Marlowe, Christopher · published 1594 · first performed or written 1592 [1591-1593] (Annals) history · Pembroke's Men T18 Rebels, barons and the king's wars at ho typicality 0.88 · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T18: king, lord, wallace, earl, edward, england, scotland, rebels, bruce, english.
O shall I speak, or shall I sigh and die! My lord, refer your vengeance to the sword, Upon these Barons, hearten up your men, Let them not unrevenged murder your friends, Advance your standard Edward in the field, And march to sire them from their starting holes. By earth, the common mother of us all, By heaven, and all the moving orbs thereof, By this right hand, and by my father's sword, And all the honours longing to my crown, I will have heads, and lives for him as many, As I have manors, castles, towns, and towers, Treacherous Warwick, traitorous Mortimer: If I be England's king, in lakes of gore Your headless trunks, your bodies will I trail, That you may drink your fill, and quaff in blood, And stain my royal standard with the same, That so my bloody colours may suggest Remembrance of revenge immortally, On your accursed traitorous progeny: You villains that have slain my Gaveston, And in this place of honour and of trust, Spencer, sweet Spencer, I adopt thee here, And merely of our love we do create thee Earl of Gloster, and lord chamberlain, Despite of times, despite of enemies. My lord, here's is a messenger from the Barons, Desires access unto your majesty. Admit him near. Long live king Edward, England's lawful lord. So wish not they I wis that sent thee hither, Thou comest from Mortimer and his complices, A ranker rout of rebels never was: Well, say thy message. The Barons up in arms, by me salute Your highness, with long life and happiness, And bid me say as plainer to your grace, That if without effusion of blood, You will this grief have ease and remedy, That from your princely person you remove This Spencer, as a putrefying branch, That deads the royal vine, whose golden leaves Impale your princely head, your diadem, Whose brightness such pernicious upstarts dim, Say they, and lovingly advise your grace, To cherish virtue and nobility, And have old servitors in high esteem, And shake off smooth dissembling flatterers: This granted, they, their honours, and their lives, Are to your highness vowed and consecrate. A traitors, will they still display their pride? Away, tarry no answer, but be gone, Rebels, will they appoint their sovereign His sports, his pleasures, and his company: Yet ere thou go, see how I do divorce Spencer from me: now get thee to thy lords, And tell them I will come to chastise them, For murdering Gaveston: hie thee, get thee gone, Edward with fire and sword, follows at thy heels, My lord, perceive you how these rebels swell: Soldiers, good hearts, defend your sovereign's right, For now, even now, we march to make them stoop, Away. Why do we sound retreat? upon them lords, This day I shall power vengeance with my sword On those proud rebels that are up in arms, And do confront and countermand their king. I doubt it not my lord, right will prevail.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T13 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
O shall I speake, or shall I sigh and die! My lord, referre your vengeance to the sword, Vpon these Barons, harten vp your men, Let them not vnreuengd murther your friends, Aduaunce your standard Edward in the field, And marche to sire them from their starting holes. By earth, the common mother of vs all, By heauen, and all the moouing orbes thereof, By this right hand, and by my fathers sword, And all the honors longing to my crowne, I will haue heads, and liues for him as many, As I haue manors, castels, townes, and towers, Tretcherous Warwicke, traiterous Mortimer: If I be Englands king, in lakes of gore Your headles trunkes, your bodies will I traile, That you may drinke your fill, and quaffe in bloud, And staine my roiall standard with the same, That so my bloudie colours may suggest Remembrance of reuenge immortallie, On your accursed traiterous progenie: You villaines that haue slaine my Gaueston, And in this place of honor and of trust, Spencer, sweet Spencer, I adopt thee heere, And meerely of our loue we do create thee Earle of Gloster, and lord Chamberlaine, Despite of times, despite of enemies. My lord, heres is a messenger from the Barons, Desires accesse vnto your maiestie. Admit him neere. Long liue king Edward, Englands lawful lord. So wish not they I wis that sent thee hither, Thou comst from Mortimer and his complices, A ranker route of rebels neuer was: Well, say thy message. The Barons vp in armes, by me salute Your highnes, with long life and happines, And bid me say as plainer to your grace, That if without effusion of bloud, You will this greefe haue ease and remedie, That from your princely person you remooue This Spencer, as a putrifying branche, That deads the royall vine, whose golden leaues Empale your princelie head, your diadem, Whose brightnes such pernitious vpstarts dim, Say they, and louinglie aduise your grace, To cherish vertue and nobilitie, And haue old seruitors in high esteeme, And shake off smooth dissembling flatterers: This graunted, they, their honors, and their liues, Are to your highnesse vowd and consecrate. A traitors, will they still display their pride? Away, tarrie no answer, but be gon, Rebels, will they appoint their soueraigne His sports, his pleasures, and his companie: Yet ere thou go, see how I do deuorce Spencer from me: now get thee to thy lords, And tell them I will come to chastise them, For murthering Gaueston: hie thee, get thee gone, Edward with fire and sword, followes at thy heeles, My lord, perceiue you how these rebels swell: Souldiers, good harts, defend your soueraignes right, For now, euen now, we marche to make them stoope, Away. Why do we sound retreat? vpon them lords, This day I shall powre vengeance with my sword On those proud rebels that are vp in armes, And do confront and countermaund their king. I doubt it not my lord, right will preuaile.