Wilson, Robert / Drayton, Michael / Munday, Anthony / Hathaway, Richard · published 1600 · first performed or written 1599 [Oct 16, payment] (Annals) history · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men unassigned nearest T18 Rebels, barons and the king's wars at ho · 469 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T18: king, lord, wallace, earl, edward, england, scotland, rebels, bruce, english.
My Lords of Suffolk and of Huntington, Who scouts it now? or who stands Sentinels? What men of worth? what Lords do walk the round? May it please your Highness. Peace, no more of that, The King's asleep, wake not his majesty, With terms nor titles, he's at rest in bed, Kings do not use to watch themselves, they sleep, And let rebellion and conspiracy, Revel and havoc in the common wealth, Is London looked unto? It is my Lord, Your noble Uncle Exeter is there, Your brother Gloucester and my Lord of Warwick, Who with the maior and the Aldermen, Do guard the gates, and keep good rule within, The Earl of Cambridge, and sir Thomas Grey, Do walk the Round, Lord Scroop and Butler scout, So though it please your majesty to jest, Were you in bed, well might you take your rest, I thank ye Lords, but you do know of old, That I have been a perfect nightwalker, London you say is safely looked unto, Alas poor rebels, there your aid must fail, And the Lord Cobham sir Iohn Oldcastle, he's quiet in Kent, Acton ye are deceived, Reckon again, you count without your host, Tomorrow you shall give account to us, Till when my friends, this long cold winter's night, How can we spend? King Harry is asleep, And all his Lords, these garments tell us so, All friends at football, fellows all in field, Harry, and Dick, and George, bring us a drum, Give us square dice, we'll keep this court of guard, For all good fellows companies that come. Where's that mad priest ye told me was in Arms, To fight, as well as pray, if need required? he's in the Camp, and if he knew of this, I undertake he would not be long hence. Trip Dick, Trippe George. I must have the dice, What do we play at? Passage if ye please. Set round then, so, at all. George, you are out. Give me the dice, I pass for twenty pound, Here's to our lucky passage into France. Harry you pass indeed for you sweep all. A sign king Harry shall sweep all in France. Edge ye good fellows, take a fresh gamester in. Master Parson? we play nothing but gold? And fellow, I tell thee that the priest hath gold, gold? 'sblood ye are but beggarly soldiers to me, I think I have more gold than all you three. It may be so, but we believe it not. Set priest set, I pass for all that gold. Ye pass indeed. Priest, hast thou any more? Zounds what a question's that? I tell thee I have more than all you three, At these ten Angels. I wonder how thou comest by all this gold, How many benefices hast thou priest?
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 Lords of Suffolke and of Huntington, Who skouts it now? or who stands Sentinells? What men of worth? what Lords do walke the round? May it please your Highnesse. Peace, no more of that, The King's asleepe, wake not his maiestie, With termes nor titles, hee's at rest in bed, Kings do not vse to watch themselues, they sleepe, And let rebellion and conspiracie, Reuel and hauocke in the common wealth, Is London lookt vnto? It is my Lord, Your noble Vncle Exceter is there, Your brother Gloucester and my Lord of Warwicke, Who with the maior and the Aldermen, Do guard the gates, and keepe good rule within, The Earle of Cambridge, and sir Thomas Gray, Do walke the Round, Lord Scroope and Butler skout, So though it please your maiestie to iest, Were you in bed, well might you take your rest, I thank ye Lords, but you do know of old, That I haue bin a perfect night-walker, London you say is safely lookt vnto, Alas poore rebels, there your ayd must faile, And the Lord Cobham sir Iohn Old-castle, Hee's quiet in Kent, Acton ye are deceiu'd, Reckon againe, you count without your host, To morrow you shall giue account to vs, Til when my friends, this long cold winters night, How can we spend? King Harry is a sleepe, And al his Lords, these garments tel vs so, Al friends at footebal, fellowes all in field, Harry, and Dicke, and George, bring vs a drumme, Giue vs square dice, weele keepe this court of guard, For al good fellowes companies that come. Wheres that mad priest ye told me was in Armes, To fight, as wel as pray, if neede required? Hees in the Camp, and if he knew of this, I vndertake he would not be long hence. Trippe Dicke, Trippe George. I must haue the dice, What do we play at? Passage if ye please. Set round then, so, at all. George, you are out. Giue me the dice, I passe for twentie pound, Heres to our luckie passage into France. Harry you passe indeede for you sweepe all. A signe king Harry shal sweep al in France. Edge ye good fellowes, take a fresh gamster in. Master Parson? we play nothing but gold? And fellow, I tel thee that the priest hath gold, gold? sbloud ye are but beggerly souldiers to me, I thinke I haue more gold than all you three. It may be so, but we beleeue it not. Set priest set, I passe for all that gold. Ye passe indeede. Priest, hast thou any more? Zounds what a question's that? I tell thee I haue more then all you three, At these ten Angells. I wonder how thou comst by all this gold, How many benefices hast thou priest?