2 The Troublesome Reign of King John · chunk 8 of 19
Anonymous · published 1611 · first performed or written 1591 (Annals) history · Queen Elizabeth's Men unassigned nearest T18 Rebels, barons and the king's wars at ho · 478 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T18: king, lord, wallace, earl, edward, england, scotland, rebels, bruce, english.
My Lord of Salisbury, I cannot couch My speeches with the needful words of art, As doth beseem in such a weighty work, But what my conscience and my duty will, I purpose to impart. For Chester's exile, blame his busy wit, That meddled where his duty quite forbade: For any private causes that you have, Me think they should not mount to such a height, As to depose a King in their revenge. For Arthur's death, K. Iohn was innocent, He desperate was the deathsman to himself, Which you, to make a colour to your crime, injustly do impute to his default, But where fell traitorism hath residence, There wants no words to set despite on work. I say 'tis shame, and worthy all reproof, To wrest such petty wrongs in terms of right, Against a King anointed by the Lord. Why Salisbury, admit the wrongs are true, Yet subjects may not take in hand revenge, And rob the heavens of their proper power, Where sitteth he to whom revenge belongs. And doth a Pope, a priest, a man of pride, Give charters for the lives of lawful kings? What can he bless, or who regards his curse, But such as give to man, and take from God? I speak it in the sight of God above, There's not a man that dies in your belief, But sells his soul perpetually to pain. Aid Lewis, leave God, kill Iohn, please hell, Make havoc of the welfare of your souls, For here I leave you in the sight of heaven, A troup of traitors, food for hellish fiends; If you desist, then follow me as friends, If not, then do your worst, as hateful traitors. For Lewis his right, alas 'tis too too lame, A senseless claim, if truth be titles friend. In brief, if this be cause of our resort, Our pilgrimage is to the devils shrine. I came not Lords, to troop as traitors do, Nor will I counsel in so bad a cause: Please you return, we go again as friends, If not, I to my King, and you where traitors please. A hot young man, and so my Lords proceed, I let him go, and better lost than found. What say you Lords, will all the rest proceed, Will you all with me swear upon the Altar, That you will to the death, be aid to Le. & enemy to Iohn? Every man lay his hand by mine, in witness of his heart's accord. Well then, every man to arms to meet the king, Who is already before London. What news Herald? The right Christian Prince my master, Lewis of France, is at hand, coming to visit your Honours, directed hither by the right honourable Richard Earl of Bigot, to confer with your honours. How near is his Highness? Ready to enter your presence.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T13 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
My Lord of Salisburie, I cannot couch My ſpeeches with the needfull words of arte, As doth beſeeme in ſuch a waightie worke, But what my conſcience and my duty will, I purpoſe to impart. For Chesters exile, blame his buſie wit, That medled where his duty quite forbade: For any priuate cauſes that you haue, Me thinke they ſhould not mount to ſuch a height, As to depoſe a King in their reuenge. For Arthurs death, K. Iohn was innocent, He deſperate was the deathſman to himſelfe, Which you, to make a colour to your crime, iniuſtly do impute to his defalt, But wher fel traitoriſme hath reſidēce, There wants no words to ſet deſpight on worke. I ſay tis ſhame, and worthy all reproofe, To wreſt ſuch petty wrongs in tearms of right, Againſt a King annointed by the Lord. Why Salsburie, admit the wrongs are true, Yet ſubiects may not take in hand reuenge, And rob the heauens of their proper power, Where ſitteth he to whom reuenge belongs. And doth a Pope, a prieſt, a man of pride, Giue charters for the liues of lawfull kings? What can he bleſſe, or who regards his curſe, But ſuch as giue to man, and take from God? I ſpeake it in the ſight of God aboue, There's not a man that dies in your beleefe, But ſels his ſoule perpetually to paine. Aid Lewis, leaue God, kill Iohn, pleaſe hell, Make hauocke of the welfare of your ſoules, For here I leaue you in the ſight of heauen, A troope of traytors, food for helliſh fiends; If you deſiſt, then follow me as friends, If not, then doe your worſt, as hatefull traytors. For Lewis his right, alaſſe tis too too lame, A ſenſleſſe claime, if truth be titles friend. In briefe, if this be cauſe of our reſort, Our pilgrimage is to the diuels ſhrine. I came not Lords, to troupe as traytors doe, Nor will I counſell in ſo bad a cauſe: Pleaſe you returne, we goe againe as friends, If not, I to my King, and you where traytors pleaſe. A hot yong man, and ſo my Lords proceed, I let him goe, and better loſt than found. What ſay you Lords, will all the reſt proceed, Will you all with me ſweare vpon the Altar, That you wil to the death, be aid to Le. & enemy to Iohn? Euery man lay his hand by mine, in witnes of his harts accord. Wel then, euery man to armes to meet the king, Who is already before London. What newes Herauld? The right Chriſtian Prince my maſter, Lewis of France, is at hand, comming to viſit your Honours, directed hither by the right honourable Richard Earle of Bigot, to conferre with your honours. How neere is his Highneſſe? Ready to enter your preſence.