3 Henry the Sixth (The True Tragedy of Richard Duke of York and the Good King Henry the Sixth) · chunk 13 of 34
Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher / Shakespeare, William · published 1595 · first performed or written c.1591 (Annals) history · Pembroke's Men unassigned nearest T43 York and Lancaster: dynastic claims and · 469 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T43: henry, king, richard, warwick, york, edward, father, duke, crown, son.
My Lord this harmful pity makes your followers faint. You promised knighthood to your princely sonne. unsheath your sword and strait do dub him knight. Kneel down Edward. Edward Plantagenet 〈…〉 knight, And learn this lesson boy▪ draw ●●y sword in right My gracious father by your kingly leave, I'll draw it as apparent to the crown, And in that 〈…〉 to the death. Why that is spoken like a toward prince. Royal commanders be in readiness, For with a band of fifty thousand men, Comes Warwick backing of the Duke of York. And in the towns whereas they pass along, Proclaims him king, and many flies to him, Prepare your battles, for they be at hand. I would your highness would departed the field, The Queen hath best success when you are absent. Do good my Lord, and leave us to our fortunes. Why that's my fortune, therefore I'll stay still. Be it with resolution then to fight. Good father cheer these noble Lords, unsheath your sword, sweet father cry Saint George. Pitch we our battle here, for hence we will not move. Now perjury Henry wilt thou yield thy crown, And kneel for mercy at thy sovereign's feet? Go rate thy minions proud insulting boy, Becomes it thee to be thus malapert, Before thy king and lawful sovereign? I am his king and he should bend his knee, I was adopted hear by his consent. Since when he hath broke his oath. For as we hear you that are king Though he do wear the Crown, Have caused him by new act of Parliament To blot our brother out, and put his own son in. And reason George. Who should succeed the father but the son? Are you their butcher? I Crookbacke, here I stand to answer thee, or any of your sort. TTwas you that killed young Rutland, was it not? Yes, and old York too, and yet not satisfied. For Gods sake Lords give synald to the fight. What sayest thou Henry? wilt thou yield thy crown? What, long tongued War, dare you speak? When you and I met at saint Alban's last, Your legs did better service than your hands. I, than ttwas my turn to flee, but now 'tis thine. You said so much before, and yet you fled. TTwas not your valour Clifford, that drove me thence. No nor your manhood Warwick, that could make you stay. Northumberland Northumberland, we hold Thee reverently Break off the party, for scarce I can refrain the execution of my big swollen heart, against that Clifford there, that Cruel child-killer. Why I killed thy father, call'st thou him a child? I like a villain, and a treacherous coward, As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland. But ere sun set I'll make thee curse the deed.
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 this harmefull pittie makes your followers faint. You promiſde knighthood to your princelie ſone. Vnſheath your ſword and ſtraight doe dub him knight. Kneele downe Edward. Edward Plantagenet knight, And learne this leſſon boy▪ draw y ſword in right My gratous father by your kingly leaue, Ile draw it as apparant to the owne, And in that to the death. Why that is ſpoken like a toward prince. Royall commaunders be in readineſſe, For with a band of fiftie thouſand men, Comes Warwike backing of the Duke of Yorke. And in the townes whereas they paſſe along, Proclaimes him king, and manie flies to him, Prepare your battels, for they be at hand. I would your highneſſe would depart the field, The Queene hath beſt ſucceſſe when you are abſent. Do good my Lord, and leaue vs to our fortunes. Why thats my fortune, therefore Ile ſtay ſtill. Be it with reſolution then to fight. Good father cheere theſe noble Lords, Vnſheath your ſword, ſweet father crie Saint George. Pitch we our battell heere, for hence wee will not moue. Now peue Henrie vvilt thou yeelde thy crovvne, And kneele for mercie at thy ſoueraignes feete? Go rate thy minions proud inſulting boy, Becomes it thee to be thus malepert, Before thy kng and lawfull ſoueraigne? I am his king and he ſhould bend his knee, I was adopted hee by his conſent. Since when he hath broke his oath. For as we heare you that are king Though he de weare the Crowne, Haue cauſde hm by new act of Parlement To blot our brother out, and put his owne ſon in. And reaſon George. Who ſhould ſucceede the father but the ſon? Are you their butcher? I Crookbacke, here I ſtand to anſwere thee, or any of your ſort. Twas you that kild yong Rutland, was it not? Yes, and old Yorke too, and yet not ſatisfide. For Gds ſake Lords giue ſynald to the fight. What ſaieſt thou Henry? wilt thou yeelde thy crowne? What, long tongde War, dare you ſpeake? When you and I met at ſaint Albones laſt, Your legs did better ſeruice than your hands. I, then twas my turne to flee, but now tis thine. You ſaid ſo much before, and yet you fled. Twas not your valour Clifford, that droue mee thence. No nor your manhood Warwike, that could make you ſtaie. Northumberland Northumberland, wee holde Thee reuerentlie Breake off the pa e, fo ſcarſe I can refraine the execution of my big ſwolne Hart, againſt that Clifford there, that Cruell child-killer. Why I kild thy father, calſt thou him a child? I like a villaine, and a trecherous coward, As thou didſt kill our tnder brother Rutland. But ere sunne ſet Ile make thee curſe the ded.