Dekker, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [c.1606-1607] (Annals) history; allegory · Prince Henry's Men unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 477 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
Hear me, You must not have a man, and if you kill With powder, air betrays you. Powder! no sir, my dag shall be my dagger: Good sweet Cousin mark but how smooth My paths are: look you sir. I have thought upon a course. Nay, nay, hear mine, You are my mark, suppose you are my mark, My level is thus low, but ere I rise, My hand's got up thus high: the dear being struck, The heard that stand about so frighted are, I shall have leave to scape, as does a pirate, Who having made a shot through one more strong, All in that ship run to make good the breach, Whilst th'other sails away. How like you this? As I like paper harness. Ha, well, pause then: This bow shall stand unbent, and not an arrow Be shot at her until we take our aim In S. jagoes' park; a rare, rare Altar! The fittest to sacrifice her blood upon: It shall be there: in S. jagoes' park: Ha coz! it shall be there: in the mean time, We may keep followers (nine or ten a piece) Without suspicion: numbers may work wonders; The storm being sudden too: for were the guard A hundred strong about her, look you sir, All of us well appointed— Case of dags To each man, see you? you shoot there, we here, Unless some spirits put the bullets by, there's no escape for her: say the dags fail, Then to our swords.— Come, there's no mettle in you. No mettle in me? would your wars were honest, I quickly would find Armour: what's the goad So sharp, that makes you wildly thus to run Upon your certain ruin? Goad? sharp poniards, Why should I spare her blood? She gave you yours. To ha' ta'en it had been tyranny, her own lips Confessed I struck her laws not hard: I ha' spent My youth, and means in serving her: what reap I? Wounds (discontents) what gives she me? good words (Sweet meats that rot the eater:) why, last day I did but beg of her the mastership Of Santa Cataryna, 'twas denied me. She keeps you to a better. I tush, that's not all: My bonds are yonder sealed; And she must fall. Well coz, i'll hence. When shall I see you? Ha. Soon: very soon: sooner than you expect, Let me but breath, and what I mean to do, I shall resolve you. Fare you well, adieu.— News; thundering news sweet Lady: Envy, Ambition, Theft sactilegious, and base treason, lay Their heads and hands together, at one pull To heave you from your throne: that mannish woman-divell, That lustful bloody Queen of Babylon, Hath (as we gather ripe intelligence) Rigged an A●…d fleet, which even now beats the waves, Boasting to make their wombs our City's graves.
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)
Heare me, You must not haue a man, and if you kill With powder, ayre betrayes you. Powder! no sir, my dagge shall be my dagger Good sweete Cozen marke but how smooth My pathes are: looke you sir. I haue thought vpon a course. Nay, nay, heare mine, You are my marke, suppose you are my marke, My leuell is thus lowe, but er'e I rise, My hand's got vp thus hie: the deere being strucke, The heard that stand about so frighted are, I shall haue leaue to scape, as does a pirate, Who hauing made a shot through one more strong, All in that ship runne to make good the breach, Whilst th'other sailes away. How like you this? As I like paper harnesse. Ha, well, pawse then: This bow shall stand vnbent, and not an arrow Be shot at her vntill we take our ayme In S. Iagoes parke; a rare, rare Altar! The fitt'st to sacrifize her bloud vpon: It shall be there: in S. Iagoes parke: Ha coz! it shall be there: in the meane time, We may keepe followers (nine or ten a peece) Without suspition: numbers may worke wonders; The storme being sudden too: for were the guard A hundred strong about her, looke you sir, All of vs well appoynted—Case of dags To each man, see you? you shoote there, we heere, Vnlesse some spirits put the bullets by, Ther's no escape for her: say the dags faile, Then to our swordes.—Come, ther's no mettle in you. No mettle in me? would your warres were honest, I quickly would finde Armour: what's the goade So sharpe, that makes you wildely thus to runne Vpon your certaine ruine? Goad? sharp ponyards, Why should I spare her bloud? She gaue you yours. To ha tan'e it had bin tyrany, her owne lips Confest I strucke her lawes not hard: I ha spent My youth, and meanes in seruing her: what reape I? Wounds (discontents) what giues she me? good words (Sweet meates that rotte the eater:) why, last day I did but begge of her the maistership Of Santa Cataryna, twas denied me. She keepes you to a better. I tush, thats not all: My bonds are yonder seald; And she must fall. Well coz, ile hence. When shall I see you? Hah. Soone: very soone: sooner than you expect, Let me but breath, and what I meane to doe, I shall resolue you. Fare you well, Ade.— Newes; thundring newes sweete Lady: Enuy, Ambition, Theft sactilegious, and base treason, lay Their heads and handes togither, at one pull To heaue you from your throne: that mannish woman-Diuell, That lustfull bloudie Queene of Babylon, Hath (as we gather ripe intelligence) Rigd an Ad fleete, which euen now beates the waues, Boasting to make their wombes our Cities graues.