2 Henry the Sixth (The First Part of the Contention betwixt the Two Famous Houses of York and Lancaster) · chunk 41 of 49
Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher / Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written c.1590 (Annals) history · Pembroke's Men (?) T18 Rebels, barons and the king's wars at ho typicality 0.82 · 489 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T18: king, lord, wallace, earl, edward, england, scotland, rebels, bruce, english.
God save the King, God save the King. What Buckingham and Clifford are ye so brave? And you base Peasants, do ye believe him, will you needs be hanged with your Pardons about your necks? Hath my sword therefore broke through London gates, that you should leave me at the White-heart in Southwark. I thought ye would never have given out these Arms till you had recovered your ancient Freedom. But you are all Recreants and Dastards, and delight to live in slavery to the Nobility. Let them break your backs with burdens, take your houses over your heads, ravish your Wives and Daughters before your faces. For me, I will make shift for one, and so Gods Curse light upon you all. we'll follow Cade, we'll follow Cade. Is Cade the son of Henry the fift, That thus you do exclaim you'll go with him. Will he conduct you through the heart of France, And make the meanest of you Earls and Dukes? Alas, he hath no home, no place to fly too: Nor knows he how to live, but by the spoil, Unless by robbing of your Friends, and us. Were't not a shame, that whilst you live at jar, The fearful French, whom you late vanquished Should make a start ore-seas, and vanquish you? Me thinks already in this civil broil, I see them Lording it in London streets, Crying Villiago unto all they meet. Better ten thousand base-born Cades miscarry, Than you should stoop unto a Frenchman's mercy. To France, to France, and get what you have lost: Spare England, for it is your Native Coast: Henry hath money, you are strong and manly: God on our side, doubt not of Victory. A Clifford, a Clifford. we'll follow the King, and Clifford. Was ever Feather so lightly blown too & fro, as this multitude? The name of Henry the fift, hales them to an hundred mischiefs, and makes them leave me desolate. I see them lay their heads together to surprise me. My sword make way for me, for here is no staying: in despite of the devils and hell, have through the very midst of you, and heavens and honour be witness, that no want of resolution in me, but only my Followers base and ignominious treasons, makes me betake me to my heels. What, is he fled? Go some and follow him, And he that brings his head unto the King, Shall have a thousand Crowns for his reward. Fellow me soldiers, we'll device a mean, To reconcile you all unto the King. Was ever King that joyed an earthly Throne, And could command no more content than I? No sooner was I crept out of my Cradle, But I was made a King, at nine months old. Was never Subject longed to be a King, As I do long and wish to be a Subject. Health and glad tidings to your Majesty.
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 2399–2436 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 41 of 49 in this edition
Length
489 words · 640 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T18 — Rebels, barons and the king's wars at homecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.818 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
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)
God ſaue the King, God ſaue the King. What Buckingham and Clifford are ye ſo braue? And you baſe Pezants, do ye beleeue him, will you needs be hang'd with your Pardons about your neckes? Hath my ſword therefore broke through London gates, that you ſhould leaue me at the White-heart in Southwarke. I thought ye would neuer haue giuen out theſe Armes til you had recouered your ancient Freedome. But you are all Recreants and Daſtards, and delight to liue in ſlauerie to the Nobility. Let them breake your backes with burthens, take your houſes ouer your heads, rauiſh your Wiues and Daughters before your faces. For me, I will make ſhift for one, and ſo Gods Curſſe light vppon you all. Wee'l follow Cade, Wee'l follow Cade. Is Cade the ſonne of Henry the fift, That thus you do exclaime you'l go with him. Will he conduct you through the heart of France, And make the meaneſt of you Earles and Dukes? Alas, he hath no home, no place to flye too: Nor knowes he how to liue, but by the ſpoile, Vnleſſe by robbing of your Friends, and vs. Wer't not a ſhame, that whilſt you liue at iarre, The fearfull French, whom you late vanquiſhed Should make a ſtart ore-ſeas, and vanquiſh you? Me thinkes alreadie in this ciuill broyle, I ſee them Lording it in London ſtreets, Crying Ʋilliago vnto all they meete. Better ten thouſand baſe-borne Cades miſcarry, Then you ſhould ſtoope vnto a Frenchmans mercy. To France, to France, and get what you haue loſt: Spare England, for it is your Natiue Coaſt: Henry hath mony, you are ſtrong and manly: God on our ſide, doubt not of Victorie. A Clifford, a Clifford. Wee'l follow the King, and Clifford. Was euer Feather ſo lightly blowne too & fro, as this multitude? The name of Henry the fift, hales them to an hundred miſchiefes, and makes them leaue mee deſolate. I ſee them lay their heades together to ſurprize me. My ſword make way for me, for heere is no ſtaying: in deſpight of the diuels and hell, haue through the verie middeſt of you, and heauens and honor be witneſſe, that no want of reſolution in mee, but onely my Followers baſe and ignominious treaſons, makes me betake mee to my heles. What, is he fled? Go ſome and follow him, And he that brings his head vnto the King, Shall haue a thouſand Crownes for his reward. Follow me ſouldiers, wee'l deuiſe a meane, To reconcile you all vnto the King. Was euer King that ioy'd an earthly Throne, And could command no more content then I? No ſooner was I crept out of my Cradle, But I was made a King, at nine months olde. Was neuer Subiect long'd to be a King, As I do long and wiſh to be a Subiect. Health and glad tydings to your Maieſty.