Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1619 · first performed or written 1611 (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Globe unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 468 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
True, but I did not run. Right Bessus, I beat thee out on't. But came not I up when the day was gone, and redeemed all? Thou know'st, and so do I, thou mean'st to fly, and thy fear making thee mistake, thou ranst upon the enemy, and a hot charge thou gav'st, as I'll do thee right, thou art furious in running away, and I think we owe thy fear for our victory. If I were the King, and were sure thou wouldst mistake always, and run away upon the enemy, thou shouldst be General by this light. You'll never leave this till I fall foul. No more such words dear Bessus: for though I have ever known thee a coward, and therefore durst never strike thee; yet if thou proceed'st, I will allow thee valiant, and beat thee. Come, come, our King's a brave fellow. He is so Bessus, I wonder how thou com'st to know it: But if thou wert a man of understanding, I would tell thee he is vainglorious, and humble, and angry, and patient, and merry, and dull, and joyful, and sorrowful, in extremities in an hour: Do not think me thy friend for this, for if I cared who knew it, thou shouldst not hear it Bessus: here he is with the prey in his foot. Thy sadness takes away From my fall victory; am I become Of so small fame, that any man should grieve When I o'ercome him: They that placed me here, Intended it an honour large enough For the most valiant living; but to dare Oppose me single, though he lost the day, What should afflict you, you are free as I, To be my prisoner, is to be more free, Than you were formerly; and never think The man I held worthy to combat me, Shall be used servilely: Thy ransom is To take my only sister to thy wife; A heavy one Tigranes: for she is A Lady that the neighbour Princes send Blanks to fetch home: I have been too unkind To her Tigranes, she but nine year old, I left her, and near saw her since: your wars Have held me long, and taught me, though a youth, The way to victory: she was a pretty child Then, I was little better; but now fame Cries loudly on her, and my Messengers Make me believe she is a miracle; she'll make you shrink as I did, with a stroke But of her eye Tigranes. Is it the course of Iberia, to use their prisoners thus? Had Fortune thrown my name above Arbaces, I should not thus have talked: for in Armenia we hold it base; you should have kept your temper, Till you saw home again; where 'tis the fashion Perhaps to brag.
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)
True, but I did not runne. Right Beſſus, I beat thee out on't. But came not I vp when the day was gone, and redeem'd all? Thou knowſt, and ſo doe I, thou mean'ſt to flie, and thy feare making thee miſtake, thou ranſt vpon the enemie, and a hot charge thou gau'ſt, as Ile doe thee right, thou art ſurious in running away, and I thinke we owe thy feare for our victorie. If I were the King, and were ſure thou wouldſt miſtake alwayes, and runne away vppon the enemie, thou ſhouldſt be Generall by this light. Youle neuer leaue this till I fall foule. No more ſuch words deare Beſſus: for though I haue euer knowne thee a coward, and therefore durſt neuer ſtrike thee; yet if thou proceedſt, I will allow thee valiant, and beate thee. Come, come, our King's a braue fellow. He is ſo Beſſus, I wonder how thou com'ſt to know it: But if thou wert a man of vnderſtanding, I would tell thee he is vain-glorious, and humble, and angrie, and patient, and merrie, and dull, and ioyfull, and ſorrowfull, in extreamities in an houre: Doe not thinke mee thy friend for this, for if I car'd who knew it, thou ſhouldſt not heare it Beſſus: here hee is with the prey in his foote. Thy ſadneſſe takes away From my fall victorie; am I become Of ſo ſmall fame, that any man ſhould grieue When I oreceme him: They that plac't me here, Intended it an honour large enough For the moſt valiant liuing; but to dare Oppoſe me ſingle, though he loſt the day, VVhat ſhould afflict you, you are free as I, To be my priſoner, is to be more free, Then you were formerlie; and neuer thinke The man I held worthy to combat me, Shall be vſ'd ſeruilly: Thy ranſome is To take my onely ſiſter to thy wife; A heauy one Tigranes: for ſhee is A Ladie that the neighbour Princes ſend Blanks to fetch home: I haue beene too vnkind To her Tigranes, ſhee but nine yeere old, I left her, and nere ſaw her ſince: your warres Haue held m long, and taught me, though a youth, The way to victorie: ſhee was a pretty childe Then, I was little better; but now fame Cries loudly on her, and my Meſſengers Make me beleeue ſhee is a miracle; Sheele make you ſhrinke as I did, with a ſtroke But of her eye Tigranes. Is it the courſe of Iberia, to vſe their priſoners thus? Had Fortune throwne my name aboue Arbaces, I ſhould not thus haue talkt: for in Armenia vve hold it baſe; you ſhould haue kept your temper, Till you ſaw home agen; where tis the faſhion Perhaps to brag.