Blurt, Master Constable, or The Spaniard's Night Walk · chunk 32 of 34
Anonymous · published 1602 · first performed or written 1601 [1601-1602] (Annals) romance · Children of Paul's (second) T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.82 · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Stand, I charge you put up your naked weapons, and we'll put up our rusty Bills. Up to the hilts, we will in his French body. My Lord, we charge you by the ravished honour Of an Italian Lady: by our wrongs, By that eternal blot (which if this slave Pass free without revenge) like Leprosy, Will run over all the body of our fames; Give open way to our just wrath, least barred— Gentlemen— Breaking the bonds of honour and of duty; We cut a passage through you with our swords. He that withstands us, run him through. I charge you i'th' Duke's name (before his own face) to keep the peace. Keep thou the peace, that hast a peasant's heart. Peasant? Our peace must have her cheeks painted with blood. Away, through— Sweet Gentlemen: though you have called the Duke's own ghost Peasant, for I walk for him i'th' night: (Kilderkin & Pisse-breech hold out) yet hear me, (dear bloods) the Duke here for fault of a better and myself; (cuckoo fly not hence) for fault of a better, are to lay you by the heels, if you go thus with fire and sword; for the Duke is the head, and I Blurt, am the appurtenance: Woodcock keep by my side: Now sir— A plague upon this Woodcock; kill the Watch. Now in the name of manhood I conjure ye, Appear in your true shapes; Italians, You kill your honours more in this revenge, Than in his murder: Stay, stand, here's the house. Right Sir, this is the whore-house, here he calls and sets in his staff. Sheath all your weapons worthy Gentlemen, And by my life I swear, if Fontinell Have stained the honour of your sister's bed, The fact being death, I'll pay you his proud head, Arrest him then before our eyes; and see! Our fury sleeps. This honest Officer— Blurt sir. Shall fetch him forth: go sirrah, in our name Attach the French Lord. Garlic and the rest follow strongly. O what a scandal were it to a State, To have a stranger, (and a prisoner) Murdered by such a troup? Besides, through Venice Are numbers of his Countrymen dispersed; Whose rage (meeting with yours) none can prevent The mischief of a bloody consequent. The Duke is within an Inch of your nose, and therefore I dare play with it, if you put not up; deliver I advise you. Yield up my weapons and my foe so nigh? myself and weapons shall together yield, Come any one, come all. Kill, kill the Frenchman, kill him. Be satisfied my noble Countrymen, I'll trust you with his life, so you will pawn The faiths of Gentlemen, no desperate hand Shall rob him of it; otherwise, he runs Upon this dangerous point, that dares appose His rage 'gainst our authority: French Lord, Yield up this strength, our word shall be your Guard. Who defies death, needs none, he's well prepared.
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Stand, I charge you put vp your naked weapons, and wee'll put vp our rusty Billes. Vp to the hilts, we will in his French bodie. My Lord, we charge you by the rauisht honour Of an Italian Lady: by our wrongs, By that eternall blot (which if this slaue Passe free without reuenge) like Leprosie, Will run ouer all the bodie of our fames; Giue open way to our iust wrath, least bar'd— Gentlemen— Breaking the bonds of honour and of duetie; We cut a passage through you with our swoords. He that withstands vs, run him through. I charge you i'th Dukes name (before his owne face) to keep the peace. Keepe thou the peace, that hast a Peasants heart. Peasant? Our peace must haue her cheekes painted with bloud. Away, through— Sweet Gentlemen: though you haue called the Dukes owne ghost Peasant, for I walke for him i'th night: (Kilderkin & Pisse-breech holde out) yet heere me, (deare blouds) the Duke heere for fault of a better and my selfe; (Cuckoe flye not hence) for fault of a better, are to lay you by the heeles, if you goe thus with fire and swoord; for the Duke is the head, and I Blurt, am the purtenaunce: Woodcocke keepe by my side: Now sir— A plague vpon this Woodcocke; kill the Watch. Now in the name of manhood I coniure yee, Appeare in your true shapes; Italians, You kill your honours more in this reuenge, Than in his murder: Stay, stand, heer's the house. Right Sir, this is the whoore-house, heere hee calles and sets in his staffe. Sheath all your weapons worthy Gentlemen, And by my life I sweare, if Fontinell Haue stain'd the honour of your Sisters bed, The fact being death, Ile pay you his proude head, Arrest him then before our eyes; and see! Our furie sleepes. This honest Officer— Blurt sir. Shall fetch him foorth: goe sirra, in our name Attach the French Lord. Garlicke and the rest follow stronglie. O what a scandall were it to a State, To haue a stranger, (and a prisoner) Murdred by such a troope? Besides, through Uenice Are numbers of his Country-men dispearst; Whose rage (meeting with yours) none can preuent The mischiefe of a bloudie consequent. The Duke is within an Inch of your nose, and therefore I dare play with it, if you put not vp; deliuer I aduise you. Yeeld vp my weapons and my foe so nye? My selfe and weapons shall together yeeld, Come any one, come all. Kill, kill the Frenchman, kill him. Be satisfi'd my noble Countrymen, Ile trust you with his life, so you will pawne The faithes of Gentlemen, no desperate hand Shall rob him of it; otherwise, he runnes Vpon this daungerous point, that dares appose His rage gainst our authoritie: French Lord, Yeeld vp this strength, our word shal be your Guard. Who defyes death, needs none, hee's well prepar'd.