The Misfortunes of Arthur (Certain Devices and Shows Presented to Her Majesty) · chunk 23 of 35
Hughes, Thomas / Fulbecke, William · published 1587 · first performed or written 1588 [Feb 28] (Annals) tragedy · before the Court T25 Kings, power and law: political sententi typicality 0.88 · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
Lo here the end, that Kingly pomp imparts, The quiet rest, that Princely palace plights. Care upon care, and every day a new Fresh rising tempest tires the tossed minds. Who strives to stand in pomp of Princely port, On giddy top and culm of slippery Court, Finds oft a heavy Fate, whiles too much known To all, he falls unknown unto himself. Let who so else that list, affect the name, But let me seem a Potentate to none: My slender bark shall creep anent the shore, And shun the winds, that sweep the waltering waves. Proud Fortune overhips the safest Roads, And seeks amidst the surging Seas those Keels, Whose lofty tops and tacklings touch the Clouds. O base, yet happy Boors! O gifts of Gods Scant yet perceived: when powdered Ermine robes With secret sighs mistrusting their extremes, In baleful breast forecast their faltering Fates, And stir, and strive, and storm, and all in vain: Behold, the Peasant poor with tattered coat, Whose eyes a meaner Fortune feeds with sleep, How safe and sound the careless Snudge doth snore. Low roofed lurks the house of slender hap, Costless, not gay without, scant clean within: Yet safe: and oftener shrouds the hoary hairs, Then haughty Turrets reared with curious art, To harbour heads that wield the golden Crest. With endless cark in glorious Courts and Towns, The troubled hopes and trembling fears do dwell. LORD Conan, though I know how hard a thing It is, for minds trained up in Princely Thrones, To hear of aught against their humour's course: Yet: sithence who forbiddeth not offence, If well he may, is cause of such offence: I could have wished (and blame me not my Lord) Your place and countenance both with Son and Sire, Had more prevailed on either side, then thus T'have left a Crown in danger for a Crown Through civil wars, our Countries wonted woe. Whereby the Kingdom's wound still festering deep, Sucks up the mischief's humour to the heart. The staggering state of Britain troubled brains, Head-sick, and sore encumbered in her Crown, With giddy steps runs on a headlong race. Whereto this tempest tends, or where this storm Will break, who knows? But Gods avert the worst. Now surely (Gildas) as my duty stood, Indifferent for the best to Son and Sire: So (I protest) since these occasions grew, That in the depth of my desire to please, I more esteem what honest faith required In matters meet for their estates and place: Than how to feed each fond affection prone To bad effects, whence their disgrace mought grow. And as for Mordred'S desperate and disloyal plots, They had been none, or fewer at the least, Had I prevailed: which Arthur knows right well. But e'en as Counters go sometimes for one, Sometimes for thousands more, sometimes for none: So men in greatest countenance with their King, Can work by fit persuasion sometimes much: But sometimes less: and sometimes nought at all.
seed 43: T25 · seed 44: T6 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Lo here the end, that Kingly pompe imparts, The quiet rest, that Princely pallace plights. Care vpon care, and euery day a newe Fresh rysiyg tempest tires the tossed mindes. Who striues to stand in pompe of Princely port, On guiddy top and culme of slippery Court, Findes oft a heauy Fate, whiles too much knowne To all, he falles vnknowne vnto himselfe. Let who so else that list, affect the name, But let me seéme a Potentate to none: My slender barke shall ceeépe anenst the shoare, And shunne the windes, that sweépe the waltering waues. Prowde Fortune ouerhippes the saffest Roades, And seékes amidst the surging Seas those Keéles, Whose lofty tops and tacklings touch the Cloudes. O base, yet happy Boores! O giftes of Gods Scant yet perceau'd▪ when poudred Ermine roabes With secrete sighes mistrusting their extreames, In batlefull breast forecast their foultring Fates, And stirre, and striue, and storme, and all in vaine: Behold, the Peasant poore with tattered coate, Whose eyes a meaner Fortune feédes with sleépe, How safe and sound the carelesse Snudge doth snore. Low rooffed lurkes the house of slender hap, Costlesse, not gay without, scant cleane within: Yet safe: and oftner shroudes the hoary haires, Then haughty Turrets rearde with curious art, To harbour heads that wield the golden Crest. With endlesse carke in glorious Courts and Townes, The troubled hopes and trembling feares doe dwell. LORD Conan, though I know how hard a thing It is, for mindes trainde vp in Princely Thrones, To heare of ought against their humor's course: Yet: sithence who forbiddeth not offence, If well he may, is cause of such offence: I could haue wisht (and blame me not my Lord) Your place and countnance both with Sonne and Sire, Had more preuailde on either side, then thus T'haue left a Crowne in danger for a Crowne Through ciuill warres, our Countries woonted woe. Whereby the Kingdom's wound still festring deépe, Sucks vp the mischiefe's humor to the hart. The staggering state of Brytaines troubled braines, Headsicke, and sore incumbred in her Crowne, With guiddy steps runnes on a headlong race. Whereto this tempest tend's, or where this storme Will breake, who knowes? But Gods auert the worst. Now surely (Gildas) as my duety stood, Indifferent for the best to Sonne and Sire: So (I protest) since these occasions grewe, That in the depth of my desire to please, I more esteémde what honest faith requir'd In matters meéte for their estates and place: Than how to feéde each fond affection prone To bad effects, whence their disgrace mought growe. And as for Mordreds desperate and disloyall plots, They had beéne none, or fewer at the least, Had I preuail'd: which Arthur knowes right well. But eu'n as Counters goe sometimes for one, Sometimes for thousands more, sometimes for none: So men in greatest countnance with their King, Can worke by fit perswasion sometimes much: But sometimes lesse: and sometimes nought at all.