Massinger, Philip · published 1624 · first performed or written 1623 [licensed for stage, Dec 3] (Annals) tragicomedy · Lady Elizabeth's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 546 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
Are you men? (For Age may qualify, though not excuse The backwardness of these) able Young men? Yet now your country's liberty's at the stake, Honour, and glorious triumph, made the garland For such as dare deserve them; a rich Feast Prepared by Victory of immortal viands, Not for base men, but such as with their Swords Dare force admittance, and will be her Guests, And can you coldly suffer such rewards To be proposed, to Labourers and Slaves? While you that are borne Noble (to whom these Valued at their best rate, are next to Horses, Or other Beasts of carriage) cry aim, Like idle lookers on, till their proud worth Make them become your masters? By my hopes, There's fire and spirit enough in this to make Thersites valiant. No; far, far be it from you, Let these of meaner quality contend, Who can endure most labour; Plough the earth, And think they are rewarded, when their sweat Brings home a fruitful Harvest to their Lords; Let them prove good Artificers, and serve you For use and ornament, but not presume To touch at what is Noble; if you think them Unworthy to taste of those Cates you feed on, Or wear such costly garments; will you grant them The privilege and prerogative of great minds, Which you were borne to? Honour, won in war And to be styled preservers of their Country Are Titles fit for free and generous Spirits, And not for Bondmen: had I been borne a man And such ne'er dying glories made the prize To bold Heroic Courage; By Diana, I would not to my Brother, nay my Father, Be bribed to part with the least piece of honour I should gain in this action. she's inspired, Or in her speaks the Genius of your Country To fire your blood in her defence. I am raped With the imagination! Noble maid, Timoleon is your Soldier, and will sweat Drops of his best blood, but he will bring home Triumphant conquest to you. Let me wear Your colours, Lady, and though youthful heats That look no further than your outward form, Are long since buried in me, while I live, I am a constant lover of your mind, That does transcend all precedents. 'Tis an honour: And so I do receive it. Plague upon it, She has got the start of us. I could e'en burst With envy at her fortune. A raw young thing, We have too much tongue sometimes, our Husbands say, And she outstrips us. I am for the journey. May all Diseases, sloth and lechery bring, Fall upon him that stays at home. Though old, I will be there in person. So will I. methinks I am not what I was; her words Have made me younger, by a score of years, Than I was when I came hither. I am still Old Cleon, fat, and unwieldy, I shall never Make a good Soldier, and therefore desire To be excused at home. 'tis my suit too. I am a grissell, and these Spider fingers, Will never hold a Sword. Let us alone To rule the Slaves at home, I can so yerk 'em, But in my Conscience, I shall never prove Good justice in the war.
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)
Are you men? (For Age may qualifie, though not excuse The backwardnesse of these) able Young men? Yet now your Countries libertie's at the stake, Honour, and glorious tryumph, made the garland For such as dare deserue them; a rich Feast Prepar'd by Victory of immortall vyands, Not for base men, but such as with their Swords Dare force admittance, and will be her Guests, And can you coldly suffer such rewards To be propos'd, to Labourers and Slaues? While you that are borne Noble (to whom these Valued at their best rate, are next to Horses, Or other Beasts of carriage) cry ayme, Like idle lookers on, till their proud worth Make them become your masters? By my hopes, There's fire and spirit enough in this to make Thersites valiant. No; farre, farre be it from you, Let these of meaner qualitie contend, Who can indure most labour; Plough the earth, And thinke they are rewarded, when their sweat Brings home a fruitfull Haruest to their Lords; Let them proue good Artificers, and serue you For vse and ornament, but not presume To touch at what is Noble; if you thinke them Vnworthy to taste of those Cates you feed on, Or weare such costly garments; will you grant them The priuiledge and prerogatiue of great mindes, Which you were borne to? Honour, wonne in warre And to be stiled preseruers of their Countrey Are Titles fit for free and generous Spirits, And not for Bond-men: had I beene borne a man And such ne're dying glories made the prize To bolde Heroicke Courage; By Diana, I would not to my Brother, nay my Father, Be brib'd to part with the least peece of honour I should gaine in this action. Shee's inspir'd, Or in her speakes the Genius of your Countrey To fire your blood in her defence. I am rap'd With the imagination! Noble mayde, Timoleon is your Souldier, and will sweat Drops of his best blood, but he will bring home Triumphant conquest to you. Let me weare Your colours, Lady, and though youthfull heates That looke no further then your outward forme, Are long since buryed in me, while I liue, I am a constant louer of your minde, That does transcend all presidents. 'Tis an honour: And so I doe receiue it. Plague vpon it, She has got the start of vs. I could e'ne burst With enuy at her fortune. A raw young thing, We haue too much tongue sometimes, our Husbands say, And she out-strips vs. I am for the journey. May all Diseases, sloath and lechery bring, Fall vpon him that stayes at home. Though olde, I will be there in person. So will I. Me thinkes I am not what I was; her wordes Haue made me younger, by a score of yeares, Then I was when I came hither. I am still Old Cleon, fat, and vnweldy, I shall neuer Make a good Souldier, and therefore desire To be excusde at home. Tis my suite too. I am a grissell, and these Spider fingers, Will neuer hold a Sword. Let vs alone To rule the Slaues at home, I can so yerke em, But in my Conscience, I shall neuer proue Good Iustice in the warre.