The True Tragedy of Richard the Third · chunk 26 of 40
Anonymous · published 1594 · first performed or written 1591 [1588-1594] (Annals) tragedy; history · Queen Elizabeth's Men T43 York and Lancaster: dynastic claims and typicality 0.86 · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T43: henry, king, richard, warwick, york, edward, father, duke, crown, son.
My Lord we are sorry. But come lay hands on Banister. The goal is got, and golden Crown is won, And well deservest thou to wear the same, That ventured hast thy body and thy soul, But what boots Richard, now the Diadem Or kingdom got, by murder of his friends, My fearful shadow that still follows me, Hath summoned me before the severe judge, My conscience witness of the blood I spilled, Accuseth me as guilty of the fact, The fact, a damned judgement craves, Whereas impartial justice hath condemned. methinks the Crown which I before did wear, Enchased with Pearl and costly Diamonds, Is turned now into a fatal wreath, Of fiery flames, and ever burning stars, And raging fiends hath passed there ugly shapes, In Stygian lakes, addressed to tend on me, If it be thus, what wilt thou do in this extremity? Nay what canst thou do to purge thee of thy guilt? even repent, crave mercy for thy damned fact, Appeal for mercy to thy righteous God, Ha repent, not I, crave mercy they that list. My God, is none of mine. Then Richard be thus resolved, To place thy soul in vallence with their blood, Soul for soul, and body for body, yea marry Richard, That's good, Catesbie. You called my Lord, I think? It may be so. But what thinkst thou Catesbie? Of what my Lord? Why of all these troubles. Why my Lord, I hope to see them happily overcomed. How villain, dost thou hope to see me happily overcomed? Who you my Lord? Ay villain, thou points at me, thou hopest to see me overcomed. No my good Lord, your enemies or else not. Ha, ha, good Catesbie, but what hearest thou of the Duke of Buckingham? Why he is dead my Lord, he was executed at Salisbury yesterday. Why 'tis impossible, his friends hopes that he shall outline me, to be my head. Outlive you, Lord that's strange. No Catesbie, if a do, it must be in fames, And since they hope he shall out live me, to be my head, He hops without his head, & rests among his fellow rebels. marry no force my Lord. But Catesbie, what hearest thou of Henry Earl of Richmond? Not a word my Lord. No: hearest thou not he lives in Britain, In favour with the Duke. Nay more, Lady Margaret his mother conspires against us, And persuades him that he is lineally descended from Henry The fourth, and that he hath right to the Crown, Therefore tell me what thinkst thou of the Earl? My Lord, I think of the Earl as he doth deserve, A most famous gentleman. Villain dost thou praise my foe, and commend him to my face? Nay my Lord, I wish he were as good a friend as he is a foe, else the due deserts of a traitor.
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)
My Lord we are ſorie. But come laie hands on Baniſter. The goale is got, and golden Crowne is wonne, And well deſerueſt thou to weare the ſame, That ventured haſt thy bodie and thy ſoule, But what bootes Richard, now the Diademe Or kingdome got, by murther of his friends, My fearefull ſhadow that ſtill followes me, Hath ſommond me before the ſeuere iudge, My conſcience witneſſe of the blood I ſpilt, Accuſeth me as guiltie of the fact, The fact, a damned iudgement craues, Whereas impartiall iuſtice hath condemned. Meethinkes the Crowne which I before did weare, Inchaſt with Pearle and coſtly Diamonds, Is turned now into a fatall wreathe, Of fiery flames, and euer burning ſtarres, And raging fiends hath paſt ther vgly ſhapes, In ſtudient lakes, adreſt to tend on me, If it be thus, what wilt thou do in this extremitie? Nay what canſt thou do to purge thee of thy guilt? Euen repent, craue mercie for thy damned fact, Appeale for mercy to thy righteous God, Ha repent, not I, craue mercy they that liſt. My God, is none of mine. Then Richard be thus reſolu'd, To pace thy ſoule in vallence with their blood, Soule for ſoule, and bodie for bodie, yea mary Richard, That▪s good, Catesbie. You cald my Lord, I thinke? It may be ſo. But what thinkſt thou Catesbie? Of what my Lord? Why of all theſe troubles. Why my Lord, I hope to ſee them happily ouercom'd. How villain, doeſt thou hope to ſee me happily ouercom'd? Who you my Lord? Ay villaine, thou points at me, thou hopeſt to ſee me ouercom'd. No my good Lord, your enemies or elſe not. Ha, ha, good Catesbie, but what heareſt thou of the Duke of Buckingham? Why he is dead my Lord, he was executed at Salisbury yeſterday. Why tis impoſſible, his friends hopes that he ſhall outline me, to be my head. Out-liue you, Lord thats ſtraunge. No Catesbie, if a do, it muſt be in fames, And ſince they hope he ſhall out liue me, to be my head, He hops without his head, & reſts among his fellow rebels. Mary no force my Lord. But Catesbie, what heareſt thou of Henry Earle of Richmond? Not a word my Lord. No: heareſt thou not he liues in Brittaine, In fauour with the Duke. Nay more, Lady Margaret his mother conſpires againſt vs, And perſwades him that hee is lineally deſcended from Henry The fourth, and that he hath right to the Crowne, Therefore tell me what thinkſt thou of the Earle? My Lord, I thinke of the Earle as he doth deſerue, A moſt famous gentleman. Villaine doeſt thou praiſe my foe, and commend him to my face? Nay my Lord, I wiſh he were as good a friend as he is a foe, elſe the due deſerts of a traytor.