Knevet, Ralph · published 1631 · first performed or written 1631 [May 3] (Annals) pastoral unassigned nearest T8 Captains, gallants and cheats · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T8: captain, master, money, gentleman, little, lieutenant, rogue, pray, minos, honest.
Nay good Poneria, I find myself unfitting for the wars. What neither heart nor brains; out inglorious losel, Thou most unwieldy burden of the earth: I could find in my heart to kick thy soul out Of thy carcase: art all composed of earth and water? Hast not a spark of air or fire in that bulk? Nay sweet Poneria, I am thy slave. I tell thee I will procure thee a captain's place. But I am altogether ignorant in the words of command, And know not one posture neither of Musket or Pike. Hast wit enough to swallow the dead pays, And to patch up thy Company in a muster day: Hast valour enough to wear a Buff-jerkin With three gold laces. Hast strength enough to support a Dutch feel With a flaunting Feather? Can thy side endure to be wedded to a rapier Hatched with gold, with hilt and hangers of the new fashion? Canst drink, drab, and dice: Canst damn thyself into debt among Believing Tradesmen; Hast manners enough to give thy Lieutenant, Ancient or Sergeant leave to go before thee Upon any piece of danger? Hast wit enough, in thy anger, not to draw a sword? These are the chief properties that pertain To our modern Captains; and if thou Couldst but be taught these military rudiments, I doubt not but thou mightst prove a very Excellent new soldier. If this be all, I hope, in time, to be as famous As e'er was Caesar, or great Pompey. Agnostus, come along, thyself prepare To be a servant to the god of war. THis strange imposture hath amazed me so, That I am almost to a statue struck, Not knowing what to speak, or what to think. Assure yourself it was a strange Collusion: For this, on my fidelity, believe, That 'twas not Iris whom you met last night. Then 'twas some hellish hag, that, in her shape, Gave me the venomous confection Which had undone me quite, if thou in time Hadst not applied thy precious antidote. But yet, methinks, that heaven should not permit The subtlest hellish power to counterfeit The feature of so beautiful an angel. Doubtless it was the false Poneria's plot, Whom Martagon hath lately entertained, With her companion; old Agnostus; For, know the malice of your foes is such, That if by open force they can't destroy you, By hidden plots they'll seek your overthrow. Then I must pardon crave of gentle Iris, To whom I did ascribe this treacherous fact. If she were guilty of so black a deed, These hands should chain her to a fatal stake, And sacrifice her Corpse in hideous flames, Unto the awful goddess of revenge; (Which done) I'd throw her hateful ashes up Against the furious gusts of boisterous winds, That being so dispersed, there might remain Not the least relic of so vile a wretch.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T14 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Nay good Poneria, I finde my selfe unfitting for the warres. What neither hart nor braines; out inglorious Iozel, Thou most unweldy burthen of the earth: I could finde in my heart to kicke thy soule out Of thy carkasse: art all compos'd of earth and water? Hast not a sparke of ayre or fire in that bulke? Nay sweet Poneria, I am thy slave. I tell thee I will procure thee a Captaines place. But I am altogether ignorant in the words of command, And know not one posture neither of Musket or Pike. Hast wit enough to swallow the dead payes, And to patch up thy Company in a Mustring day: Hast valour enough to weare a Buffe-jerken With three gold laces. Hast strength enough to support a Dutch felt With a flaunting Feather? Can thy side endure to be wedded to a Rapire Hatch'd with gold, with hilt and hangers of the new fashion? Canst drinke, drab, and dice: Canst damne thy selfe into debt among Beleeving Tradesmen; Hast manners enough to giue thy Lievetenant, Antient or Sergeant leave to goe before thee Vpon any peece of danger? Hast wit enough, in thy anger, not to draw a sword? These are the chiefe properties that pertaine To our moderne Captaines; and if thou Could'st but be taught these military rudiments, I doubt not but thou mightst prove a very Excellent new souldier. If this be all, I hope, in time, to be as famous As e're was Caesar, or great Pompey. Agnostus, come along, thy selfe prepare To be a servant to the god of warre. THis strange imposture hath amaz'd me so, That I am almost to a statue strucke, Not knowing what to speake, or what to thinke. Assure your selfe it was a strange Collusion: For this, on my fidelity, beleeve, That 'twas not Iris whom you met last night. Then 'twas some hellish hag, that, in her shape, Gave me the venemous confection Which had undone me quite, if thou in time Had'st not apply'd thy precious antidote. But yet, me thinkes, that heaven should not permit The subt'lest hellish power to counterfeit The feature of so beautifull an angell. Doubtlesse it was the false Ponerias plot, Whom Martagon hath lately entertaind, With her companion; old Agnostus; For, know the malice of your foes is such, That if by open force they can't destroy you, By hidden plots they'll seeke your overthrow. Then I must pardon crave of gentle Iris, To whom I did ascribe this treacherous fact. If she were guilty of so blacke a deed, These hands should chaine her to a fatall stake, And sacrifice her Corps in hideous flames, Vnto the awfull goddesse of revenge; (Which done) I'de throw her hatefull ashes up Against the furious gusts of boistrous winds, That being so disperst, there might remaine Not the least relique of so vile a wretch.