, By whose gross oversight (as they report) This sudden chance unwittingly befell. Bring forth the Constable: the other two, See them safe guarded, till you know our pleasure. Now my Lord Howard, how be't with Scales? Well my dread Sovereign, now his wound is dressed, And by the opinion of the Surgeons, It's thought he shall not perish by this hurt.
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Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
So much he signified to me by letter. Well we shall see his entertainment: forward. Flie to our maine battaile, bid them stand, Theres treason plotted: speake to me Lord Scales, Or if there be no power of life remaining, To vtter thy hearts greuance, make a signe, Two of our common souldiours slaine beside, This is hard welcome: but it was not you, At whom the tatall enginer did aime, My breast the leuell was, though you the marke, In which conspiracie answer me Duke, Is not thy soule as guiltie as the Earles? Perish my soule, King Edward, if I knew Of any such intention: yet I did, and grieue that it hath sped no otherwise. Howard and Sellinger? What is there hope of life in none of them? The souldiours are both slaine outright my Lord, But the Lord Scales a little is recouered. Conuay his body to our Pauillion, And let our Surgeons vse all diligence They can deuise for safegard of his life, Whilst we with all extremitie of warre, Goe plague S. Quintins: Howard fetch on our powers, We will not stirre a foote, till we haue she wne Just vengeance on the Constable of France. Oh God, to wooe vs first to passe the sea, And at our comming thus to halt with vs, I thinke the like thereof was neuer seene. But wheres the Duke? Gone as it seemes my Lord, Stept secretly away, as one that knew His conscience would accuse him if he staide. A paire of most dissembling hypocrites, Is he and this base Earle, on whom I vow, Leauing King Lewis vnpreiudizde in peace, To spend the whole measure of my kindled rage, Their stréetes shall sweate with their effused blood, And this bright Sunne be darkned with the smoke, Of smouldring cinders, when their citie lies Buried in ashes of reuengefull fire, On whose pale superstcies in the stead Of parchmēt, with my launce Ile draw these lines, Edward of England left this memorie, In iust reuenge of hatefull trecherie. Lord Howard haue ye done as I commanded? Our battailes are disposde, and on the brow Of euery inferiour seruiter my Lord, You might behold destruction figured, Greedily thrusting to begin the fight: But when no longer they might be restrainde, And that the drumme and trumpet both began To sound warres chéerefull harmonie: behold, A flagge of truce vpon the walles was hangd, And forth the gates did issue méekly pac't, Thrée men, whereof the Constable is one, The other two the Gunner and his mate, By whose grosse ouer-sight (as they report) This sudden chance vnwittingly befell. Bring forth the Constable: the other two, Sée them safe guarded, till you know our pleasure. Now my Lord Howard, how with Scales? Well my dread Soueraigne, now his wound is drest, And by the opinion of the Surgeons, Its thought he shall not perish by this hurt.