Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher / Shakespeare, William / Nashe, Thomas · published 1623 · first performed or written 1590 (Annals) history · Derby's (Strange's) Men unassigned nearest T46 Swords, quarrels and valour · 458 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T46: rapier, sword, fight, gentlemen, gentleman, kicked, kill, dagger, signor, valour.
Thou hast astonished me with thy high terms: Only this proof I'll of thy Valour make, In single Combat thou shalt buckle with me; And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true, Otherwise I renounce all confidence. I am prepared: here is my keen-edged Sword, Decked with fine Flower-de-luces' on each side, The which at Touraine, in S. Katherine's Churchyard, Out of a great deal of old Iron, I chose forth. Then come a God's name, I fear no woman. And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man. Stay, stay thy hands, thou art an Amazon, And fightest with the Sword of Deborah. Christ's Mother helps me, else I were too weak. Who e'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me: Impatiently I burn with thy desire, My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued. Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so, Let me thy servant, and not Sovereign be, 'Tis the French Dolphin sueth to thee thus. I must not yield to any rights of Love, For my Profession's sacred from above: When I have chased all thy Foes from hence, Then will I think upon a recompense. Mean time look gracious on thy prostrate Thrall. My Lord me thinks is very long in talk. Doubtless he shriues this woman to her smock, Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech. Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean? He may mean more than we poor men do know, These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues. My Lord, where are you? what device you on? Shall we give o'er Orleans, or no? Why no, I say: distrustful Recreants, Fight till the last gasp: I'll be your guard. What she says, I'll confirm: we'll fight it out. Assigned am I to be the English Scourge. This night the Siege assuredly I'll raise: Expect Saint Martin's Summer, haltions days, Since I have entered into these Wars. Glory is like a Circle in the Water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, Till by broad spreading, it disperse to naught. With Henry's death, the English Circle ends, Dispersed are the glories it included: Now am I like that proud insulting Ship, Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once. Was Mahomet inspired with a Dove? Thou with an Eagle art inspired then. Helen, the Mother of Great Constantine, Nor yet S. Philip's daughters were like thee. Bright Star of Venus, fall'n down on the Earth, How may I reverently worship thee enough? Leave off delays, and let us raise the Siege. Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours, Drive them from Orleans, and be immortalized. Presently we'll try: come, let's away about it, No Prophet will I trust, if she prove false.
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)
Thou haſt aſtoniſht me with thy high termes: Onely this proofe Ile of thy Valour make, In ſingle Combat thou ſhalt buckle with me; And if thou vanquiſheſt, thy words are true, Otherwiſe I renounce all confidence. I am prepar'd: here is my keene-edg'd Sword, Deckt with fine Flower-de-Luces on each ſide, The which at Touraine, in S. Katherines Church-yard, Out of a great deale of old Iron, I choſe forth. Then come a Gods name, I feare no woman. And while I liue, Ile ne're flye from a man. Stay, ſtay thy hands, thou art an Amazon, And fighteſt with the Sword of Debora. Chriſts Mother helpes me, elſe I were too weake. Who e're helps thee, 'tis thou that muſt help me: Impatiently I burne with thy deſire, My heart and hands thou haſt at once ſubdu'd. Excellent Puzel, if thy name be ſo, Let me thy ſeruant, and not Soueraigne be, 'Tis the French Dolphin ſueth to thee thus. I muſt not yeeld to any rights of Loue, For my Profeſſion's ſacred from aboue: When I haue chaſed all thy Foes from hence, Then will I thinke vpon a recompence. Meane time looke gracious on thy proſtrate Thrall. My Lord me thinkes is very long in talke. Doubtleſſe he ſhriues this woman to her ſmock, Elſe ne're could he ſo long protract his ſpeech. Shall wee diſturbe him, ſince hee keepes no meane? He may meane more then we poor men do know, Theſe women are ſhrewd tempters with their tongues. My Lord, where are you? what deuiſe you on? Shall we giue o're Orleance, or no? Why no, I ſay: diſtruſtfull Recreants, Fight till the laſt gaſpe: Ile be your guard. What ſhee ſayes, Ile confirme: wee'le fight it out. Aſſign'd am I to be the Engliſh Scourge. This night the Siege aſſuredly Ile rayſe: Expect Saint Martins Summer, Halcyons dayes, Since I haue entred into theſe Warres. Glory is like a Circle in the Water, Which neuer ceaſeth to enlarge it ſelfe, Till by broad ſpreading, it diſperſe to naught. With Henries death, the Engliſh Circle ends, Diſperſed are the glories it included: Now am I like that prowd inſulting Ship, Which Caeſar and his fortune bare at once. Was Mahomet inſpired with a Doue? Thou with an Eagle art inſpired then. Helen, the Mother of Great Conſtantine, Nor yet S. Philips daughters were like thee. Bright Starre of Venus, falne downe on the Earth, How may I reuerently worſhip thee enough? Leaue off delayes, and let vs rayſe the Siege. Woman, do what thou canſt to ſaue our honors, Driue them from Orleance, and be immortaliz'd. Preſently wee'le try: come, let's away about it, No Prophet will I truſt, if ſhee proue falſe.