The Trial of Chivalry (This Gallant Cavaliero Dick Bowyer) · chunk 30 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 · 521 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T13: knight, raph, lady, knights, george, master, squire, rafe, pray, god.
His, whilst he lived, that of the world's increase, Was the most loyal friend, and valiant Knight: Which thou must likewise ratify with me, And hang thy shield up to adorn his Hearse, Or venture Combat for denying it. His name, I pray thee. Ferdinand. What's he acquainted with my name? belike some one Loved Pembroke, and supposing (wrongfully) Me slain by him, to satisfy for that, Observes this honour in my memory: Be not thou Ferdinand ingrateful then, But stand for Pembroke, as this knight for thee. What answer givest thou? shall I homage have? Not for his sake thou namest, not for Ferdinand: There lived a knight excelled his petty fame, As far as costly Pearl the coarsest Pebble: An English knight called Pembroke, were his bones Interred here, I would confess of him Much more than thou requirest, and be content To hang both shield and sword upon his Hearse. How comes this stranger by my name? Belike He was affected unto Ferdinand: And for his sake (hearing he did me wrong) Covets to make amends, or means to prove If I embrace him with unfeigned love. He shall not doubt of that, once more I say, 'Twas Ferdinand was the renowned Knight Of all the world. But I deny that saying, Giving to Pembroke that pre-eminence. For Ferdinand my valour will I try. In Pembroke's valour I will fight and die. Either I dream, or this is Ferdinand. My sight deludes me, or stout Pembroke lives. Thrice happy honoured, I do embrace my friend. Welcome, oh welcome Pembroke, to mine arms, Whom I imagined, death had ta'en from me. The like did I by Princely Ferdinand: But that he lives, my soul confounds with joy. Tell me, dear friend, since our unlucky fight, Have you heard aught of my disdainful Love? Of her and all the rest: Her father lives: This is his shield, and this is great Navarre's: This Rodorick's, the Duke of Orleans, And this malicious Bourbon's: all the which I forced from them, to beautify thy shrine. But 'tis of Katharine thou desir'st to hear: She likewise hath been here; her flinty heart, So much before inclined to cruelty, Now waxeth tender: she no sooner saw Thy picture here; but by heavens providence, Or how I know not, she so dotes on it, As I supposed she would a died for love. Has then my shadow and supposed death Brought that to pass my living substance could not? It hath, and never Lady more enamoured, Then now is Katharine of her Ferdinand. I told her, and no more than truth I told, A cunning Carver had cut out thy shape And whole proportion in white Alabaster, Which I intended here should be set up. She earnestly entreated she might have A sight of it, and daily be permitted To deck thy tomb and statue with sweet flowers. she's but even now departed to that end, And will (I know) be quickly here again. Now for assurance I dissemble not, Instead of thy resemblance cut in stone, Kneel here thyself, and hear her piteous moan.
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)
His, whilſt he liu'd, that of the worlds increaſe, Was the moſt loyall friend, and valiant Knight: Which thou muſt likewiſe ratifie with me, And hang thy ſhield vp to adorne his Hearſe, Or venture Combate for denying it. His name, I pray thee. Ferdinand. What's he acquainted with my name? belike ſome one Lou'd Pembroke, and ſuppoſing (wrongfully) Me ſlaine by him, to ſatiſfie for that, Obſerues this honor in my memory: Be not thou Ferdinand ingratefull then, But ſtand for Pembroke, as this knight for thee. What anſwere giueſt thou? ſhal I homage haue? Not for his ſake thou nam'ſt, not for Ferdinand: There liu'd a knight exceld his petty fame, As farre as coſtly Pearle the courſeſt Pebble: An Engliſh knight cald Pembroke, were his bones Interred heere, I would confeſſe of him Much more then thou requir'ſt, and be content To hang both ſhield and ſword vpon his Hearſe. How comes this ſtranger by my name? Belike He was affected vnto Ferdinand: And for his ſake (hearing he did me wrong) Couets to make amends, or meanes to prooue If I imbrace him with vnfayned loue. He ſhall not doubt of that, once more I ſay, 'Twas Ferdinand was the renowned Knight Of all the world. But I deny that ſaying, Giuing to Pembroke that preeminence. For Ferdinand my valour will I try. In Pembrooks valour I will fight and die. Eyther I dreame, or this is Ferdinand. My ſight deludes me, or ſtout Pembroke lyues. Thrice happy honord, I do imbrace my friend. Welcome, oh welcome Pembrok, to myne armes, Whom I imagined, death had tane from me. The like did I by Princely Ferdinand: But that he liues, my ſoule confounds with ioy. Tell me, deare friend, ſince our vnlucky fight, Haue you heard ought of my diſdainfull Loue? Of her and all the reſt: Her father liues: This is his ſhield, and this is great Nauars: This Rodoricks, the Duke of Orleance, And this malicious Burbons: all the which I forc't from them, to beautifie thy ſhrine. But tis of Katharine thou deſir'ſt to heare: She likewiſe hath bin here; her flinty heart, So much before inclind to cruelty, Now waxeth tender: ſhe no ſooner ſaw Thy picture here; but by heauens prouidence, Or how I know not, ſhe ſo doats on it, As I ſuppoſde ſhe would a dyed for loue. Has then my ſhaddow and ſuppoſed death Brought that to paſſe my liuing ſubſtance could not? It hath, and neuer Lady more enamour'd, Then now is Katharine of her Ferdinand. I told her, and no more then truth I told, A cunning Caruer had cut out thy ſhape And whole proportion in white Alablaſter, Which I intended here ſhould be ſet vp. She earneſtly entreated ſhe might haue A ſight of it, and dayly be permitted To deck thy tombe and ſtatue with ſweet flowers. Shee's but euen now departed to that end, And will (I know) be quickly here agayne. Now for aſſurance I diſſemble not, Inſtead of thy reſemblance cut in ſtone, Kneele here thy ſelfe, and heare her pitious mone.