Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1602 [1602-1603] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma typicality 0.79 · 530 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
What Trumpet? Look Menelaus. From Troy. What would you 'fore our Tent? Is this great Agamemnon's Tent, I pray you? Even this. May one that is a Herald, and a Prince, Do a fair message to his Kingly ears? With surety stronger than Achilles' arm, 'Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice Call Agamemnon Head and General. Fair leave, and large security. How may A stranger to those most Imperial looks, Know them from eyes of other Mortals? How? I: I ask, that I might waken reverence, And on the cheek be ready with a blush Modest as morning, when she coldly eyes The youthful Phoebus: Which is that God in office guiding men? Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon? This Trojan scorns us, or the men of Troy Are ceremonious Courtiers. Courtiers as free, as debonnaire; unarmed, As bending Angels: that's their Fame, in peace: But when they would seem Soldiers, they have galls, Good arms, strong joints, true swords, & Jove's accord, Nothing so full of heart. But peace Aeneas, Peace Trojan, lay thy finger on thy lips, The worthiness of praise distaines his worth: If that he praised himself, bring the praise forth. But what the repining enemy commends, That breath Fame blows, that praise sole pure transcends. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Aeneas? I Greeke, that is my name. What's your affair I pray you? Sir pardon, 'tis for Agamemnon's ears. He hears nought privately That comes from Troy. Nor I from Troy come not to whisper him, I bring a Trumpet to awake his ear, To set his sense on the attentive bent, And then to speak. Speak frankly as the wind. It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour; That thou shalt know Trojan he is awake, He tells thee so himself. Trumpet blow loud, Send thy Brass voice through all these lazy Tents, And every Greek of mettle, let him know, What Troy means fairly, shall be spoke aloud. We have great Agamemnon here in Troy, A Prince called Hector, Priam is his Father: Who in this dull and long-continewed Truce Is rusty grown. He bade me take a Trumpet, And to this purpose speak: Kings, Princes, Lords, If there be one amongst the fayr'st of Greece, That holds his Honour higher than his ease, That seeks his praise, more than he fears his peril, That knows his Valour, and knows not his fear, That loves his Mistress more than in confession, (With truant vows to her own lips he loves) And dare a vow her Beauty, and her Worth, In other arms than hers: to him this Challenge. Hector, in view of Trojans, and of Greeks, Shall make it good, or do his best to do it. He hath a Lady, wiser, fairer, truer, Then ever Greek did compass in his arms, And will to morrow with his Trumpet call, Midway between your Tents, and walls of Troy, To rouse a Grecian that is true in love. If any come, Hector shall honour him: If none, he'll say in Troy when he retires, The Grecian Dames are sunburnt, and not worth The splinter of a Lance: Even so much.
seed 43: T12 · seed 44: T11 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
What Trumpet? Looke Menelaus. From Troy. What would you 'fore our Tent? Is this great Agamemnons Tent, I pray you? Euen this. May one that is a Herald, and a Prince, Do a faire meſſage to his Kingly eares? With ſurety ſtronger then Achilles arme, 'Fore all the Greekiſh heads, which with one voyce Call Agamemnon Head and Generall. Faire leaue, and large ſecurity. How may A ſtranger to thoſe moſt Imperial lookes, Know them from eyes of other Mortals? How? I: I aske, that I might waken reuerence, And on the cheeke be ready with a bluſh Modeſt as morning, when ſhe coldly eyes The youthfull Phoebus: Which is that God in office guiding men? Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon? This Troyan ſcornes vs, or the men of Troy Are ceremonious Courtiers. Courtiers as free, as debonnaire; vnarm'd, As bending Angels: that's their Fame, in peace: But when they would ſeeme Souldiers, they haue galles, Good armes, ſtrong ioynts, true ſwords, & Ioues accord, Nothing ſo full of heart. But peace Aeneas, Peace Troyan, lay thy finger on thy lips, The worthineſſe of praiſe diſtaines his worth: If that he prais'd himſelfe, bring the praiſe forth. But what the repining enemy commends, That breath Fame blowes, that praiſe ſole pure tranſcēds. Sir, you of Troy, call you your ſelfe Aeneas? I Greeke, that is my name. What's your affayre I pray you? Sir pardon, 'tis for Agamemnons cares▪ He heares nought priuatly That comes from Troy. Nor I from Troy come not to whiſper him, I bring a Trumpet to awake his eare, To ſet his ſence on the attentiue bent, And then to ſpeake. Speake frankely as the winde. It is not Agamemnons ſleeping houre; That thou ſhalt know Troyan he is awake, He tels thee ſo himſelfe. Trumpet blow loud, Send thy Braſſe voyce through all theſe lazie Tents, And euery Greeke of mettle, let him know, What Troy meanes fairely, ſhall be ſpoke alowd. We haue great Agamemnon heere in Troy, A Prince calld Hector, Priam is his Father: Who in this dull and long-continew'd Truce Is ruſty growne. He bad me take a Trumpet, And to this purpoſe ſpeake: Kings, Princes, Lords, If there be one among'ſt the fayr'ſt of Greece, That holds his Honor higher then his eaſe, That ſeekes his praiſe, more then he feares his perill, That knowes his Valour, and knowes not his feare, That loues his Miſtris more then in confeſſion, (With truant vowes to her owne lips he loues) And dare a vow her Beauty, and her Worth, In other armes then hers: to him this Challenge. Hector, in view of Troyans, and of Greekes, Shall make it good, or do his beſt to do it. He hath a Lady, wiſer, fairer, truer, Then euer Greeke did compaſſe in his armes, And will to morrow with his Trumpet call, Midway betweene your Tents, and walles of Troy, To rowze a Grecian that is true in loue. If any come, Hector ſhal honour him: If none, hee'l ſay in Troy when he retyres, The Grecian Dames are ſun-burnt, and not worth The ſplinter of a Lance: Euen ſo much.