Shakespeare, William · published 1600 · first performed or written 1599 (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T10 England and France: war, embassy and pea typicality 0.86 · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
I and it shall please your Majesty, There is excellent service at the bridge. What men have you lost Flewellen? And it shall please your Majesty, The partition of the adversary hath been great, Very reasonably great: but for our own parts, like you now, I think we have lost never a man, unless it be one For robbing of a church, one Bardolfe, if your Majesty Know the man, his face is full of whelks and knubs, And pumples, and his breath blows at his nose Like a coal, sometimes red, sometimes plew: But god be praised, now his nose is executed, & his fire out. We would have all offenders so cut off, And we here give express commandment, That there be nothing taken from the villages but paid for, None of the French abused, Or abraided with disdainful language: For when cruelty and lenity play for a Kingdom, The gentlest gamester is the sooner winner. You know me by my habit. Well then, we know thee, what should we know of thee? My masters mind. Unfold it. Go thee unto Harry of England, and tell him, Advantage is a better soldier than rashness: Although we did seem dead, we did but slumber. Now we speak upon our cue, and our voice is imperial, England shall repent her folly: see her rashness, And admire our sufferance. Which to ransom, His pettinesse would bow under: For the effusion of our blood, his army is too weak: For the disgrace we have borne, himself Kneeling at our feet, a weak and worthless satisfaction. To this, add defiance. So much from the king my master. What is thy name? we know they quality. Montioy. Thou dost thy office fair, return thee back, And tell thy King, I do not seek him now: But could be well content, without impeach, To march on to Calais: for to say the sooth, Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much Unto an enemy of craft and vantage. My soldiers are with sickness much enfeebled, My Army lessoned, and those few I have, Almost no better than so many French: Who when they were in heart, I tell thee Herald, I thought upon one pair of English legs, Did march three French mens. Yet forgive me God, that I do brag thus: This your heir of France hath blown this vice in me. I must repent, go tell thy master here I am, My ransom is this frail and worthless body, My Army but a weak and sickly guard. Yet God before, we will come on, If France and such an other neighbour stood in our way: If we may pass, we will: if we be hindered, We shall your tawny ground with your red blood discolour. So Montioy get you gone, there is for your pains: The sum of all our answer is but this, We would not seek a battle as we are: Nor as we are, we say we will not shun it.
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)
I and it shall please your Maiestie, There is excellent seruice at the bridge. What men haue you lost Flewellen? And it shall please your Maiestie, The partition of the aduersarie hath bene great, Very reasonably great: but for our own parts, like you now, I thinke we haue lost neuer a man, vnlesse it be one For robbing of a church, one Bardolfe, if your Maiestie Know the man, his face is full of whelkes and knubs, And pumples, and his breath blowes at his nose Like a cole, sometimes red, sometimes plew: But god be praised, now his nose is executed, & his fire out. We would haue all offenders so cut off, And we here giue expresse commaundment, That there be nothing taken from the villages but paid for, None of the French abused, Or abraided with disdainfull language: For when cruelty and lenitie play for a Kingdome, The gentlest gamester is the sooner winner. You know me by my habit. Well thē, we know thee, what shuld we know of thee? My maisters minde. Vnfold it. Go thee vnto Harry of England, and tell him, Aduantage is a better souldier then rashnesse: Altho we did seeme dead, we did but slumber. Now we speake vpon our kue, and our voyce is imperiall, England shall repent her folly: see her rashnesse, And admire our sufferance. Which to raunsome, His pettinesse would bow vnder: For the effusion of our blood, his army is too weake: For the disgrace we haue borne, himselfe Kneeling at our feete, a weake and worthlesse satisfaction. To this, adde defyance. So much from the king my maister. What is thy name? we know they qualitie. Montioy. Thou dost thy office faire, returne thee backe, And tell thy King, I do not seeke him now: But could be well content, without impeach, To march on to Callis: for to say the sooth, Though tis no wisdome to confesse so much Vnto an enemie of craft and vantage. My souldiers are with sicknesse much infeebled, My Army lessoned, and those fewe I haue, Almost no better then so many French: Who when they were in heart, I tell thee Herauld, I thought vpon one paire of English legges, Did march three French mens. Yet forgiue me God, that I do brag thus: This your heire of France hath blowne this vice in me. I must repent, go tell thy maister here I am, My raunsome is this frayle and worthlesse body, My Army but a weake and sickly guarde. Yet God before, we will come on, If France and such an other neighbour stood in our way: If we may passe, we will: if we be hindered, We shal your tawny ground with your red blood discolour. So Montioy get you gone, there is for your paines: The sum of all our answere is but this, We would not seeke a battle as we are: Nor as we are, we say we will not shun it.