Anonymous · published 1570 · first performed or written 1568 [before 1569] (Annals) moral · Children of Paul's (first)(?) unassigned nearest T46 Swords, quarrels and valour · 474 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T46: rapier, sword, fight, gentlemen, gentleman, kicked, kill, dagger, signor, valour.
Who breaketh promise, will not stick likewise to break his oath. I will be bound in all that ever I can make. What good were that to us if we th'advantage take. Will neither promise serve: nor oath nor bands, What other assurance will ye ask at my hands. My master is a gentleman. I tell you and his word, I would you knew it shall with his deeds accord. We know not whom to trust, the world is so ill. In deed sir as you say you may mend when ye will, But in good earnest Madam, speak of or on, Shall we speed at your hand, or shall we begun, I love not this delays, say so if we shall have you, If not, say no, and let another crave you. Soft and fair sir boy, you talk you wots not what? Can you abide to be driven of with this and that, Can they ask any more than good assurance at your hands. All is now to little son, as the matter stands, If all be to little both goods and lands, I know not what will please you, except Darbyes bands I have an enemy, my friend wit a mortal foe to me, And therewithal the greatest plague that can befall to the. Must I fight with him, Can you fight if need be. If any such thing fall, count the charge to me, Trouble not yourself. Hold thy peace elf. Here out my tale, I have a mortal foe: That lurketh in the wood, hereby as you come and go, This monstrous Giant, bears a grudge to me and mine, And will attempt to keep thee back, from this desser of thine. The bane of youth, the root of ruin and destres: Devouring those that sue to me, his name is Tediousness. Not sooner he espies, the noble Wit begin: To stir and pain itself the love of me to win. But forth he steps and with strong hands by might and main: He beats and buffettes down, the force and liuelynes of brain. That done in deep despair, he drowns him villainously, Ten thousand suitors in a year, are cast away thereby. Now if your mind be surely fixed so, That for no toil nor cost, my love you will forego. Bethink you well, and of this monster take good heed, Then may you have with me, the greater hope to speed. Herein use good advise, to make you strong and stout, To sand and keep him of a while, until his rage be out. Then when you feel yourself, well able to prevail: Bid you the battle, and that so courageously assail. If you can win the field, present me with his head, I ask no more and I forth with, shall be your own to bed.
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)
Who breaketh promise, wil not sticke likewyse to breake his othe. I wyll be bound in all that euer I can make. What good were that to vs if we thaduantage take. Wyll neyther promyse serue: nor othe nor bandes, What other assuraunce wyll ye aske at my handes. My maister is a gentilman. I tell you and his word, I would you knewe it shall with his deedes accord. We know not whom to trust, the world is so ill. In dede sir as you say you may mend when ye wyll, But in good earnest Madam, speake of or on, Shal we speede at your hand, or shall we begone, I loue not this delayes, say so if we shall haue you, If not, say no, and let another raue you. Soft and fayre sir boye, you talke you wot not what? Can you abyde to be driuen of wyth this and that, Can they aske any more then good assuraunce at your hands. All is now to little sonne, as the matter standes, If al be to litle both goodes and landes, I know not what will please you, except Darbyes bandes I haue an enemy, my frend Witte a mortal fo to me And therwithall the greatest plague that can befall to the. Must I fyght wyth him, Can you fyght if néede be. If any such thing all, count the charge to me, Trouble not your selfe. Hould thy peace elfe. Here out my tale, I haue a mortall foe: That lurketh in the woode, hearby as you come and goe, This monstrous Giant, beares a grudge o me and mine, And wyll attempt to kepe thee backe, from this desser of thine. The bane of youth the roote of rufne and destres: Deuouring those that sue to me, his name is Tediousnes. No soner he espyes, the noble Witte beginne: To styr and payne it selfe the loue of me to winne. But forth he steppes and with strong hands by might and maine: He beates and buffettes downe, the force and liuelynes of braine. That done in déepe dispayre, he drownes him villanously, Ten thousand suters in a yere, are cast away therby. Now if your mind be surelye fixed soe, That for no toyle nor cost, my loue you will forgoe. Bethinke you well, and of this monster take good héede, Then may you haue with mée, the greater hope to speede. Herein vse good aduise, to make you strong and stout, To send and kepe him of a whyle, vntill his rage be out. Then when you feele your selfe, well able to preuayle: Byd you the battell, and that so coragiously assayle. If you can wyn the field, present me wyth his head, I aske no more and I forth with, shall be your owne to bedde.