2 Henry the Sixth (The First Part of the Contention betwixt the Two Famous Houses of York and Lancaster) · chunk 46 of 49
Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher / Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written c.1590 (Annals) history · Pembroke's Men (?) unassigned nearest T59 Spanish courts: war, honour and courtshi · 445 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T59: andrea, spain, portugal, tribute, horatio, king, bellimperia, prince, lord, lorenzo.
O monstrous Traitor! I arrest thee York Of Capital Treason 'gainst the King and Crown: Obey audacious Traitor, kneel for Grace. Wouldst have me kneel? First let me ask of thee, If they can brook I bow a knee to man: Sirrah, call in my son to be my bale: I know ere they will have me go to Ward, They'll pawn their swords of my enfranchisement. Call hither Clifford, bid him come amain, To say, if that the Bastard boys of York Shall be the Surety for their Traitor Father. O blood-bespotted Neapolitan, Out-cast of Naples, England's bloody Scourge, The sons of York, thy betters in their birth, Shall be their Father's bail, and bane to those That for my Surety will refuse the Boys. See where they come, I'll warrant they'll make it good. And here comes Clifford to deny their bail. Health, and all happiness to my Lord the King. I thank thee Clifford: Say, what news with thee? Nay, do not fright us with an angry look: We are thy Sovereign Clifford, kneel again; For thy mistaking so, We pardon thee. This is my King York, I do not mistake, But thou mistakes me much to think I do, To Bedlam with him, is the man grown mad. I Clifford, a Bedlam and ambitious humour Makes him oppose himself against his King. He is a Traitor, let him to the Tower, And chop away that factious pate of his. He is atrested, but will not obey: His sons (he says) shall give their words for him. Will you not Sons? I Noble Father, if our words will serve. And if words will not, than our Weapons shall. Why what a brood of Traitors have we here? Look in a Glass, and call thy Image so. I am thy King, and thou a false-heart Traitor: Call hither to the stake my two brave Bears, That with the very shaking of their Chains, They may astonish these fell-lurking Curs, Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me. Are these thy Bears? we'll bate thy Bears to death, And manacle the Berard in their Chains, If thou darest bring them to the baiting place. Oft have I seen a hot ore-weening Cur, Run back and bite, because he was withheld, Who being suffered with the Bears fell paw, Hath clapped his tail, between his legs and cried, And such a piece of service will you do, If you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick. Hence heap of wrath, foul indigested lump, As crooked in thy manners, as thy shape. Nay we shall heat you thoroughly anon. Take heed left by your heat you burn yourselves:
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)
O monſtrous Traitor! I arreſt thee Yorke Of Capitall Treaſon 'gainſt the King and Crowne: Obey audacious Traitor, kneele for Grace. Wold'ſt haue me kneele? Firſt let me ask of thee, If they can brooke I bow a knee to man: Sirrah, call in my ſonne to be my bale: I know ere they will haue me go to Ward, They'l pawne their ſwords of my infranchiſement. Call hither Clifford, bid him come amaine, To ſay, if that the Baſtard boyes of Yorke Shall be the Surety for their Traitor Father. O blood-beſpotted Neopolitan, Out-caſt of Naples, Englands bloody Scourge, The ſonnes of Yorke, thy betters in their birth, Shall be their Fathers baile, and bane to thoſe That for my Surety will refuſe the Boyes. See where they come, Ile warrant they'l make it good. And here comes Clifford to deny their baile. Health, and all happineſſe to my Lord the King. I thanke thee Clifford: Say, what newes with thee? Nay, do not fright vs with an angry looke: We are thy Soueraigne Clifford, kneele againe; For thy miſtaking ſo, We pardon thee. This is my King Yorke, I do not miſtake, But thou miſtakes me much to thinke I do, To Bedlem with him, is the man growne mad. I Clifford, a Bedlem and ambitious humor Makes him oppoſe himſelfe againſt his King. He is a Traitor, let him to the Tower, And chop away that factious pate of his. He is atreſted, but will not obey: His ſonnes (he ſayes) ſhall giue their words for him. Will you not Sonnes? I Noble Father, if our words will ſerue. And if words will not, then our Weapons ſhal. Why what a brood of Traitors haue we heere? Looke in a Glaſſe, and call thy Image ſo. I am thy King, and thou a falſe-heart Traitor: Call hither to the ſtake my two braue Beares, That with the very ſhaking of their Chaines, They may aſtoniſh theſe fell-lurking Curres, Bid Salsbury and Warwicke come to me. Are theſe thy Beares? Wee'l bate thy Bears to death, And manacle the Berard in their Chaines, If thou dar'ſt bring them to the bayting place. Oft haue I ſeene a hot ore-weening Curre, Run backe and bite, becauſe he was with-held, Who being ſuffer'd with the Beares fell paw, Hath clapt his taile, betweene his legges and cride, And ſuch a peece of ſeruice will you do, If you oppoſe your ſelues to match Lord Warwicke. Hence heape of wrath, foule indigeſted lumpe, As crooked in thy manners, as thy ſhape. Nay we ſhall heate you thorowly anon. Take heede leaft by your heate you burne your ſelues: