Heywood, Thomas · published 1615 · first performed or written 1594 (Annals) romance · Worcester's Men · Red Bull unassigned nearest T40 Sin, guilt and violent loss within famil · 474 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
Well met, brave Saint, in these unpeopled paths, Fear no rude force, for I am civil borne, Descended from a Princely parentage, And though an exile from the Christians' Camp, Yet in my heart I wear the Cross of CHRIST, Even in as deep a crimson as the best. Love me, though I am Landless, and remote From the fair clime where first I breathed this air, Yet know I bear a Kingdom in this sword, And ere I die, look to behold this Front Impaled and circled with a royal Crown. I never marked this Gallant half so much: He hath my brother's eye, my father's brow, And he is Eustace all from top to to. I had a sister, Lady, with that red, That gives a crimson tincture to your cheek, With such a hand hid in a glove of snow, That spoke all music, like your heavenly tongue; And for her sake, fair Saint, I honour you. I had a brother, had not the rude seas Deprived me of him, with that manly look, That grace, that courage, I behold in you. A Prince, whom had the rude seas never seen, Even such another had young Eustace been. Eustace! even such an accent gave her tongue, So did my name sound in my sister's mouth, Oh Bella Franca, were't thou not obscured Within a cloud and mask of poverty, Such fame ere this had thy rare virtues won, Thus had thy beauty checked th' all-seeing Sun. It is my brother Eustace. View her well. Imagine her but thus attired, and she Would Bella Franca, and my sister be. But strip my brother from his Prentice coat, His cap, his common soldiers base disguise: Even such a Gallant as this seems to me, Such would my brother, my sweet Eustace be. Sister! Brother! Make me immortal then, by heaven I vow, I am richer than the Persian Sophy now. All Asia flows not with more plenteous treasure, Than I, to embrace my brother, my heart's pleasure. How did you scape the waves? How have you passed The perilous Land, and crossed the Seas so vast? Where are my brothers, Eustace? Oh, those words, Pierce to my heart like Darts, and pointed swords, Omit these passions, sister, they are dead. But to forget these griefs, what youth is this? Page to the Prince of France. 'Tis he I hate, As chief occasion of my banishment. Yet, my sweet brother, do not blame the youth, Full well he hath demeaned himself with me. He never, since we entered in these woods, Left me in my distress; when we alone Sit in these deserts never by rude force Did do me the least shame, or violence. A good cause why I lead so chaste a life, A jealous man may trust me with his wife.
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)
Well met, braue Saint, in these vnpeopled paths, Feare no rude force, for I am ciuill borne, Descended from a Princely parentage▪ And though an exile from the Christians Campe, Yet in my heart I weare the Croe of CHRIST, Euen in as deepe a crimson as the best. Loue me, though I am Landlesse, and remote From the faire clime where first I breath'd this aire, Yet know I beare a Kingdome in this sword, And ere I die, looke to behold this Front Empal'd and circled with a royall Crowne. I neuer markt this Gallant halfe so much: He hath my brothers eye, my fathers brow, And he is Eustace all from top to . I had a sister, Lady, with that red, That giues a crimson cture to your cheeke, With such a hand hid in a gloue of snow, That spake all musicke, like your heauenly tongue; And for her sake, faire Saint, I honour you. I had a brother, had not the rude seas Dpriu'd me of him, with that manly looke, That grace, that courage, I behold in you. A Prince, whom had the rude seas neuer seene, Euen such another had yong Eustace beene. Eustace! euen such an accent gaue her tongue, So did my name sound in my sisters mouth, Oh Bella Franca, were't thou not obscur'd Within a cloud and maske of pouerty, Such fame ere this had thy rare vertues wonne, Thus had thy beauty checkt th' all-seeing Sunne. It is my brother Eustace. View her well. Imagine her but thus attir'd, and shee Would Bella Franca, and my sister bee. But strip my brother from his Prentice cote, His cap, his common souldiers base disguise: Euen such a Gallant as this seemes to me, Such would my brother, my sweete Eustace be. Sister! Brother! Make me immortall then, by heauen I vow, I am richer then the Persian Sophy now. All Asia flowes not with more plenteous treasure, Then I, to embrace my brother, my hearts plure. How did you scape the waues? How haue you past The perillous Land, and crost the Seas so vaste? Where are my brothers, Eustace? Oh, those words, Pierce to my heart like Darts, and pointed swords, Omit these passions, sister, they are dead. But to forget these griefes, what youth is this? Page to the Prince of France. 'Tis he I hate, As chiefe occasion of my banishment. Yet, my sweete brother, do not blame the youth, Full well he hath demean'd himselfe with me. He neuer, since we entred in these woods, Left me in my distresse; when we alone Sit in these desarts neuer by rude force Did do me the least shame, or violence. A good cause why I leade so chaste ali fe, A iealous man may trust me with his wife.