S., W. · published 1602 · first performed or written 1600 [c.1599-1602] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T10 England and France: war, embassy and pea · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
No Hodge, we must begone unto Bononia, There to relieve the noble Earl of Bedford: Where if I fail not in my policy, I shall deceive their subtle treachery. Nay I'll follow you, God bless us from the thieving Bandettoes again. Am I betrayed, was Bedford borne to die, By such base slaves in such a place as this: Have I escaped so many times in France, So many battles have I overpassed, And made the French stir when they heard my name; And am I now betrayed unto my death, Some of their heart's blood first shall pay for it. They do desire my Lord to speak with you. The traitors do desire to have my blood, But by my birth, my honour, and my name: By all my hopes, my life shall cost them dear. Open the door, i'll venture out upon them, And if I must die, then i'll die with honour. Alas my Lord that is a desperate course, They have begirt you round about the house: Their meaning is to take you prisoner, And so to send your body unto France. First shall the Ocean be as dry as sand, Before alive they send me unto France: I'll have my body first bored like a Siue, And die as Hector, 'gainst the Myrmidons, ere France shall boast Bedfords their prisoner, Treacherous France that 'gainst the law of arms: Hath here betrayed thy enemy to death, But be assured my blood shallbe revenged, Upon the best lives that remains in France, Stand back, or else thou runnest upon thy death. Pardon my Lord, I come to tell your honour, That they have hired a Neapolitan: Who by his Oratory hath promised them, Without the shedding of one drop of blood, Into their hands safe to deliver you, And therefore craves none but himself may enter, And a poor swain that attends on him. A Neapolitan bid him come in, Were he as cunning in his Eloquence: As Cicero the famous man of Rome, His words would be as chaff against the wind, Sweet-tongued Ulysses that made Ajax mad; Were he and his tongue in this speakers head, Alive he wins me not, then 'tis no conquest dead. Sir are you the master of the house, I am sir. By this same token you must leave this place, And leave none but the Earl and I together, And this my peasant here to tend on us. With all my heart, God grant, you do some good. Now sir, what's your will with me? Intends your honour, not to yield yourself: No good man goose, not while my sword doth last, Is this your eloquence for to persuade me. My Lord my eloquence is for to save you, I am not as you judge a Neapolitan: But Cromwell your servant, and an Englishman. How Cromwell, not my farrier's son. The same sir, and am come to succour you. Yes faith sir, and I am Hodge, your poor Smith, Many a time and oft, have I shod your Dapper Grey.
seed 43: T8 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
No Hodge, we must begone vnto Bononia, There to releeue the noble Earle of Bedford: Where if I faile not in my policie, I shall deceiue their subtile treacherie. Naye Ile follow you, God blesse vs from the theeuing Bandettoes againe. Am I betraide, was Bedforde borne to die, By such base slaues in such a place as this: Haue I escaped so many times in France, So many battailes haue I ouer passed, And made the French stirre when they hard my name; And am I now betraide vnto my death, Some of their harts bloud first shall pay for it. They do desire my Lord to speake with you. The traitors doe desire to haue my bloud, But by my birth, my honour, and my name: By all my hopes, my life shall cost them deare. Open the dore, ile venter out vpon them, And if I must die, then ile die with honour. Alas my Lord that is a desperate course, They haue begirt you round about the house: Their meaning is to take you prisoner, And so to send your bodie vnto France. First shall the Ocean be as drie as sand, Before aliue they send me vnto France: Ile haue my bodie first bored like a Siue, And die as Hector, gainst the Myrmidons, Eare France shall boast Bedfordes their prisoner, Trecherous France that gainst the law of armes: Hath here betraide thy enemie to death, But be assured my bloud shalbe reuenged, Vpon the best liues that remaines in France, Stand backe, or els thou run'st vpon thy death. Pardon my Lord, I come to tell your honour, That they haue hired a Neopolitan: Who by his Oratorie hath promised them, Without the shedding of one drop of bloud, Into their handes safe to deliuer you, And therefore craues none but himselfe may enter, And a poore swaine that attendes on him. A Neopolitan bid him come in, Were he as cunning in his Eloquence: As Cicero the famous man of Rome, His wordes would be as chaffe against the winde, Sweete-tong'd Ulisses that made Aiaxe mad; Were he and his toung in this speakers head, Aliue he winnes me not, then tis no conquest dead. Sir are you the maister of the house, I am sir. By this same token you must leaue this place, And leaue none but the Earle and I together, And this my Pessant here to tend on vs. With al my hart, God grant, you doe some good. Now sir, whats your will with me? Intends your honour, not to yeeld your selfe: No good man goose, not while my sword doth last, Is this your eloquence for to perswade me. My Lord my eloquence is for to saue you, I am not as you iudge a Neopolitan: But Cromwell your seruant, and an Englishman. How Cromwel, not my Farriers sonne. The same sir, and am come to succour you. Yes faith sir, and I am Hodge, your poore Smith, Many a time and oft, haue I shooed your Dapper Gray.