S., W. · published 1613 · first performed or written 1600 [c.1599-1602] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T59 Spanish courts: war, honour and courtshi · 467 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T59: andrea, spain, portugal, tribute, horatio, king, bellimperia, prince, lord, lorenzo.
Fill me some Wine: I'll answer Cardinal Wolsey: My Lord we Englishmen are of more here souls, Then hunger starved, and ill complexioned spaniards, They that are rich in Spain, spare belly food, To deck their backs with an Italian hood, And Silks of Civil: And the poorest Snake, That feeds on Lemons, Pilchers, and near heated His pallet with sweet flesh, will bear a case, More fat and gallant than his starved face, Pride, the Inquisition, and this belly-evill, Are in my judgement Spain's three headed devil. Indeed it is a plague unto their nation. Who stagger after in blind imitation. My Lords with welcome, I present your Lordships A solemn health. I love health well, but when as healthy do bring Pain to the head, and bodies surfeiting: Then cease I healthy: nay spill not friend, For though the drops be small, Yet have they force, to force men to the wall. Sir Christopher, is that your man? And like your grace he is a Scholar, and a linguist, One that hath traveled many parts of Christendom my Lord. My friend come nearer, have you been a traveler? My Lord I have added to my knowledge, the low countries, France, Spain, Germany, and Italy: And though small gain of profit I did find, Yet did it please my eye, content my mind. What do you think of the several states. And Princes Courts as you have traveled? My Lord no Court with England may compare, Neither for state nor civil government: Lust dwells in France, in Italy, and Spain, From the poor peasant to the Prince's train, In Germany, and Holland riot serves, And he that most can drink, most he deserves: England I praise not: for I here was borne, But that she laugheth the others unto scorn. My Lord there dwells within that spirit. More than can be discerned by outward eye, Sir Christopher will you part with your man? I have sought to proffer him to your Lordship, And now I see he hath preferred himself. What is thy name? Cromwell my Lord. Then Cromwell here we make thee solicitor of our causes, And nearest next ourself: Gardiner give you kind welcome to the man. My Lord you are a royal Winer. Hath got a man besides your bounteous dinner, Well Knight, pray we come no more: If we come often, thou mayst shut thy door. Sir Christopher hadst thou given me. Half thy lands, thou couldst not have pleased me So much as with this man of thine, My infant thoughts do spell: Shortly his fortune shall be lifted higher, True industry doth kindle honour's fire, And so kind Master of the Rolls farewell. Cromwell farewell. Cromwell takes his leave of you That near will leave to love and honour you.
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)
Fill me ſome Wine: Ile anſwere Cardinall Wolſay: My Lord we Engliſhmen are of more heer ſoules, Then hunger ſtaru'd, and ill complexioned ſpaniards, They that are rich in Spaine, ſpare belly foode, To decke their backes with an Italian hoode, And Silkes of Ciuill: And the pooreſt Snake, That feedes on Lemmons, Pilchers, and neare heated His pallet with ſweete fleſh, will beare a caſe, More fat and gallant then his ſtarued face, Pride, the Inquiſition, and this belly-euill, Are in my iudgement Spaines three headed diuell. Indeede it is a plague vnto their nation. Who ſtager after in blinde imitation. My Lords with welcome, I preſent your Lordſhips A ſolemne health. I loue health well, but when as health doe bring Paine to the head, and bodies ſurfetting: Then ceaſe I health: nay ſpill not friend, For though the drops be ſmall, Yet haue they force, to force men to the wall. Sir Chriſtopher, is that your man? And like your grace he is a Scholler, and a Ligueſt, One that hath trauelled many parts of Chriſtendome my Lord. My friend come nearer, haue you beene a traueller? My Lord I haue added to my knowledge, the low countries, France, Spaine, Germanie, and Italie: And though ſmall gaine of profit I did finde, Yet did it pleaſe my eye, content my minde. What doe you thinke of the ſeuerall ſtates. And Princes Courts as you haue trauelled? My Lord no Court with England may compare, Neither for ſtate nor ciuill gouernment: Luſt dwelles in France, in Italie, and Spaine, From the poore peſant to the Princes traine, In Germanie, and Holland riot ſerues, And he that moſt can drinke, moſt he deſerues: England I praiſe not: for I here was borne, But that ſhe laugheth the others vnto ſcorne. My Lord there dwelles within that ſpirit. More then can be diſcern'd by outward eye, Sir Christopher will you part with your man? I haue ſought to proffer him to your Lordſhip, And now I ſee he hath preferred himſelfe. What is thy name? Cromwell my Lord. Then Cromwell here we make thee ſoliciter of our cauſes, And neareſt next our ſelfe: Gardiner giue you kinde welcome to the man. My Lord you are a royall Winer. Hath got a man beſides your bountious dinner, Well Knight, pray we come no more: If we come often, thou maiſt ſhut thy doore. Sir Chriſtopher hadſt thou giuen me. Halfe thy lands, thou couldeſt not haue pleaſed me So much as with this man of thine, My infant thoughts doe ſpell: Shortly his fortune ſhall be lifted higher, True induſtry doth kindle honours fire, And ſo kinde Maiſter of the Roules farewell. Cromwell farewell. Cromwell takes his leaue of you That neare will leaue to loue and honour you.