3 Henry the Sixth (The True Tragedy of Richard Duke of York and the Good King Henry the Sixth) · chunk 35 of 47
Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher / Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written c.1591 (Annals) history · Pembroke's Men unassigned nearest T31 Popes, cardinals and the crown · 506 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T31: cardinal, pope, king, lord, majesty, holy, rome, france, church, lords.
I almost slain, for he is taken prisoner, Either betrayed by falsehood of his Guard, Or by his Foe surprised at unawares: And as I further have to understand, Is new committed to the Bishop of York, Fell Warwick's Brother, and by that our Foe. These News I must confess are full of grief, Yet gracious Madam, bear it as you may, Warwick may lose, that now hath won the day. Till then, fair hope must hinder lives decay: And I the rather wain me from despair For love of Edward's Offspring in my womb: This is it that makes me bridle passion, And bear with Mildness my misfortunes cross: I, I, for this I draw in many a tear, And stop the rising of bloodsucking sighs, Lest with my sighs or tears, I blast or drown King Edward's Fruit, true heir to th' English Crown. But Madam, Where is Warwick then become? I am informed that he comes towards London, To set the Crown once more on Henry's head, Guess thou the rest, King Edward's Friends must down. But to prevent the Tyrant's violence, (For trust not him that hath once broken Faith) i'll hence forthwith unto the Sanctuary, To save (at least) the heir of Edward's right: There shall I rest secure from force and fraud: Come therefore let us fly, while we may fly, If Warwick take us, we are sure to dye. Now my Lord Hastings, and Sir William Stanley Leave off to wonder why I drew you hither, Into this chiefest Thicket of the Park. Thus stand the case: you know our King, my Brother, Is prisoner to the Bishop here, at whose hands He hath good usage, and great liberty, And often but attended with weak guard, Come hunting this way to disport himself. I have advertised him by secret means, That if about this hour he make this way, Under the colour of his usual game, He shall here find his Friends with Horse and Men, To set him free from his Captivity. This way my Lord, For this way lies the Game. Nay this way man, See where the Huntsmen stand. Now Brother of Gloster, Lord Hastings, and the rest, Stand you thus close to steal the Bishop's Deer? Brother, the time and case, requireth haste, Your horse stands ready at the Parke-corner. But whether shall we then? To Lyn my Lord, And shipped from thence to Flanders. Well guest believe me, for that was my meaning Stanley, I will requite thy forwardness. But wherefore stay we? 'tis no time to talk. Huntsman, what sayst thou? Wilt thou go along? Better do so, then tarry and be hanged. Come then away, let's ha' no more ado. Bishop farewell, Shield thee from Warwick's frown, And pray that I may repossess the Crown. M. Lieutenant, now that God and Friends Have shaken Edward from the Regal seat, And turned my captive state to liberty, My fear to hope, my sorrows unto joys, At our enlargement what are thy due Fees?
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 almoſt ſlaine, for he is taken priſoner, Either betrayd by falſhood of his Guard, Or by his Foe ſurpriz'd at vnawares: And as I further haue to vnderſtand, Is new committed to the Biſhop of Yorke, Fell Warwickes Brother, and by that our Foe. Theſe Newes I muſt confeſſe are full of greefe, Yet gracious Madam, beare it as you may, Warwicke may looſe, that now hath wonne the day. Till then, faire hope muſt hinder liues decay: And I the rather waine me from diſpaire For loue of Edwards Off-ſpring in my wombe: This is it that makes me bridle paſſion, And beare with Mildneſſe my misfortunes croſſe: I, I, for this I draw in many a teare, And ſtop the riſing of blood-ſucking ſighes, Leaſt with my ſighes or teares, I blaſt or drowne King Edwards Fruite, true heyre to th' Engliſh Crowne. But Madam, Where is Warwicke then become? I am inform'd that he comes towards London, To ſet the Crowne once more on Henries head, Gueſſe thou the reſt, King Edwards Friends muſt downe. But to preuent the Tyrants violence, (For truſt not him that hath once broken Faith) Ile hence forthwith vnto the Sanctuary, To ſaue (at leaſt) the heire of Edwards right: There ſhall I reſt ſecure from force and fraud: Come therefore let vs flye, while we may flye, If Warwicke take vs, we are ſure to dye. Now my Lord Haſtings, and Sir William Stanley Leaue off to wonder why I drew you hither, Into this cheefeſt Thicket of the Parke. Thus ſtand the caſe: you know our King, my Brother, Is priſoner to the Biſhop here, at whoſe hands He hath good vſage, and great liberty, And often but attended with weake guard, Come hunting this way to diſport himſelfe. I haue aduertis'd him by ſecret meanes, That if about this houre he make this way, Vnder the colour of his vſuall game, He ſhall heere finde his Friends with Horſe and Men, To ſet him free from his Captiuitie. This way my Lord, For this way lies the Game. Nay this way man, See where the Huntſmen ſtand. Now Brother of Gloſter, Lord Haſtings, and the reſt, Stand you thus cloſe to ſteale the Biſhops Deere? Brother, the time and caſe, requireth haſt, Your horſe ſtands ready at the Parke-corner. But whether ſhall we then? To Lyn my Lord, And ſhipt from thence to Flanders. Wel gueſt beleeue me, for that was my meaning Stanley, I will requite thy forwardneſſe. But wherefore ſtay we? 'tis no time to talke. Huntſman, what ſay'ſt thou? Wilt thou go along? Better do ſo, then tarry and be hang'd. Come then away, lets ha no more adoo. Biſhop farwell, Sheeld thee from Warwickes frowne, And pray that I may re-poſſeſſe the Crowne. M. Lieutenant, now that God and Friends Haue ſhaken Edward from the Regall ſeate, And turn'd my captiue ſtate to libertie, My feare to hope, my ſorrowes vnto ioyes, At our enlargement what are thy due Fees?