Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher / Shakespeare, William / Nashe, Thomas · published 1623 · first performed or written 1590 (Annals) history · Derby's (Strange's) Men T10 England and France: war, embassy and pea typicality 0.81 · 475 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
My Lord, my Lord, the French have gathered head, The Dolphin, with one Ioane de Pucelle joined, A holy Prophetess, new risen up, Is come with a great Power, to raise the Siege. Hear, hear, how dying Salisbury doth groan, It irks his heart he cannot be revenged. Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you. Pucelle or Pussel, Dolphin or Dogfish, Your hearts I'll stamp out with my Horse's heels, And make a Quagmire of your mingled brains. Convey me Salisbury into his Tent, And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare. Where is my strength, my valour, and my force? Our English Troops retire, I cannot stay them, A Woman clad in Armour chaseth them. Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout with thee: Devil, or Devil's Dam, I'll conjure thee: Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a Witch, And straightway give thy Soul to him thou servest. Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee. Heavens, can you suffer Hell so to prevail? My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage, And from my shoulders crack my Arms asunder, But I will chastise this highminded Strumpet. Talbot farewell, thy hour is not yet come, I must go victual Orleans forthwith: O're-take me if thou canst, I scorn thy strength. Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starued men, Help Salisbury to make his Testament, This Day is ours, as many more shall be. My thoughts are whirled like a Potter's Wheel, I know not where I am, nor what I do: A Witch by fear, not force, like Hannibal, Drives back our troops, and conquers as she lists: So Bees with smoke, and Doves with noisome stench, Are from their Hives and Houses driven away. They called us, for our fierceness, English Dogs, Now like to Whelps, we crying run away, Hark Countrymen, either renew the fight, Or tear the Lions out of England's Coat; Renounce your Soil, give Sheep in Lion's stead: Sheep run not half so treacherous from the Wolf, Or Horse or Oxen from the Leopard, As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves. It will not be, retire into your Trenches: You all consented unto Salisburies' death, For none would strike a stroke in his revenge. Pucelle is entered into Orleans, In spite of us, or aught that we could do. O would I were to dye with Salisbury, The shame hereof, will make me hide my head. Advance our waving Colours on the Walls, Rescued is Orleans from the English. Thus Ioane de Pucelle hath performed her word. Divinest Creature, Astrea's Daughter, How shall I honour thee for this success? Thy promises are like Adonis' Garden, That one day bloomed, and fruitful were the next. France, triumph in thy glorious Prophetess, Recovered is the Town of Orleans, More blessed hap did ne'er befall our State.
seed 43: T8 · seed 44: T8 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
My Lord, my Lord, the French haue gather'd head, The Dolphin, with one Ioane de Puzel ioyn'd, A holy Propheteſſe, new riſen vp, Is come with a great Power, to rayſe the Siege. Heare, heare, how dying Salisbury doth groane, It irke his heart he cannot be reueng'd. Frenchmen, Ile be a Salisbury to you. Puzel or Puſſel, Dolphin or Dog-fiſh, Your hearts Ile ſtampe out with my Horſes heeles, And make a Quagmire of your mingled braines. Conuey me Salisbury into his Tent, And then wee'le try what theſe daſtard Frenchmen dare. Where is my ſtrength, my valour, and my force? Our Engliſh Troupes retyre, I cannot ſtay them, A Woman clad in Armour chaſeth them. Here, here ſhee comes. Ile haue a bowt with thee: Deuill, or Deuils Dam, Ile coniure thee: Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a Witch, And ſtraightway giue thy Soule to him thou ſeru'ſt. Come, come, 'tis onely I that muſt diſgrace thee. Heauens, can you ſuffer Hell ſo to preuayle? My breſt Ile burſt with ſtraining of my courage, And from my ſhoulders crack my Armes aſunder, But I will chaſtiſe this high-minded Strumpet. Talbot farwell, thy houre is not yet come, I muſt goe Victuall Orleance forthwith: O're-take me if thou canſt, I ſcorne thy ſtrength. Goe, goe, cheare vp thy hungry-ſtarued men, Helpe Salisbury to make his Teſtament, This Day is ours, as many more ſhall be. My thoughts are whirled like a Potters Wheele, I know not where I am, nor what I doe: A Witch by feare, not force, like Hannibal, Driues back our troupes, and conquers as ſhe liſts: So Bees with ſmoake, and Doues with noyſome ſtench, Are from their Hyues and Houſes driuen away. They call'd vs, for our fierceneſſe, Engliſh Dogges, Now like to Whelpes, we crying runne away, Hearke Countreymen, eyther renew the fight, Or teare the Lyons out of Englands Coat; Renounce your Soyle, giue Sheepe in Lyons ſtead: Sheepe run not halfe ſo trecherous from the Wolfe, Or Horſe or Oxen from the Leopard, As you flye from your oft-ſubdued ſlaues. It will not be, retyre into your Trenches: You all conſented vnto Salisburies death, For none would ſtrike a ſtroake in his reuenge. Puzel is entred into Orleance, In ſpight of vs, or ought that we could doe. O would I were to dye with Salisbury, The ſhame hereof, will make me hide my head. Aduance our wauing Colours on the Walls, Reſcu'd is Orleance from the Engliſh. Thus Ioane de Puzel hath perform'd her word. Diuineſt Creature, Aſtrea's Daughter, How ſhall I honour thee for this ſucceſſe? Thy promiſes are like Adonis Garden, That one day bloom'd, and fruitfull were the next. France, triumph in thy glorious Propheteſſe, Recouer'd is the Towne of Orleance, More bleſſed hap did ne're befall our State.