Marlowe, Christopher · published 1594 · first performed or written 1592 [1591-1593] (Annals) history · Pembroke's Men unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
Then thus, but none shall hear it but ourselves. My Lords albeit the Queen win Mortimer, will you be resolute and hold with me? Not I against my nephew. Fear not, the queens words cannot alter him. No, do but mark how earnestly she pleads. And see how coldly his looks make denial. She smiles, now for my life his mind is changed. I'll rather lose his friendship I, then grant. Well of necessity it must be so, My Lords, that I abhor base Gaveston, I hope your honours make no question, And therefore though I plead for his repeal, 'tis not for his sake, but for our avail: Nay for the realm's behoof and for the kings. Fie Mortimer, dishonour not thyself, Can this be true 'twas good to banish him? And is this true to call him home again? Such reasons make white black, and dark night day. My Lord of Lancaster, mark the respect. In no respect can contraries be true. Yet good my lord, hear what he can allege. All that he speaks, is nothing, we are resolved. Do you not wish that Gaveston were dead? I would he were. Why then my lord, give me but leave to speak. But nephew, do not play the sophister. This which I urge, is of a burning zeal, To mend the king, and do our country good: Know you not Gaveston hath store of gold, Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends, As he will front the mightiest of us all, And whereas he shall live and be beloved, 'tis hard for us to work his overthrow. Mark you but that my lord of Lancaster. But were he here, detested as he is, How easily might some base slave be suborned, To greet his lordship with a poniard, And none so much as blame the murderer, But rather praise him for that brave attempt, And in the Chronicle, enrol his name, For purging of the realm of such a plague. He saith true. ay, but how chance this was not done before? Because my lords, it was not thought upon: Nay more, when he shall know it lies in us, To banish him, and then to call him home, 'twill make him vail the topflag of his pride, And fear to offend the meanest noble man. But how if he do not Nephew? Then may we with some colour rise in arms, For howsoever we have borne it out, 'tis treason to be up against the king, So shall we have the people of our side, Which for his father's sake lean to the king, But cannot brook a night grown mushroom, Such a one as my Lord of Cornwall is, Should bear us down of the nobility, And when the commons and the nobles join, 'tis not the king can buckler Gaveston. we'll pull him from the strongest hold he hath, My lords, if to perform this I be slack, Think me as base a groom as Gaveston.
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)
Then thus, but none shal heare it but our selues. My Lords albeit the Queen winne Mortimer, will you be resolute and hold with me? Not I against my nephew. Feare not, the queens words cannot alter him. No, doe but marke how earnestly she pleads. And see how coldly his lookes make deniall. She smiles, now for my life his mind is changd. Ile rather loose his friendship I, then graunt. Well of necessitie it must be so, My Lords, that I abhorre base Gaueston, I hope your honors make no question, And therefore though I pleade for his repeall, Tis not for his sake, but for our auaile: Nay for the realms behoofe and for the kings. Fie Mortimer, dishonor not thy selfe, Can this be true twas good to banish him? And is this true to call him home againe? Such reasons make white blacke, and darke night day. My Lord of Lancaster, marke the respect. In no respect can contraries be true. Yet good my lord, heare what he can alledge. All that he speakes, is nothing, we are resolu'd. Do you not wish that Gaueston were dead? I would he were. Why then my lord, giue me but leaue to speak. But nephew, do not play the sophister. This which I vrge, is of a burning zeale, To mend the king, and do our countrie good: Know you not Gaueston hath store of golde, Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends, As he will front the mightiest of vs all, And whereas he shall liue and be beloude, Tis hard for vs to worke his ouerthrow. Marke you but that my lord of Lancaster. But were he here, detested as he is, How easilie might some base slaue be subbornd, To greet his lordship with a poniard, And none so much as blame the murtherer, But rather praise him for that braue attempt, And in the Chronicle, enrowle his name, For purging of the realme of such a plague. He saith true. I, but how chance this was not done before? Because my lords, it was not thought vpon: Nay more, when he shall know it lies in vs, To banish him, and then to call him home, Twill make him vaile the topflag of his pride, And feare to offend the meanest noble man. But how if he do not Nephew? Then may we with some colour rise in armes, For howsoeuer we haue borne it out, Tis treason to be vp against the king, So shall we haue the people of our side, Which for his fathers sake leane to the king, But cannot brooke a night growne mushrump, Such a one as my Lord of Cornewall is, Should beare vs downe of the nobilitie, And when the commons and the nobles ioyne, Tis not the king can buckler Gaueston. Weele pull him from the strongest hould he hath, My lords, if to performe this I be slack, Thinke me as base a groome as Gaueston.