Marlowe, Christopher · published 1594 · first performed or written 1592 [1591-1593] (Annals) history · Pembroke's Men T31 Popes, cardinals and the crown typicality 0.79 · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T31: cardinal, pope, king, lord, majesty, holy, rome, france, church, lords.
What should a priest do with so fair a house? A prison may beseem his holiness. 'tis true, the Bishop is in the tower, And goods and body given to Gaveston. What? will they tyrannize upon the Church? Ah wicked king, accursed Gaveston, This ground which is corrupted with their steps, Shall be their timeless sepulchre, or mine. Well, let that peevish Frenchman guard him sure Unless his breast be sword proof he shall die. How now, why droops the earl of Lancaster? Wherefore is Guy of Warwick discontent? That villain Gaveston is made an Earl. An Earl! ay, and beside, lord chamberlain of the realm, And secretary to, and lord of Man. We may not, nor we will not suffer this. Why post we not from hence to levy men? My lord of Cornwall, now at every word, And happy is the man, whom he vouchsafes For veiling of his bonnet one good look, Thus arm in arm, the king and he doth march: Nay more, the guard upon his lordship waits: And all the court begins to flatter him. Thus leaning on the shoulder of the king. He nods, and scorns, and smiles at those that pass. Doth no man take exceptions at the slave? All stomach him, but none dare speak a word. Ah that bewrays their baseness Lancaster, Were all the Earls and Barons of my mind, we'll hale him from the bosom of the king, And at the court gate hang the peasant up, Who swollen with venom of ambitious pride, Will be the ruin of the realm and us. Here comes my lord of Canterbury's grace. His countenance bewrays he is displeased. First were his sacred garments rent and torn, Then laid they violent hands upon him next, Himself imprisoned, and his goods asseized, This certify the Pope, away take horse. My lord, will you take arms against the king? What need I, God himself is up in arms, When violence is offered to the church. Then will you join with us that be his peers To banish or behead that Gaveston? What else my lords, for it concerns me near, The Bishopric of Couentrie is his. Madam, whether walks your majesty so fast? Unto the forest gentle Mortimer, To live in grief and baleful discontent, For now my lord the king regards me not, But dotes upon the love of Gaveston, He claps his cheeks, and hangs about his neck, Smiles in his face, and whispers in his ears, And when I come, he frowns, as who should say, Go whether thou wilt seeing I have Gaveston. Is it not strange, that he is thus bewitched? Madam, return unto the court again: That sly inveigling Frenchman we'll exile, Or lose our lives: and yet ere that day come, The king shall lose his crown, for we have power, And courage to, to be revenged at full. But yet lift not your swords against the king. No, but we'll lift Gaveston from hence.
seed 43: T38 · seed 44: T38 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
What should a priest do with so faire a house? A prison may be seeme his holinesse. Tis true, the Bishop is in the tower, And goods and body giuen to Gaueston. What? will they tyrannize vpon the Church? Ah wicked king, accurssed Gaueston, This ground which is corrupted with their steps, Shall be their timeles sepulcher, or mine. Wel, let that peeuish Frenchmā guard him sure Vnlesse his brest be sword proofe he shall die. How now, why droops the earle of Lancaster? Wherfore is Guy of Warwicke discontent? That villaine Gaueston is made an Earle. An Earle! I, and besides, lord Chamberlaine of the realme, And secretary to, and lord of Man. We may not, nor we will not suffer this. Why post we not from hence to leuie men? My lord of Cornewall, now at euery worde, And happie is the man, whom he vouchsafes For vailing of his bonnet one good looke, Thus arme in arme, the king and he dooth marche: Nay more, the guarde vpon his lordship waites: And all the court begins to flatter him. Thus leaning on the shoulder of the king. He nods, and scornes, and smiles at those that passe. Doth no man take exceptions at the slaue? All stomack him, but none dare speake a word. Ah that bewraies their basenes Lancaster, Were all the Earles and Barons of my minde, Weele hale him from the bosome of the king, And at the court gate hang the pessant vp, Who swolne with venome of ambitious pride, Will be the ruine of the realme and vs. Here comes my lord of Canterburies grace. His countenance bewraies he is displeasd. First were his sacred garments rent and torne, Then laide they violent hands vpon him next, Himselfe imprisoned, and his goods asceasd, This certifie the Pope, away take horsse. My lord, will you take armes against the king? What neede I, God himselfe is vp in armes, When violence is offered to the church. Then wil you ioine with vs that be his peeres To banish or behead that Gaueston? VVhat els my lords, for it concernes me neere, The Bishoprick of Couentrie is his. Madam, whether walks your maiestie so fast? Vnto the forrest gentle Mortimer, To liue in greefe and balefull discontent, For now my lord the king regardes me not, But dotes vpon the loue of Gaueston, He claps his cheekes, and hanges about his neck, Smiles in his face, and whispers in his eares, And when I come, he frownes, as who should say, Go whether thou wilt seeing I haue Gaueston. Is it not straunge, that he is thus bewitcht? Madam, returne vnto the court againe: That slie inueigling Frenchman weele exile, Or lose our liues: and yet ere that day come, The king shall lose his crowne, for we haue power, And courage to, to be reuengde at full. But yet lift not your swords against the king. No, but weele lift Gaueston from hence.