3 Henry the Sixth (The True Tragedy of Richard Duke of York and the Good King Henry the Sixth) · chunk 21 of 47
Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher / Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written c.1591 (Annals) history · Pembroke's Men T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.84 · 503 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
I think is understanding is bereft: Speak Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee? Dark cloudy death ore-shades his beams of life, And he nor sees, nor hears us, what we say. O would he did, and so (perhaps) he doth, 'Tis but his policy to counterfeit, Because he would avoid such bitter taunts Which in the time of death he gave our Father. If so thou thinkest, Vex him with eager Words. Clifford, ask mercy, and obtain no grace. Clifford, repent in bootless penitence. Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults, While we device fell Tortures for thy faults. Thou didd'st love York, and I am son to York. Thou pittied'st Rutland, I will pity thee. Where's Captain Margaret, to fence you now? They mock thee Clifford, Swear as thou was't wont. What, not an Oath? Nay then the world goes hard When Clifford cannot spare his Friends an oath: I know by that he's dead, and by my Soul, If this right hand would buy two hours' life, That I (in all despite) might rail at him, This hand should chop it off: & with the issuing Blood Stifle the Villain, whose unstanched thirst York, and young Rutland could not satisfy I, but he's dead. Of with the Traitor's head, And rear it in the place your Fathers stands. And now to London with Triumphant march, There to be crowned England's Royal King: From whence, shall Warwick cut the Sea to France, And ask the Lady Bona for thy Queen: So shalt thou sinow both these Lands together, And having France thy Friend, thou shalt not dread The scattered Foe, that hopes to rise again: For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt, Yet look to have them buzz to offend thine ears: First, will I see the Coronation, And then to Britanny I'll cross the Sea, To effect this marriage, so it please my Lord. Even as thou wilt sweet Warwick, let it be: For in thy shoulder do I build my Seat; And never will I undertake the thing Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting: Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloucester, And George of Clarence; Warwick as ourself, Shall do, and undo as him pleaseth best. Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloster, For Gloucester's Dukedom is too ominous. Tut, that's a foolish observation: Richard, be Duke of Gloster: Now to London, To see these Honours in possession. Under this thick grown brake, we'll shroud ourselves: For through this Land anon the Deer will come, And in this covert will we make our Stand, Culling the principal of all the Dear. I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot. That cannot be, the noise of thy Crossbow Will scare the Herd, and so my shoot is lost: here stand we both, and aim we at the best: And for the time shall not seem tedious, I'll tell thee what befell me on a day, In this selfe-place, where now we mean to stand.
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)
I thinke is vnderſtanding is bereft: Speake Clifford, doſt thou know who ſpeakes to thee? Darke cloudy death ore-ſhades his beames of life, And he nor ſees, nor heares vs, what we ſay. O would he did, and ſo (perhaps) he doth, 'Tis but his policy to counterfet, Becauſe he would auoid ſuch bitter taunts Which in the time of death he gaue our Father. If ſo thou think'ſt, Vex him with eager Words. Clifford, aske mercy, and obtaine no grace. Clifford, repent in bootleſſe penitence. Clifford, deuiſe excuſes for thy faults, While we deuiſe fell Tortures for thy faults. Thou didd'ſt loue Yorke, and I am ſon to Yorke. Thou pittied'ſt Rutland, I will pitty thee. Where's Captaine Margaret, to fence you now? They mocke thee Clifford, Sweare as thou was't wont. What, not an Oath? Nay then the world go's hard When Clifford cannot ſpare his Friends an oath: I know by that he's dead, and by my Soule, If this right hand would buy two houres life, That I (in all deſpight) might rayle at him, This hand ſhould chop it off: & with the iſſuing Blood Stifle the Villaine, whoſe vnſtanched thirſt Yorke, and yong Rutland could not ſatisfie I, but he's dead. Of with the Traitors head, And reare it in the place your Fathers ſtands. And now to London with Triumphant march, There to be crowned Englands Royall King: From whence, ſhall Warwicke cut the Sea to France, And aske the Ladie Bona for thy Queene: So ſhalt thou ſinow both theſe Lands together, And hauing France thy Friend, thou ſhalt not dread The ſcattred Foe, that hopes to riſe againe: For though they cannot greatly ſting to hurt, Yet looke to haue them buz to offend thine eares: Firſt, will I ſee the Coronation, And then to Britanny Ile croſſe the Sea, To effect this marriage, ſo it pleaſe my Lord. Euen as thou wilt ſweet Warwicke, let it bee: For in thy ſhoulder do I builde my Seate; And neuer will I vndertake the thing Wherein thy counſaile and conſent is wanting: Richard, I will create thee Duke of Glouceſter, And George of Clarence; Warwicke as our Selfe, Shall do, and vndo as him pleaſeth beſt. Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloſter, For Gloſters Dukedome is too ominous. Tut, that's a fooliſh obſeruation: Richard▪ be Duke of Gloſter: Now to London, To ſee theſe Honors in poſſeſſion. Vnder this thicke growne brake, wee'l ſhrowd our ſelues: For through this Laund anon the Deere will come, And in this couert will we make our Stand, Culling the principall of all the Deere. Ile ſtay aboue the hill, ſo both may ſhoot. That cannot be, the noiſe of thy Croſſe-bow Will ſcarre the Heard, and ſo my ſhoot is loſt: Heere ſtand we both, and ayme we at the beſt: And for the time ſhall not ſeeme tedious, Ile tell thee what befell me on a day, In this ſelfe-place, where now we meane to ſtand.