Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1599 (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T10 England and France: war, embassy and pea typicality 0.80 · 496 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
We hope to make the Sender blush at it: Therefore, my Lords, omit no happy hour, That may give furtherance to our Expedition: For we have now no thought in us but France, Save those to God, that run before our business. Therefore let our proportions for these Wars Be soon collected, and all things thought upon, That may with reasonable swiftness add More Feathers to our Wings: for God before, we'll chide this Dolphin at his father's door. Therefore let every man now task his thought, That this fair Action may on foot be brought. Now all the Youth of England are on fire, And silken Dalliance in the Wardrobe lies: Now thrive the Armourers, and Honour's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man. They sell the Pasture now, to buy the Horse; Following the Mirror of all Christian Kings, With winged heels, as English Mercuries. For now sits Expectation in the Air, And hides a Sword, from Hilts unto the Point, With Crowns Imperial, Crowns and Coronets, Promised to Harry, and his followers. The French advised by good intelligence Of this most dreadful preparation, Shake in their fear, and with pale Policy Seek to divert the English purposes. O England: Model to thy inward Greatness, Like little Body with a mighty Heart: What mightst thou do, that honour would thee do, Were all thy children kind and natural: But see, thy fault France hath in thee found out, A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills With treacherous Crowns, and three corrupted men: One, Richard Earl of Cambridge, and the second Henry Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third Sir Thomas Grey Knight of Northumberland, Have for the Gilt of France (O guilt indeed) Confirmed Conspiracy with fearful France, And by their hands, this grace of Kings must dye. If Hell and Treason hold their promises, Ere he take ship for France; and in Southampton. Linger your patience on, and we'll digest Th' abuse of distance; force a play: The sum is paid, the Traitors are agreed, The King is set from London, and the Scene Is now transported (Gentles) to Southampton, There is the Playhouse now, there must you sit, And thence to France shall we convey you safe, And bring you back: Charming the narrow seas To give you gentle Pass: for if we may, we'll not offend one stomach with our Play. But till the King come forth, and not till then, Unto Southampton do we shift our Scene. Well met Corporal Nym. Good morrow Lieutenant Bardolfe. What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet? For my part, I care not: I say little: but when time shall serve, there shall be smiles, but that shall be as it may. I dare not fight, but I will wink and hold out mine iron: it is a simple one, but what though? It will toast Cheese, and it will endure cold, as another man's sword will: and there's an end.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 438–495 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 8 of 51 in this edition
Length
496 words · 647 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T10 — England and France: war, embassy and peacecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.805 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
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)
We hope to make the Sender bluſh at it: Therefore, my Lords, omit no happy howre, That may giue furth'rance to our Expedition: For we haue now no thought in vs but France, Saue thoſe to God, that runne before our buſineſſe. Therefore let our proportions for theſe Warres Be ſoone collected, and all things thought vpon, That may with reaſonable ſwiftneſſe adde More Feathers to our Wings: for God before, Wee'le chide this Dolphin at his fathers doore. Therefore let euery man now taske his thought, That this faire Action may on foot be brought. Now all the Youth of England are on fire, And ſilken Dalliance in the Wardrobe lyes: Now thriue the Armorers, and Honors thought Reignes ſolely in the breaſt of euery man. They ſell the Paſture now, to buy the Horſe; Following the Mirror of all Chriſtian Kings, With winged heeles, as Engliſh Mercuries. For now ſits Expectation in the Ayre, And hides a Sword, from Hilts vnto the Point, With Crownes Imperiall, Crownes and Coronets▪ Promis'd to Harry, and his followers. The French aduis'd by good intelligence Of this moſt dreadfull preparation, Shake in their feare, and with pale Pollicy Seeke to diuert the Engliſh purpoſes. O England: Modell to thy inward Greatneſſe, Like little Body with a mightie Heart: What mightſt thou do, that honour would thee do, Were all thy children kinde and naturall: But ſee, thy fault France hath in thee found out, A neſt of hollow boſomes, which he filles With treacherous Crownes, and three corrupted men: One, Richard Earle of Cambridge, and the ſecond Henry Lord Scroope of Maſham, and the third Sir Thomas Grey Knight of Northumberland, Haue for the Gilt of France (O guilt indeed) Confirm'd Conſpiracy with fearefull France, And by their hands, this grace of Kings muſt dye. If Hell and Treaſon hold their promiſes, Ere he take ſhip for France; and in Southampton. Linger your patience on, and wee'l digeſt Th' abuſe of diſtance; force a play: The ſumme is payde, the Traitors are agreed, The King is ſet from London, and the Scene Is now tranſported (Gentles) to Southampton, There is the Play-houſe now, there muſt you ſit, And thence to France ſhall we conuey you ſafe, And bring you backe: Charming the narrow ſeas To giue you gentle Paſſe: for if we may, Wee'l not offend one ſtomacke with our Play. But till the King come forth, and not till then, Vnto Southampton do we ſhift our Scene. Well met Corporall Nym. Good morrow Lieutenant Bardolfe. What, are Ancient Piſtoll and you friends yet? For my part, I care not: I ſay little: but when time ſhall ſerue, there ſhall be ſmiles, but that ſhall be as it may. I dare not fight, but I will winke and holde out mine yron: it is a ſimple one, but what though? It will toſte Cheeſe, and it will endure cold, as another mans ſword will: and there's an end.