The Trial of Chivalry (This Gallant Cavaliero Dick Bowyer) · chunk 5 of 38
Anonymous · published 1605 · first performed or written 1601 [1599-1604] (Annals) romance · Derby's (Strange's) Men unassigned nearest T13 Knights, squires and ladies · 475 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T13: knight, raph, lady, knights, george, master, squire, rafe, pray, god.
Prince Ferdinand, and honoured English Pembroke, Now by S. Denis, welcome. One run straight, And give our daughter notice of these guests. What man, we know you come prepared to woo: To woo, to win; now by our sacred life, We wish in soul our daughter were your wife. Our son is with your sister, fair hap wait: For peace or war lives in your love or hate. Welcome once more, first, we'll go see your love, After, to banquet, and from thence to woo. Be merry, then we'll share a friendly part, But you shall triumph in our daughter's heart. See that the Tent be ready furnished. By this, my father and those Lords are met, 'mongst whom, the noble Pembroke, like the Sun, Outshines the borrowed glory of the rest: And well I may compare him to the Sun, That but once looked upon with his fair shape, Hath dazzled my poor senses, and left me blind. But sirrah, where's the man I bade you bring? If you can judge of colours (Madam) this is he. Paynter, stand forth. An earnest cause (my friend) importunes me, Wherein I am to crave thy cunningest Art. Such as it is, you may command, fair Princess. But are thy colours fresh? thy pencil smooth? Thy hand unwavering? and thy head dislodged Of all unquiet harsh encumbrances? For thou must draw proportion of those parts, Whose worth to tell, my tongue wants utterance. Fear you not (Madam) I am well prepared. Then hither straight with youthful Ferdinand, Navarre's stout son, there comes an English Knight, Pembroke they call him, honourably borne: Him (whilst we are in conference) thou shalt mark, And to the life set down his counterfeit. Nor is it needful I should show him thee, The goodliest person in the train, that's he. Let me alone to give the Painter destruction, I know him as well as the Beggar knows his dish: he wears a white Scarf in his hat, and an Orange tawny feather upon his arm. Fool, indirectly thou describest another: That's Prince Navarre, Pembroke his plume is Azure, A little intermixed with spotless white, Prefiguring the temper of the Sky, With whose high motion his great mind doth move. Orange tawny and Azure, all's one, all is but feather, there is no difference I am sure but in colour. Why, that's as much as may be, is it not? Not so, i'll prove the contrary: You are fair, and I am foul, is that all the difference between you and I? there's another thing in it, if you mark it well. I prithee peace, and with thy ignorance Draw not the Painter likewise into error. Here take thy stand, thou know'st him by these marks I lately spoke of: seem to excel thine Art, And I will study to requite thy pains.
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)
Prince Ferdinand, and honourd Engliſh Pembrooke, Now by S. Denis, welcome. One runne ſtraight, And giue our daughter notice of theſe gheſts. What man, we know you come prepar'd to woo: To woo, to winne; now by our ſacred life, We wiſh in ſoule our daughter were your wife. Our ſonne is with your ſiſter, faire hap wayt: For peace or war liues in your loue or hate. Welcome once more, firſt, weele go ſee your loue, After, to banquet, and from thence to woo. Be merry, then weele ſhare a friendly part, But you ſhall tryumph in our daughters heart. See that the Tent be ready furniſhed. By this, my father and thoſe Lords are met, Mongſt whom, the noble Pembrooke, like the Sunne, Out-ſhines the borrowed glory of the reſt: And well I may compare him to the Sunne, That but once lookt vpon with his fayre ſhape, Hath dazled my poore ſences, and left me blind. But ſirra, where's the man I bade you bring? If you can iudge of colours (Madam) this is he. Paynter, ſtand forth. An earneſt cauſe (my friend) importunes me, Wherein I am to craue thy cunningſt Arte. Such as it is, you may commaund, faire Princeſſe. But are thy colours freſh? thy penſill ſmoothe? Thy hand vnwauering? and thy head diſlodg'd Of all vnquiet harſh incumbrances? For thou muſt draw proportion of thoſe parts, Whoſe worth to tell, my toung wants vtterance. Feare you not (Madam) I am well prepar'd. Then hither ſtrait with youthfull Ferdinand, Nauars ſtout ſonne, there comes an Engliſh Knight, Pembrooke they call him, honourably borne: Him (whilſt we are in conference) thou ſhalt marke, And to the life ſet downe his counterfet. Nor is it needfull I ſhould ſhew him thee, The goodlieſt perſon in the traine, that's he. Let me alone to giue the Paynter deſtruction, I know him as well as the Begger knowes his diſh: he weares a white Scarfe in his hat, and an Orange tawny feather vpon his arme. Foole, indirectly thou deſcrib'ſt another: Thats Prince Nauar, Pembrooke his plume is Azure, A little intermixt with ſpotleſſe white, Prefiguring the temper of the Sky, With whoſe hye motion his great mind doth moue. Orange tawny and Azure, all's one, all is but feather, there is no difference I am ſure but in colour. Why, thats as much as may be, is it not? Not ſo, ile proue the contrary: You are fayre, and I am foule, is that all the difference betweene you and I? there's another thing in it, if you marke it well. I prythee peace, and with thy ignorance Draw not the Paynter likewiſe into errour. Here take thy ſtand, thou knowſt him by theſe markes I lately ſpake of: ſeeme to excell thine Arte, And I will ſtudy to requite thy paynes.