Heywood, Thomas · published 1615 · first performed or written 1594 (Annals) romance · Worcester's Men · Red Bull unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 512 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
Departed on a sudden ere we know, To whom our freedoms, and our lives we owe! By that inscription graven on his shield, We may perhaps descry him in the camp Cease admiration then; let these events, Hasten our steps back to survey our Tents. Godfrey! Tancred! Well met my Lords in these unpeopled paths: What hath your love made you to leave the field. Godfrey ne'er dreamed to have met with Tancred her The Lady that hath fled from our chaste love, (Whom Tancred I do more affectionate, Because she much resembles my fair sister) Hath caused me so much to forget myself, And play the wanderer in these unknown woods. But soft, that drum should speak the Pagans tongue: I fear we are betrayed, ay, ay, 'tis so: Tancred, we are round compassed by the foe. Thank me for this; for, next th'Almighty Powers, I have been the means to save your desperate lives. Now, Christian Princes, I am quit with you For all the grace you have done me in the Camp; And now you owe me for my banishment. And though you have exiled me from your Tents, You have not power to keep me from the wars. Upon this shield I bear the grocer's Arms, Unto which Trade I was enrolled and bound: And like a strange Knight, I will aid the Christians, Thou Trade which didst sustain my poverty, Didst helpless, help me; though I left thee then, Yet that the world shall see I am not ingrate, Or scorning that, which gave my fortune's breath, I will enlarge these Arms, and make their name The original and life of all my fame. But I am tired with travail, Shield lie there, Oh that I could but see that lusty spirit, My archfoe, rival in my banishment, To be revenged, and end my hostile hate! I'll dream I fight with him to ease my spleen, And in that thought I lay me on this Green. arms ye are full of hope and sweet success, The famous Art, whose honoured badge ye are, First, when I lived 'mongst London-prentices, Gave me an honest and a pleasant life, Now in these woods have won me fame & honour: And I have rescued Princes with this shield: And Princes are indebted to these Arms. And if I live, in memory of this Within their fair Hall shall this Scutcheon hang, Till some smooth pen Historify my name, What object's that? A Knight asleep or dead? Oh, 'tis the Basse, and ground of all my hate; I'll kill the villain: Oh dishonoured thought! Art thou not son unto the Bullen Duke, And canst thou hatch dishonour? Archfoe live. I scorn advantage, should I fight with Mars. He bears this shield I will exchange with his, And leave a Motto written in mine own Shall make him quake to read. Be swift my pen, T'affright his sense when he shall wake again. 'Tis done. Then go with me and mine stay here, Which in despite of thee, base Knight, I wear.
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)
Departed on a suddaine ere we know, To whom our freedomes, and our liues we owe! By that inscription grauen on his shield, We may perhaps descry him in the campe Cease admiration then; let these euents, Hasten our steps backe to suruey our Tents. Godfrey! Tancred! Well met my Lords in these vnpeopled paths: What hath your loue made you to leaue the field. Godfry ne're dreamt to haue met with Tancred her The Lady that hath fled from our chaste loue, (Whom Tancred I do more affectionate, Because she much resembles my faire sister) Hath caused me so much to forget my selfe, And play the wanderer in these vnknowne woods. But soft, that drumme should speake the Pagans tongue: I feare we are betrai'd, I, I, 'tis so: Tancred, we are round compast by the foe. Thanke me for this; for, next th'Almighty Powers, I haue bene the meanes to saue your desperate lius. Now, Christian Princes, I am quit with you For all the grace you haue done me in the Campe; And now you owe me for my banishment. And though you haue exil'd me from your Tents, You haue not power to keepe me from the warres. Vpon this shield I beare the Grocers Armes, Vnto which Trade I was enrold and bound: And like a strange Knight, I will aid the Christians, Thou Trade which didst sustaine my pouerty, Didst helpelesse, helpe me; though I left thee then, Yet that the world shall see I am not ingrate, Or scorning that, which gaue my fortunes breath, I will enlarge these Armes, and make their name The originall and life of all my fame. But I am tir'd with trauaile, Shield lie there, Oh that I could but see that lusty spirit, My arch-foe, riuall in my banishment, To be reueng'd, and end my hostile hate! I'le dreame I fight with him to ease my spleene, And in that thought I lay me on this Greene. Armes ye are full of hope and sweete successe, The famous Art, whose honoured badge ye are, First, when I liu'd 'mongst London-prentises, Gaue me an honest and a pleasant life, Now in these woods haue won me fame & honour: And I haue rescued Princes with this shield: And Princes are indebted to these Armes. And if I liue, in memory of this Within their faire Hall shall this Scutchion hang, Till some smoth pen Historifie my name, What obiect's that? A Knight a sleepe or dead? Oh, 'tis the Basse, and ground of all my hate; I'le kill the villaine: Oh dishonoured thought! Art thou not sonne vnto the Bullen Duke, And canst thou hatch dishonour? Arch-foe liue. I scorne aduantage, should I fight with Mars. He beares this shield I will exchange with his, And leaue a Motto written in mine owne Shall make him quake to reade. Be swift my pen, T'affright his sence when he shall wake againe. 'Tis done. Then go with me and mine stay here, Which in despight of thee, base Knight, I weare.