Chapman, George · published 1606 · first performed or written 1602 [Sep 18] (Annals) comedy · Children of the Chapel (second) T61 Sir Giles Goosecap and related knightly typicality 0.85 · 524 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T61: gyles, giles, lord, wood, captain, cutt, lady, ladies, emphatical, knights.
By France my Lord, I am not grieved a whit, Since Clarence hath her; he hath been in France, And therefore merits her if she were better. Then knights i'll knit your happy nuptial knots, I know the lady's minds better than you; Though my rare Niece hath chose for virtue only, Yet some more wise than some, they choose for both Virtue, and wealth. Nay uncle than I plead This goes with my choice, Some more wise than some, For only virtues choice is truest wisdom. Take wealth, & virtue both amongst you then, They love ye knights extremely, and Sir Cut: I give the chaste Hippolita to you, Sir Gyles this Lady; Nay stay there my Lord, I have not yet proved all his knightly parts I hear he is an excellent Poet too. That I forgot sweet Lady; good Sir Gyles Have you no sonnet of your pen about ye? Yes, that I have I hope my Lord my cozen. Why, this is passing fit. I'd be loath to go without paper about me against my mistress, hold my work again, a man knows not what need he shall have perhaps. Well remembered a mine honour Sir Gyles: Pray read my Lord, I made this sonnet of my mistress. Nay read thyself man. No in truth Sir Cut: I cannot read mine own hand. Well I will read it. Three things there be which thou shouldst only crave, Thou pomeroy, or thou apple of mine eye; Three things there be, which thou shouldst long to have, And for which three, each modest dame wood cry, Three things there be, that should thine anger suage, An English mastiff, and a fine french page. 'sblood Ass, there's but two things, thou sham'st thyself. Why Sir Cutt: that's Poeticalicentia, the verse wood have been too long, and I had put in the third, 'Slight you are no Poet I perceive. 'tis excellent servant. Keep it Lady then, And take the only knight of mortal men. Thank you good my Lord as much as though you had given me twenty shillings in truth, now I may take the married men's parts at football. All comforts crown you all; & you Captain For merry form sake let the willow crown; A wreath of willow bring us hither strait. Not for a world should that have been forgot Captain it is the fashion, take this crown. With all my heart my Lord, and thank ye too I will thank any man that gives me crowns. Now will we consecrate our ready supper To honoured Hymen as his nuptial rite, In form whereof first dance fair Lords and Ladies And after sing, so we will sing and dance, And to the skies our virtuous joys advance. Now to the song, and do this garland grace. Willow, willow, willow. our captain goes down: Willow, willow, willow, his valour doth crown. The rest with Rosemary we grace, O Hymen let thy lights With richest rays guild every face, and feast hearts with delights. Willow, willow, willow, we chant to the skies: And with black and yellows, give courtship the prize.
seed 43: T59 · seed 44: T53 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
By Fraunce my Lord, I am not grieu'd a whit, Since Clarence hath her; he hath bin in Fraunce, And therefore merits her if she were better. Thē knights ile knit your happie nuptial knots, I know the Ladies minds better then you; Tho my rare Neece hath chose for vertue onlie, Yet some more wise then some, they choose for both Vertue, and wealth. Nay then I plead This goes with my choyce, Some more wise then some, For onely vertues choise is truest wisedome. Take wealth, & vertue both amongst you then, They loue ye knights exreamely, and Sir : I giue the ch a st Hippolita to you▪ Sir Gyles this Ladie; Nay stay there my Lord, I haue not yet prou'd all his knightly parts I heare he is an excellent Poet too. That I forgot sweet Ladie; good Sir Gyles▪ Haue you no sonnet of your penne about ye? Yes, that I haue I hope my Lord my Cosen. Why, this is passing fit. Ide be oth to goe without paper about me against my mistris, hold my worke againe, a man knows not what neede he shall haue perhaps. VVell remembred a mine honour Sir Gyles: Pray read my Lorde, I made this sonnet of my mistris. Nay reade thy selfe man. No intruth Sir Cut: I cannot reade mine owne hande. VVell I will reade it. Three things there be which thou shouldst only craue, Thou Pomroy, or thou apple of mine eye; Three things there be, which thou shouldst longe to haue, And for which three, each modest dame wood , Three things there be, that shood thine anger swage, An English mastife, and a fine french page. Sblood , theres but two things, thou thy selfe. VVhy Sir Cutt: thats , the verse wood haue binne too long, and I had put in the third, S'light you are no Poet I perceiue. Tis excellent seruant. Keepe it Ladie then, And take the onely knight of mortall men. Thanke you good my Lord as much as tho you had giuen me twentie shillings in truth, now I may take the married mens parts at footeball. All comforts crowne you all; & you Captaine For merrie forme sake let the willowe crowne; A wreath of willow bring vs hither straite. Not for a world shood that haue bin forgot Captaine it is the fashion, take this crowne. VVith all my hart my Lord, and thanke ye too I will thanke any man that giues me crownes. Now will we conecrate our readie supper To honourd Hymen as his nuptiall rite, In forme whereof first daunce faire Lords and Ladies And after sing, so we will sing and daunce, And to the skies our vertuous ioyes aduance. Now to the song, and doe this garland grace. Willowe, willowe, willowe.▪ our captaine goes downe: Willowe, willowe, willowe, his vallor doth crowne. The rest with Rosemarie we grac, O Hyme let thy lights With richest rayes guild face, and feast harts with delights. Willowe, willowe, willow, we chaunt tothe skies: And with blacke and yellows, giue cortship the prize.