Massinger, Philip · published 1632 · first performed or written 1621 [1621-1622; prologue, 1629/30(?)] (Annals) tragicomedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 530 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
harebrained fool! what reason Canst thou infer to make this good? A thousand Not to be contradicted. But consider Where your command lies? 'Tis not, Sir, in France, Spain, Germany, Portugal, but in Sicilie, An Island, Sir. Here are no mines of gold, Or silver to enrich you, no worm spins Silk in her womb to make distinction Between you, and a Peasant, in your habits. No fish lives near our shores, who's blood can die Scarlet, or purple; all that we possess With beasts, we have in common: Nature did Design us robe warriors, and to break through Our ring the sea, by which we are environed; And we by force must fetch in what is wanting, Or precious to us. Add to this, we are A populous nation, and increase so fast, That if we by our providence, are not sent Abroad in colonies, or fall by the sword, Not Sicilie (though now, it were more fruitful, Then when 'twas styled the granary of great Rome) Can yield our numerous fry bread, we must starve, Or eat up one another. The King hears With much attention. And seems moved with what Bertoldo hath delivered. May you live long, Sir, The King of peace, so you deny not us The glory of the war; let not our nerves Shrink up with sloth, nor for want of employment Make younger brothers thieves; 'tis their swords, Sir, Must sow and reap their harvest; if examples May move you more than arguments, look on England, The Empress of the European Isles, And unto whom alone ours yields precedence, When did she flourish so, as when she was The Mistress of the Ocean. Her navies Putting a girdle round about the world, When the Iberian quaked, her worthies named; And the fair flower Deluce grew pale, set by The red Rose and the white: let not our armour Hung up, or our unrigged Armada make us Ridiculous to the late poor snakes our neighbours Warmed in our bosoms, and to whom again We may be terrible: while we spend our hours Without variety, confined to drink, Dice, Cards, or whores. Rouse us, Sir, from the sleep Of idleness, and redeem our mortgaged honours. Your birth, and justly, claims my father's Kingdom; But his Heroic mind descends to me, I will confirm so much. In his looks he seems To break ope Janus' Temple. How these younglings Take fire from him! It works an alteration Upon the King. I can forbear no longer: War, war, my Sovereign. The King appears Resolved, and does prepare to speak. Think not Our counsel's built upon so weak a base, As to be overturned, or shaken with Tempestuous winds of words. As I, my Lord, Before resolved you, I will not engage My person in this quarrel; neither press My Subjects to maintain it: yet to show My rule is gentle, and that I have feeling Of your Master's sufferings, since these Gallants weary Of the happiness of peace, desire to taste The bitter sweets of war, we do consent That as Adventures, and volunteers (No way compelled by us) they may make trial Of their boasted valours.
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)
Hare-braind foole! what reason Canst thou inferre to make this good? A thousand Not to be contradicted. But consider VVhere your command lies? 'Tis not, Sir, in France, Spaine, Germany, Portugall, but in Sicilie, An Island, Sir. Here are no mines of gold, Or silver to enrich you, no worme spinnes Silke in her wombe to make distinction Betweene you, and a Peasant, in your habits. No fish liues neere our shores, who's blood can dy Scarlet, or purple; all that wee possesse VVith beasts, wee have in common: Nature did Designe us robe warriours, and to breake through Our ring the sea, by which we are inviron'd; And we by force must fetch in what is wanting, Or precious to us. Adde to this, wee are A populous nation, and increase so fast, That if we by our providence, are not sent Abroad in colonies, or fall by the sword, Not Sicilie (though now, it were more fruitfull, Then when 'twas stil'd the granary of great Rom ) Can yeeld our numerous frie bread, we must starve, Or eat vp one another. The King heares With much attenion. And seemes mou'd with what Bertoldo hath deliver'd. May you live long, Sir, The King of peace, so you deny not us The glory of the warre; let not our nerves Shrincke up with loth, nor for want of imployment Make younger brothers theves; 'tis their swordes, Sir, Must sow and repe their harvest; if examples May move you more then arguments, looke on England, The Empresse of the European Isles, And unto whom alone ours yeelds procedence, When did she flourish so, as when she was The Mistresse of the Ocean. Her navies Putting a girdle round about the world, When the Iberian quak'd, her worthies nam'd; And the faire flowre Deluc grew pale, set by The red Rose and the white: let not our armour Hung up, or our unrig'd Armada make us Ridiculous to the late poore snakes our neighbours VVarm'd in our bosomes, and to whom againe VVe may be terrible: while wee spend our houres Without variety, confinde to drinke, Dice, Cards, or whores. Rowze us, Sir, from the sleepe Of idlenesse, and redeeme our morgag'd honour. Your birth, and justly, claimes my fathers Kingdome; But his Heroique minde descends to mee, I will confirme so much. In his lookes he seemes To breake ope Ianu Temple. How these younglings Take fire from him! It works an alteration Vpon the King. I can forbeare no longer: Warre, warre, my Soveraigne. The King appeares Resolv'd, and dos prepare to speake. Thinke not Our counsel's built upon so weake a base, As to be overturn'd, or shaken with Tempestuous windes of words. As I, my Lord, Before resolv'd you, I will not ingage My person in this quarrell; neyther presse My Subjects to maintaine it: yet to shew My rule is gentle, and that I have feeling Of your Masters sufferings, since these Gallants weary Of the happinesse of peace, desire to taste The bitter sweets of warre, wee doe consent That as Adventures, and Voluntiers (No way compell'd by us) they may make tryall Of their boasted valours.