1 The Troublesome Reign of King John · chunk 25 of 29
Anonymous · published 1611 · first performed or written 1591 (Annals) history · Queen Elizabeth's Men unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 516 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
Then do thy charge, and charged be thy soul With wrongful persecution done this day. You rolling eyes, whose superficies yet I do behold with eyes that Nature lent: Send forth the terror of your movers frown, To wreak my wrong upon the murderers That rob me of your fair reflecting view: Let hell to them (as earth they wish to me) Be dark and direful guerdon for their guilt, And let the black tormentors of deep Tartary Upbraid them with this damned enterprise, Inflicting change of tortures on their souls. Delay not Hubert, my orisons are ended, Begin I pray thee, reave me of my sight: But to perform a tragedy indeed, Conclude the period with a mortal stab. Constance farewell, tormenter come away, Make my dispatch the Tyrants feasting day. I faint, I fear, my conscience bids desist: Faint did I say? fear was it that I named: My King commands, that warrant sets me free: But God forbids, and he commandeth Kings, That great Commander counterchecks my charge, He stays my hand, he maketh soft my heart. Go cursed tools, your office is exempt, Cheer thee young Lord, thou shalt not lose an eye, Though I should purchase it with loss of life. I'll to the King, and say his will is done, And of the languor tell him thou art dead, Go in with me, for Hubert was not borne To blind those lamps that Nature polished so. Hubert, if ever Arthur be in state, Look for amends of this received gift, I took my eyesight by thy courtesy, Thou lentest them me, I will not be ingrate. But now procrastination may offend The issue that thy kindness undertakes: Depart we Hubert to prevent the worst. Now warlike followers, resteth aught undone That may impeach us of fond oversight? The French have felt the temper of our swords, Cold terror keeps possession in their souls, Checking their over-daring arrogance For buckling with so great an overmatch, The arch proud titled Priest of Italy, That calls himself grand Vicar under God, Is busied now with trental obsequies, Mass and months mind, dirge and I know not what, To ease their souls in painful purgatory, That have miscarried in these bloody wars. Heard you not Lords when first his Holiness Had tidings of our small account of him, How with a taunt vaunting upon his toes, He urged a reason why the English Ass Disdained the blessed ordinance of Rome? The title (reverently might I infer) Became the Kings that erst have borne the load, The slavish weight of that controlling Priest: Who at his pleasure tempered them like wax To carry arms on danger of his curse, Banding their souls with warrants of his hand▪ I grieve to think how Kings in ages past (Simply devoted to the Sea of Rome) Have run into a thousand acts of shame. But now for confirmation of our State, Sith we have pruned the more than needful branch That did oppress the true well-growing stock, It resteth we throughout our Territories Be reproclaimed and invested King.
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)
Then do thy charge, and charged be thy ſoule With wrongfull perſecution done this day. You rowling eyes, whoſe ſuperficies yet I doe behold with eies that Nature lent: Send foorth the terror of your Moouers frowne, To wreake my wrong vpon the murtherers That rob me of your faire reflecting view: Let hell to them (as earth they wiſh to me) Be darke and direfull guerdon for their guilt, And let the blacke tormenters of deepe Tartary Vpbraide them with this damned enterpriſe, Inflicting change of tortures on their ſoules. Delay not Hubert, my oriſons are ended, Begin I pray thee, reaue me of my ſight: But to performe a tragedie indeede, Conclude the period with a mortall ſtab. Constance farewell, tormenter come away, Make my diſpatch the Tyrants feaſting day. I faint, I feare, my conſcience bids deſiſt: Faint did I ſay? feare was it that I named: My King commaunds, that warrant ſets me free: But God forbids, and he commaundeth Kings, That great Commaunder countercheckes my charge, He ſtayes my hand, he maketh ſoft my heart. Goe curſed tooles, your office is exempt, Cheere thee yong Lord, thou ſhalt not looſe an eie, Though I ſhould purchaſe it with loſſe of life. Ile to the King, and ſay his will is done, And of the langor tell him thou art dead, Goe in with me, for Hubert was not borne To blinde thoſe lampes that Nature polliſht ſo. Hubert, if euer Arthur be in ſtate, Looke for amends of this receiued gift, I tooke my eieſight by thy curteſie, Thou lentſt them me, I will not be ingrate. But now procraſtination may offend The iſſue that thy kindneſſe vndertakes: Depart we Hubert to preuent the worſt. Now warlike followers, reſteth aught vndone That may impeach vs of fond ouerſight? The French haue felt the temper of our ſwords, Cold terror keepes poſſeſſion in their ſoules, Checking their ouerdaring arrogance For buckling with ſo great an ouermatch, The arch prowd titled Prieſt of Italy, That calls himſelfe grand Vicar vnder God, Is buſied now with trentall obſequies, Maſſe and months mind, dirge and I know not what, To eaſe their ſoules in painefull purgatorie, That haue miſcarried in theſe bloody warres. Heard you not Lords when firſt his Holineſſe Had tidings of our ſmall account of him, How with a taunt vaunting vpon his toes, He vrgde a reaſon why the Engliſh Aſſe Diſdaind the bleſſed ordinance of Rome? The title (reuerently might I inferre) Became the Kings that earſt haue borne the load, The ſlauiſh weight of that controlling Prieſt: Who at his pleaſure temperd them like waxe To carrie armes on danger of his curſe, Banding their ſoules with warrants of his hand▪ I grieue to thinke how Kings in ages paſt (Simply deuoted to the Sea of Rome) Haue run into a thouſand acts of ſhame. But now for confirmation of our State, Sith we haue proind the more than needfull braunch That did oppreſſe the true well-growing ſtocke, It reſteth we throughout our Territories Be reproclaimed and inueſted King.