2 Henry the Sixth (The First Part of the Contention betwixt the Two Famous Houses of York and Lancaster) · chunk 27 of 49
Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher / Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written c.1590 (Annals) history · Pembroke's Men (?) T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.71 · 545 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
O thou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts; My thoughts, that labour to persuade my soul, Some violent hands were laid on Humfries life: If my suspect be false, forgive me God, For judgement only doth belong to thee: Feign would I go to chafe his paly lips, With twenty thousand kisses, and to drain Upon his face an Ocean of salt tears, To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk, And with my fingers feel his hand, unfeeling: But all in vain are these mean Obsequies, And to survey his dead and earthy Image: What were it but to make my sorrow greater? Come hither gracious Sovereign, view this body. That is to see how deep my grave is made, For with his soul fled all my worldly solace: For seeing him, I see my life in death. As surely as my soul intends to live With that dread King that took our state upon him, To free us from his Father's wrathful curse, I do believe that violent hands were laid Upon the life of this thrice-famed Duke. A dreadful Oath, sworn with a solemn tongue: What instance gives Lord Warwick for his vow. See how the blood is settled in his face. Oft have I seen a timely-parted Ghost, Of ashy semblance, meager, pale, and bloodless, Being all descended to the labouring heart, Who in the Conflict that it holds with death, Attracts the same for aydance 'gainst the enemy, Which with the heart there cools, and ne'er returneth, To blush and beautify the Cheek again. But see, his face is black, and full of blood: His eyeballs further out, than when he lived, Staring full ghastly, like a strangled man: His hair up reared, his nostrils stretched with struggling: His hands abroad displayed, as one that grasped And tugged for Life, and was by strength subdued. Look on the sheets his hair (you see) is sticking, His well proportioned Beard, made ruff and rugged, Like to the Summers Come by Tempest lodged: It cannot be but he was murdered here, The least of all these signs were probable. Why Warwick, who should do the D. to death? Myself and Beauford had him in protection, And we I hope sir, are no murderers. But both of you were vowed D. Humfries foes, And you (forsooth) had the good Duke to keep: 'tis like you would not feast him like a friend, And 'tis well seen, he found an enemy. Than you belike suspect these Noblemen, As guilty of Duke Humfries timeless death. Who finds the Heifer dead, and bleeding fresh, And sees fast-by, a Butcher with an Axe, But will suspect, 'twas he that made the slaughter? Who finds the Partridge in the Puttock's Nest, But may imagine how the Bird was dead, Although the Kite soar with vnbloudied Beak? Even so suspicious is this Tragedy. Are you the Butcher, Suffolk? where's your Knife? Is Beauford termed a Kite? where are his Talons? I wear no Knife, to slaughter sleeping men, But here's a vengeful Sword, rusted with ease, That shall be scoured in his rancorous heart, That slanders me with Murders Crimson Badge. Say, if thou darest, proud Lord of Warwickshire, That I am faulty in Duke Humfrey's death.
Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher / Shakespeare, William
Publication year (edition)
1623
First performance / composition (Annals)
c.1590
First performance (BritDrama)
1591 [1587-1592]
Company (BritDrama)
Pembroke's Men (?)
Genre (British Drama)
history
Play type
Adult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 224 · TCP A11954 · DEEP 5081.21
Edition role
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1637–1703 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 27 of 49 in this edition
Length
545 words · 748 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T0 — Court life: dukes, favour and honourcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.709 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
O thou that iudgeſt all things, ſtay my thoghts; My thoughts, that labour to perſwade my ſoule, Some violent hands were laid on Humfries life: If my ſuſpect be falſe, forgiue me God, For iudgement onely doth belong to thee: Faine would I go to chafe his palie lips, With twenty thouſand kiſſes, and to draine Vpon his face an Ocean of ſalt teares, To tell my loue vnto his dumbe deafe trunke, And with my fingers feele his hand, vnfeeling: But all in vaine are theſe meane Obſequies, And to ſuruey his dead and earthy Image: What were it but to make my ſorrow greater? Come hither gracious Soueraigne, view this body. That is to ſee how deepe my graue is made, For with his ſoule fled all my worldly ſolace: For ſeeing him, I ſee my life in death. As ſurely as my ſoule intends to liue With that dread King that tooke our ſtate vpon him, To free vs from his Fathers wrathfull curſe, I do beleeue that violent hands were laid Vpon the life of this thrice-famed Duke. A dreadfull Oath, ſworne with a ſolemn tongue: What inſtance giues Lord Warwicke for his vow. See how the blood is ſetled in his face. Oft haue I ſeene a timely-parted Ghoſt, Of aſhy ſemblance, meager, pale, and bloodleſſe, Being all deſcended to the labouring heart, Who in the Conflict that it holds with death, Attracts the ſame for aydance 'gainſt the enemy, Which with the heart there cooles, and ne're returneth, To bluſh and beautifie the Cheeke againe. But ſee, his face is blacke, and full of blood: His eye-balles further out, than when he liued, Staring full gaſtly, like a ſtrangled man: His hayre vp rear'd, his noſtrils ſtretcht with ſtrugling: His hands abroad diſplay'd, as one that graſpt And tugg'd for Life, and was by ſtrength ſubdude. Looke on the ſheets his haire (you ſee) is ſticking, His well proportion'd Beard, made ruffe and rugged, Like to the Summers Come by Tempeſt lodged: It cannot be but he was murdred heere, The leaſt of all theſe ſignes were probable. Why Warwicke, who ſhould do the D. to death? My ſelfe and Beauford had him in protection, And we I hope ſir, are no murtherers. But both of you were vowed D. Humfries foes, And you (forſooth) had the good Duke to keepe: Tis like you would not feaſt him like a friend, And 'tis well ſeene, he found an enemy. Than you belike ſuſpect theſe Noblemen, As guilty of Duke Humfries timeleſſe death. Who finds the Heyfer dead, and bleeding freſh, And ſees faſt-by, a Butcher with an Axe, But will ſuſpect, 'twas he that made the ſlaughter? Who finds the Partridge in the Puttocks Neſt, But may imagine how the Bird was dead, Although the Kyte ſoare with vnbloudied Beake? Euen ſo ſuſpitious is this Tragedie. Are you the Butcher, Suffolk? where's your Knife? Is Beauford tearm'd a Kyte? where are his Tallons? I weare no Knife, to ſlaughter ſleeping men, But here's a vengefull Sword, ruſted with eaſe, That ſhall be ſcowred in his rancorous heart, That ſlanders me with Murthers Crimſon Badge. Say, if thou dar'ſt, prowd Lord of Warwickſhire, That I am faultie in Duke Humfreyes death.