3 Henry the Sixth (The True Tragedy of Richard Duke of York and the Good King Henry the Sixth) · chunk 1 of 47
Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher / Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written c.1591 (Annals) history · Pembroke's Men T43 York and Lancaster: dynastic claims and typicality 0.78 · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T43: henry, king, richard, warwick, york, edward, father, duke, crown, son.
I Wonder how the King escaped our hands? While we pursued the Horsemen of the North, He slyly stole away, and left his men: Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland, Whose Warlike ears could never brook retreat, Cheered up the drooping Army, and himself. Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford all abreast Charged our main Battle's Front: and breaking in, Were by the Swords of common Soldiers slain. Lord Staffords Father, Duke of Buckingham, Is either slain or wounded dangerous. I cloven his Beaver with a downright blow: That this is true (Father) behold his blood. And Brother, here's the Earl of Wiltshires blood, Whom I encountered as the Battles joined. Speak thou for me, and tell them what I did. Richard hath best deserved of all my sons: But is your Grace dead, my Lord of Somerset? Such hope have all the line of Iohn of Gaunt. Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head. And so do I, victorious Prince of York. Before I see thee seated in that Throne, Which now the House of Lancaster usurps, I vow by Heaven, these eyes shall never close. This is the Palace of the fearful King, And this the Regal Seat: possess it York, For this is thine, and not King Henry's Heirs. Assist me then, sweet Warwick, and I will, For hither we have broken in by force. we'll all assist you: he that flies, shall dye: Thanks gentle Norfolk, stay by me my Lords, And Soldiers stay and lodge by me this Night. And when the King comes, offer him no violence, Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce. The Queen this day here holds her Parliament, But little thinks we shall be of her counsel, By words or blows here let us win our right. Armed as we are, let's stay within this House. The bloody Parliament shall this be called, Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be King, And bashful Henry deposed, whose Cowardice Hath made us bywords to our enemies. Then leave me not, my Lords be resolute, I mean to take possession of my Right. Neither the King, nor he that loves him best, The proudest he that holds up Lancaster, Dares stir a Wing, if Warwick shake his Bells. I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares: Resolve thee Richard, claim the English Crown. My Lords, look where the sturdy Rebel sits, Even in the Chair of State: belike he means, Backed by the power of Warwick, that false Peer, To aspire unto the Crown, and reign as King. Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy Father, And thine, Lord Clifford, & you both have vowed revenge On him, his sons, his favourites, and his friends. If I be not, Heavens be revenged on me. The hope thereof, makes Clifford mourn in Steel. What, shall we suffer this? let's pluck him down, My heart for anger burns, I cannot brook it. Be patiented, gentle Earl of Westmoreland.
seed 43: T8 · seed 44: T50 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I Wonder how the King eſcap'd our hands? While we purſu'd the Horſmen of ye North, He ſlyly ſtole away, and left his men: Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland, Whoſe Warlike eares could neuer brooke retreat, Chear'd vp the drouping Army, and himſelfe. Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford all a-breſt Charg'd our maine Battailes Front: and breaking in, Were by the Swords of common Souldiers ſlaine. Lord Staffords Father, Duke of Buckingham, Is either ſlaine or wounded dangerous. I cleft his Beauer with a down-right blow: That this is true (Father) behold his blood. And Brother, here's the Earle of Wiltſhires blood, Whom I encountred as the Battels ioyn'd. Speake thou for me, and tell them what I did. Richard hath beſt deſeru'd of all my ſonnes: But is your Grace dead, my Lord of Somerſet? Such hope haue all the line of Iohn of Gaunt. Thus do I hope to ſhake King Henries head. And ſo doe I, victorious Prince of Yorke. Before I ſee thee ſeated in that Throne, Which now the Houſe of Lancaſter vſurpes, I vow by Heauen, theſe eyes ſhall neuer cloſe. This is the Pallace of the fearefull King, And this the Regall Seat: poſſeſſe it Yorke, For this is thine, and not King Henries Heires. Aſſiſt me then, ſweet Warwick, and I will, For hither we haue broken in by force. Wee'le all aſſiſt you: he that flyes, ſhall dye: Thankes gentle Norfolke, ſtay by me my Lords, And Souldiers ſtay and lodge by me this Night. And when the King comes, offer him no violence, Vnleſſe he ſeeke to thruſt you out perforce. The Queene this day here holds her Parliament, But little thinkes we ſhall be of her counſaile, By words or blowes here let vs winne our right. Arm'd as we are, let's ſtay within this Houſe. The bloody Parliament ſhall this be call'd, Vnleſſe Plantagenet, Duke of Yorke, be King, And baſhfull Henry depos'd, whoſe Cowardize Hath made vs by-words to our enemies. Then leaue me not, my Lords be reſolute, I meane to take poſſeſſion of my Right. Neither the King, nor he that loues him beſt, The prowdeſt hee that holds vp Lancaſter, Dares ſtirre a Wing, if Warwick ſhake his Bells. Ile plant Plantagenet, root him vp who dares: Reſolue thee Richard, clayme the Engliſh Crowne. My Lords, looke where the ſturdie Rebell ſits, Euen in the Chayre of State: belike he meanes, Backt by the power of Warwicke, that falſe Peere, To aſpire vnto the Crowne, and reigne as King. Earle of Northumberland, he ſlew thy Father, And thine, Lord Clifford, & you both haue vow'd reuenge On him, his ſonnes, his fauorites, and his friends. If I be not, Heauens be reueng'd on me. The hope thereof, makes Clifford mourne in Steele. What, ſhall we ſuffer this? lets pluck him down, My heart for anger burnes, I cannot brooke it. Be patient, gentle Earle of Weſtmerland.