Drue, Thomas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1624 [licensed for stage, Jan 2] (Annals) history · Prince Palatine's (Palsgrave's) Men unassigned nearest T57 Ships, merchants and pirates · 497 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T57: ship, sea, master, sail, home, money, pisaro, life, ships, till.
Farewell, pull down thy stubborness of spirit: There breathes no servant of more honesty: willit please your kindness, keeper, usher me, To teach my steps to usher misery. Now Thomas? What will you do now, Thomas? Your Mistres has discharged you, and your coate, Tho Which was as dear to you, as your skin, Thomas, It is pulled over your ears, what remedy: Has Fox ne'er a hole to hide's head in these extremities Now I remember my Cozen Raynauld liues not far he To him I'll make repair, and feed on country poultry For a while, till I can cry Vindicta on this Duchess. Well what I'll do my thoughts not yet approve, Fox will prove true to trust, not false to love, Ienkin where art thou, hark what a kennel of hounds Giues vs our welcome into kent, set vp, com & to th Stamp the frost out of thy feet into the mortar for me, I'll catch me a heat or I'll bear it out att'h stones. A good fire would do better with the fingers ends. But a pot of Ale and a toast would do best of all With a cold stomach, over go to the Cock And see if he came a'th' kind, if his ale will Make a man crow, we'll leave our implements here They will not run away, and here's no great crowd Of People i'th' town, but if they be stolen, we may find 'em Come jenken, nimbly and stay by't. Whither now wilt thou dispose thyself From the enraged pursuit of this search That with their fresh breathings have oft tired thee, After so many hazards, whence my care Has sweat in water to redeem my fear, Must I at last be forced to yield and die Oh grief, but who can slip his destiny They come and I am tired, thanks heaven I have found a means I hope to shelter me in these extremes. Follow, pursue with swiftness and he's ours, Soft here's a Tiler, we'll inquire of him Which way he took, sirrah you Tiler ho Durtdauber with a vengeance answer me, leave singing of your neck verse, Rogue your best Lest it prove so indeed, you'll answerer' Tiler ho. Say you sir, say you. Say you goodman rascal? Saw you not a man pass this way With a speedy course but now. He crossed down that way. How the devil did we miss him? tired I hold my life, and tayne some barn, Or privy shed; come let's back, search every nook, Ransack the bushes, in each corner look. How strong my spirit is to call them back, Armed with the steeled proof of innocence, That can rebate the edge of tyranny, Invulnerable innocence she would go, But yet this flesh is frail and full of fears, To keep the soul from yond Celestial spheres, Thy will be done my maker, whose great hand Hath now my life from scorching malice fanned.
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)
Farwell, pull downe thy stubbornesse of There breahes no servant of more honesty▪ Wilt please your kindnesse, keeper, vsher me, To teach my steps to vsher misery. Now Thomas? What vvill you doe now, Thomas? Your Mistres has discharged you, and your coate, Tho Which was as deere to you, as your skin, Thomas, It is puld over your eares, what remedy: Has Fox nere a hole to hide's head in these extremities Now I remember my Cozen Raynauld liues not far he To him Ile make repayre, and feede on countrey poultr For a while, till I can cry Vindictaon this Dutches. Well vvhat Ile doe my thoughts not yet aprooue, Fox will prooue true to trust, not false to loue, Ienkin vvhere art thou, harke what a kenell of Giues vs our welcome into kent, set vp, com & to th Stampe the frost out of thy feete into the morter for me, Ile catch me a heate or Ile beare it out at'h stones. A good fire would doe better with the fingers ends. But a pot of Ale and a tost would doe best of all With a cold stomack, over goe to the Cocke And see if he came a'th kind, if his ale will Make a man crow, weele leaue our implements heere They will not runne away, and heeres no great croud Of People ith towne, but if they be stolne, we may find 'em Come Ienken, nimbly and stay by't. Whither now wilt thou dispose thy selfe From the enraged pursuite of this search That with their fresh breathings haue oft tired thee, After so many hazards, whence my care Has sweat in water to redeeme my feare, Must I a last be forc' to yeild and die Oh griefe, but who can slip his destenie They come and I am tired, Thanks heaven I haue found a meanes I hope to shelter me in these extreames. Follow, pursue with swiftnesse and hees ours, Soft heeres a Tiler, weele enquire of him Which way he tooke, sirra you Tiler ho Durtdauber with a vengeance answere me, eaue singing of your necke verse, Rogue your best Lest it prooue so indeed, youle answerer' Tiler hoe. Say you sir, say you. Say you goodman rascall? Saw you not a man passe this way With a speedy course but now. He crost downe that way. How the devill did we misse him? Tir'd I hold my life, and tayne some barne, Or privy shead; come lets backe, search every nooke, Ransacke the bushes, in each corner looke. How strong my spirit is to call them backe, Arm'd with the steeled proofe of inocence, That can rebate the edge of tyrany, Invulnerable innocence she would goe, But yet this flesh is frayle and full of feares, To keepe the soule from yon Celestiall spheares, Thy will be done my maker, whose great hand Hath now my life from scortching malice fann'd.