2 Henry the Sixth (The First Part of the Contention betwixt the Two Famous Houses of York and Lancaster) · chunk 47 of 49
Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher / Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written c.1590 (Annals) history · Pembroke's Men (?) unassigned nearest T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour · 492 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Why Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow? Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair, Thou mad misleader of thy brainsick son, What wilt thou on thy deathbed play the Ruffian? And seek for sorrow with thy Spectacles? Oh where is Faith? Oh, where is Loyalty? If it be banished from the frosty head, Where shall it find a harbour in the earth? Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out War, And shame thine honourable Age with blood? Why art thou old, and want'st experience? Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it? For shame in duty bend thy knee to me, That bows unto the grave with much age. My Lord, I have considered with myself The Title of this most renowned Duke, And in my conscience, do repute his grace The rightful heir to England's Royal seat. Hast thou not sworn Allegiance unto me? I have. Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath? It is great sin, to swear unto a sin: But greater sin to keep a sinful oath: Who can be bound by any solemn Vow To do a murderous deed, to rob a man, To force a spotless Virgin's Chastity, To reave the Orphan of his Patrimony, To wring the Widow from her customed right, And have no other reason for this wrong, But that he was bound by a solemn Oath? A subtle Traitor needs no Sophister. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast, I am resolved for death and dignity. The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true You were best to go to bed, and dream again, To keep thee from the Tempest of the field. I am resolved to bear a greater storm, Then any thou canst conjure up to day: And that I'll write upon thy Burgonet, Might I but know thee by thy housed Badge. Now by my Father's badge, old Nevil's Crest, The rampant Bear chained to the ragged staff, This day I'll wear aloft my Burgonet, As on a Mountain top, the Cedar shows, That keeps his leaves inspite of any storm, Even io affright thee with the view thereof. And from thy Burgonet I'll rend thy Bear, And tread it under foot with all contempt, Despite the Bearard, that protects the Bear. And so to Arms victorious Father, To quell the Rebels, and their Complices. Fie, Charity for shame, speak not in spite, For you shall sup with Iesu Christ to night. Fowl stygmaticke that's more than thou canst tell. If not in heaven, you'll surely sup in hell. Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls: And if thou dost not hide thee from the Bear, Now when the angry Trumpet sounds alarm, And dead men's cries do fill the empty air, Clifford I say, come forth and fight with me, Proud Northern Lord, Clifford of Cumberland, Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms.
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)
Why Warwicke, hath thy knee forgot to bow? Old Salsbury, ſhame to thy ſiluer haire, Thou mad miſleader of thy brain-ſicke ſonne, What wilt thou on thy death-bed play the Ruffian? And ſeeke for ſorrow with thy Spectacles? Oh where is Faith? Oh, where is Loyalty? If it be baniſht from the froſtie head, Where ſhall it finde a harbour in the earth? Wilt thou go digge a graue to finde out Warre, And ſhame thine honourable Age with blood? Why art thou old, and want'ſt experience? Or wherefore doeſt abuſe it, if thou haſt it? For ſhame in dutie bend thy knee to me, That bowes vnto the graue with mickle age. My Lord, I haue conſidered with my ſelfe The Title of this moſt renowned Duke, And in my conſcience, do repute his grace The rightfull heyre to Englands Royall ſeate. Haſt thou not ſworne Allegeance vnto me? I haue. Canſt thou diſpenſe with heauen for ſuch an oath? It is great ſinne, to ſweare vnto a ſinne: But greater ſinne to keepe a ſinfull oath: Who can be bound by any ſolemne Vow To do a murd'rous deede, to rob a man, To force a ſpotleſſe Virgins Chaſtitie, To reaue the Orphan of his Patrimonie, To wring the Widdow from her cuſtom'd right, And haue no other reaſon for this wrong, But that he was bound by a ſolemne Oath? A ſubtle Traitor needs no Sophiſter. Call Buckingham, and bid him arme himſelfe. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou haſt, I am reſolu'd for death and dignitie. The firſt I warrant thee, if dreames proue true You were beſt to go to bed, and dreame againe, To keepe thee from the Tempeſt of the field. I am reſolu'd to beare a greater ſtorme, Then any thou canſt coniure vp to day: And that Ile write vpon thy Burgonet, Might I but know thee by thy houſed Badge. Now by my Fathers badge, old Neuils Creſt, The rampant Beare chain'd to the ragged ſtaffe, This day Ile weare aloft my Burgonet, As on a Mountaine top, the Cedar ſhewes, That keepes his leaues inſpight of any ſtorme, Euen io affright thee with the view thereof. And from thy Burgonet Ile rend thy Beare, And tread it vnder foot with all contempt, Deſpight the Bearard, that protects the Beare. And ſo to Armes victorious Father, To quell the Rebels, and their Complices. Fie, Charitie for ſhame, ſpeake not in ſpight, For you ſhall ſup with Ieſu Chriſt to night. Foule ſtygmaticke that's more then thou canſt tell. If not in heauen, you'l ſurely ſup in hell. Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwicke calles: And if thou doſt not hide thee from the Beare, Now when the angrie Trumpet ſounds alarum, And dead mens cries do fill the emptie ayre, Clifford I ſay, come forth and fight with me, Proud Northerne Lord, Clifford of Cumberland, Warwicke is hoarſe with calling thee to armes.