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 0.84 · 506 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T59: andrea, spain, portugal, tribute, horatio, king, bellimperia, prince, lord, lorenzo.
Thee and the traitorous Portugals to deprive me Of life and Crown, but I shall strike their King And them, and thee beneath into the earth. And lower than earth you cannot. Half your body is in the grave, it only lacks our hand To cast the dust upon you, yet you stand On slippery Ice yourself, and trip at us Whose foot is fixed on Rocks, but since thoust, thrown thyself down never look to rise. I care not, I will be little so in debt to you, that I will not owe you so much as God a mercy for my life. You shall not then, stand not to aim at marks Now rove not but make choice of one fair white thoust but one arrow to shoot, and that's thy flight The Admiral knows our pleasure. And Heaven knows mine Left in mine enemy's hand, are you my jailor? No my Lord, I think I'm rather left To be your Confessor. I need not any, That you and I should both meet at one Ball, I being the stronger, yet you give the fall. A kind of football slight, my Lord, men use Exceeding much at Court, yourself has heard Little shrimps have thrown men higher than the Guard; But barring this rough play, let's now consider, For what I stay, and what you are to do. Do what? To die. And must you play the Hangman. Break in fellows. 'Sdeath what are these? Your Executioners appointed by the King. These my Executioners, And you my overseer; wherefore kneel they? To beg your pardon, for they fear their work Will never please you. What book's that they hold This is no time for Dedications. That book is sent in Love to you from the King It contains pictures of strange sundry deaths He bids you choose the easiest. Then I choose this. Your choice is ill made. I'm more sorry Sir, I had rather have my body hacked with wounds, Then t'have a Hangman fillip me. My Lord pray pardon me I'm forced to what I do, 'tis the king's pleasure To have you die in private. anywhere Since I must down, the King might let me fall From lofty Pinnacles, to make my way Through an armed Field, yet for all that, even then Unless I slew a kingdom full of men I should at last be paid home: blackest fate Thy worst, I here defy thee, what the State Appoints 'tis welcome. That's to have your head. 'Tis ready. he'll be quiet when you are dead. Madam there's a fellow stays without to speak with you. With me! Your shoemaker I think. hast brought my shoes? Yes Madam. You drew them not on last. No Madam, my Master that served you last has very good custom, and deals with other Ladies as well as you, but I have fitted you before now, I should know the length of your foot. I do not remember thee. I'm sorry you have forgotten me.
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)
Thee and the trayterous Portugals to depriue me Of life and Crowne, but I shall strike their King And them, and thee beneath into the earth. And lower then earth you cannot. Halfe your body is in the graue, it only lackes our hand To cast the dust vpon you, yet you stand On slippery Ice your selfe, and trip at vs Whose foot is fixt on Rocks, but since th'ast, throwne Thy selfe downe neuer looke to rise. I care not, I will be little so in debt to you, that I will not owe you so much as God a mercy for my life. You shall not then, stand not to ayme at markes Now roue not but make choyse of one faire white Th'ast but one arrow to shoote, and that's thy flight The Admirall knowes our pleasure. And Heauen knowes mine Left in mine enemies hand, are you my Iaylor? No my Lord, I thinke I'me rather left To be your Confessor. I need not any, That you and I should both meet at one Ball, I being the stronger, yet you giue the fall. A kind of foot-ball slight, my Lord, men vse Exceeding much at Court, your selfe has heard Little shrimps haue thrown men higher then the Guard; But barring this rough play, let's now consider, For what I stay, and what you are to doe. Doe what? To die. And must you play the Hangman. Breake in fellowes. 'Sdeath what are these? Your Executioners appointed by the King. These my Executioners, And you my ouer-seer; wherefore kneele they? To beg your pardon, for they feare their worke Will neuer please you. What booke's that they hold This is no time for Dedications. That booke is sent in Loue to you from the King It containes pictures of strange sundry deaths He bids you choose the easiest. Then I chuse this. Your choyce is ill made. I'me more sorry Sir, I had rather haue my body hackt with wounds, Then t'haue a Hangman fillip me. My Lord pray pardon me I'me forct to what I doe, 'tis the Kings pleasure To haue you die in priuate. Any where Since I must downe, the King might let me fall From lofty Pinacles, to make my way Through an arm'd Feild, yet for all that, euen then Vnlesse I slew a kingdome full of men I should at last be pay'd home: blackest fate Thy worst, I heere defie thee, what the State Appoints 'tis welcome. That's to haue your head. 'Tis ready. Hee'l be quiet when you are dead. Madam there's a fellow stayes without to speake with you. With me! Your shoo-maker I thinke. Ha'st brought my shooes? Yes Madam. You drew them not on last. No Madam, my Master that seru'd you last has very good custome, and deales with other Ladies as well as you, but I haue fitted you before now, I should know the length of your foote. I doe not remember thee. I'me sorry you haue forgotten me.