Gomersall, Robert · published 1633 · first performed or written 1628 [1622-1628] (Annals) tragedy T10 England and France: war, embassy and pea typicality 0.86 · 527 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
O I do fear your grief, that it does glance With a most undeserved disgrace at me; As if I were akin unto the fault Of my false brother: O repeat that thought, It is no great thing I request you to, But trust unto the faith that you have found. Would I betray, and follow you? d'ye think, I'd be so mad to buy my banishment? No man would be unprofitably false, Nor I for any profit: speak yourself If I have left you, when your Fortune did? Nay, than my love was greatest, when you least, I was your subject, when you were no Prince. Sanseverin, thy fear is too too fond, And like the people, the Authority, Who make an impious confusion Of an high birth, and of an higher crime: Who in a saucy thwarting to their Prince, Count him still worst, whom he has made the best, As if we gave him, with his honours, crimes, And made him vicious, when fortunate. No, let them spend their breath in idle talk, Count thee or treacherous, or cowardly; Whilst to thy Sforza thou art still the same, Most valiant, and with thy valour, wise, That by thy abstinence a while from war, Hast saved us forces for a victory. The Subject's life lies in the Prince's voice: Now you have cleared me I dare hasten war, And wish more enemies, than cowards fear: That you may see, by my neglect of blood, (Which I shall only love when shed for you) How slander was my most feared enemy. No more, my dearest friend: we lose all time Which we do save from fight; still there does flock New forces to our Army, and the French Are now as much amazed, as proud before: We lately took the Swissers into pay, Those that dare sell their lives to any cause, Whom Gold hath armed for me: if they proceed In their first heat, we win: but if they fail We cannot be more wretched than we were: The vilest chance of luck can make us know But an Addition to an Overthrow. NOw weare alone I dare reveal myself, I am not what I seem, a Fugitive, But one that from Triulcio do bring Letters that much concern you. What? to me? Letters unto his enemy? let's see: Expect an answer in my Tent.— What's here? THou Man of Action, whom th' Italians Feel their Achilles, both to wound & heal: Triulcio salutes thee: what is past, As past recall he will not mention, But for the future this; you aid a man, From whom you cannot any way expect Reward, or Honour, such his poverty Both in desert, and means; but against whom? I will not urge they are your Countrymen, Partakers of the same sweet soil with you, Who only differ in their better choice: Yet so far do I prise your worth, to think, You have not put off Nature, nor have changed With your home-ayre your home-affections, That you are still a Swisser: think of this, And that at other times 'twere shame to fly, Now only flight shows Magnanimity.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1700–1767 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 27 of 33 in this edition
Length
527 words · 685 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T10 — England and France: war, embassy and peacecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.862 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
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)
O I doe feare your griefe, that it does glance With a most undeserv'd disgrace at me; As if I were a-kinne unto the fault Of my false brother: O repeate that thought, It is no great thing I request you to, But trust unto the faith that you have found. Would I betray, and follow you? d'yee thinke, I'de be so mad to buy my banishment? No man would be unprofitably false, Nor I for any profit: speake your selfe If I have left you, when your Fortune did? Nay, then my love was greatest, when you least, I was your subject, when you were no Prince. Sanseverin, thy feare is too too fond, And like the people, the Authoritie, Who make an impious confusion Of an high birth, and of an higher crime: Who in a sawcy thwarting to their Prince, Count him still worst, whom he has made the best, As if we gave him, with his honors, crimes, And made him vicious, when fortunate. No, let them spend their breath in idle talke, Count thee or trecherous, or cowardly; Whilst to thy Sforza thou art still the same, Most valiant, and with thy valour, wise, That by thy abstinence a while from warre, Hast sav'd us forces for a victory. The Subjects life lies in the Princes voice: Now you have cleer'd me I dare hasten warre, And wish more enemies, then cowards feare: That you may see, by my neglect of blood, (Which I shall onely love when shed for you) How slaunder was my most fear'd enemy. No more, my dearest frend: we lose all time Which we do save from fight; still there does flocke New forces to our Army, and the French Are now as much amaz'd, as proud before: We lately tooke the Swizzers into pay, Those that dare sell their lives to any cause, Whom Gold hath arm'd for me: if they proceed In their first heat, we winne: but if they faile We cannot be more wretched then we were: The vilest chance of lucke can make us know But an Addition to an Overthrow. NOw w'are alone I dare reveale my selfe, I am not what I seeme, a Fugitive, But one that from Triulcio doe bring Letters that much concerne you. What? to me? Letters unto his enemy? let's see: Expect an answer in my Tent.—What's here? THou Man of Action, whom th' Italians Feele their Achilles, both to wound & heale: Triulcio salutes thee: what is past, As past recall he will not mention, But for the future this; you ayd a man, From whom you cannot any way expect Reward, or Honour, such his poverty Both in desert, and meanes; but against whom? I will not urge they are your Countrymen, Partakers of the same sweet soyle with you, Who onely differ in their better choice: Yet so farre doe I prize your worth, to thinke, You have not put off Nature, nor have chang'd With your home-ayre your home-affections, That you are still a Swizzer: thinke of this, And that at other times twere shame to flye, Now onely flight shewes Magnanimity.