Dekker, Thomas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1611 [c.1611-c.1613; re-licensed for stage, Aug 21, 1623] (Annals) tragicomedy · Red Bull (Revels) Company (first) · Red Bull T59 Spanish courts: war, honour and courtshi typicality 0.87 · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T59: andrea, spain, portugal, tribute, horatio, king, bellimperia, prince, lord, lorenzo.
Keep it, lustful maiden! Hot Spanish vengeance follows thee, which flies Like three forked Lightning, whom it smites, he dies. Pacheco? My Lord. Is't so early! What a Clocke Is't? About the hour that Soldiers go to bed, and Catchpoles rise: Will your Lordship be trussed up this morning? How dost mean, go to hanging! Hanging! does your Lordship take me for a crackrope, No, but for a notable Gallows, too many Lordships are trussed up every day (boy) some would give a 1000. crowns to have 'em untied, but come sir tie up my Lordship. As fast as I can, Oh my Lord and a man could tie friends to him as fast as I do these points, 'twere a brave world. So he does, for these are fast now, and lose at night. Then they are like the love of a woman. Why boy! Do you know what the love of a woman is! No faith my Lord, nor you neither, nor any man else I think. Y'are a noble Villain. Would I were, then I should be rich. Well get you gone—— Here's a brave file of noble Portugals Have sworn to help me, it's hard trusting strangers, Nay more, to give them footing in a Land Is easy, hard to remove them; say they and I Should send my Brother King out of this world, And enthrone me (for that's the Star I reach at,) I must have Spain mine, more than Portugal, Say that the Dons and grandees were mine own, And that I had the Keys of the Court Gates Hang at my Girdle; in my hand the Crown, There's yet no lifting it up to my head Without the people: I must ride that Beast, And best sit fast: who walks not to his Throne Upon their heads and hands, goes but alone; This Dogfish must I catch then, the queen's Father! (Pedro Valasco) what if I got him! It's but a shallow old fellow, and to build On the great'st, wisest Statesman, in a design Of this high daring, is most dangerous; We see the tops of tall trees, not their heart; To find that sound or rotten, there's the Art. How now Iago? Good morrow to your Lordship, The King looks for you, You must come presently. Well Sir: must come! So: As I must come, so he ere long must go. And broad awake! As is that eye of Heaven. It spoke! not, did it? No; but with broad eyes, Glassy and fiery staired upon me thus, As black, as is a Soul new dipped in Hell; The tother was all white, a beard and hair Snowy like Portugal, and methought his look: But had no arms. No arms! No: just my height, Now, and ere this it was shot up so high, methought I heard the head knock at a Star, Clean through the ceiling.
seed 43: T61 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Keepe it, lustfull maiden! Hot Spanish vengeance followes thee, which flyes Like three forkt Lightning, whom it smites, he dyes. Pacheco? My Lord. Is't so earely! What a Clocke Is't? About the houre that Souldiers goe to bed, and Catchpoles rise: Will your Lordship be truss'd vp this morning? How dost meane, goe to hanging! Hanging! does your Lordship take me for a crack-rope, No, but for a notable Gallowes, too many Lordships are truss'd vp euery day (boy) some wud giue a 1000. Crownes to haue 'em vnty'd, but come sir tye vp my Lordship. As ast as I can, Oh my Lord and a man could tye friends to him as fast as I doe these points, 'twere a braue world. So he does, for these are fast now, and loose at night. Then they are like the loue of a woman. Why boy! Do you know what the loue of a woman is! No faith my Lord, nor you neither, nor any man else I thinke. Y'are a noble Villaine. Would I were, then I should be rich. Well get you gon—— Here's a braue fyle of noble Portugals Haue sworne to helpe me, its hard trusting strangers, Nay more, to giue them footing in a Land Is easie, hard to remoue them; say they and I Should send my Brother King out of this world, And inthrone me (for that's the Starre I reach at,) I must haue Spaine mine, more then Portugall, Say that the Dons and Grandies were mine owne, And that I had the Keyes of the Court Gates Hang at my Girdle; in my hand the Crowne, There's yet no lifting it vp to my head Without the people: I must ride that Beast, And best sit fast: who walkes not to his Throne Vpon their heads and hands, goes but alone; This Dogfish must I catch then, the Queenes Father! (Pedro Valasco) what if I got him! Its but a shallow old fellow, and to build On the great'st, wisest Statesman, in a dessigne Of this high daring, is most dangerous; We see the tops of tall trees, not their heart; To find that sound or rotten, there's the Art. How now Iago? Good morrow to your Lordship, The King lookes for you, You must come presently. Well Sir: must come! So: As I must come, so he ere long must goe. And broad awake! As is that eye of Heauen. It spake! not, did it? No; but with broad eyes, Glassie and fierie stair'd vpon me thus, As blacke, as is a Soule new dipt in Hell; The t'other was all white, a beard and haire Snowie like Portugall, and me thought his looke: But had no armes. No armes! No: just my height, Now, and e're this it was shot vp so high, Me thought I heard the head knocke at a Starre, Cleane through the Seeling.