The Reign of King Edward the Third · chunk 5 of 39
Anonymous / Shakespeare, William · published 1596 · first performed or written 1590 [c.1590-1595] (Annals) history · Derby's (Strange's) Men (?) unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
My gracious King, fair is she not at all, If that herself were by to stain herself, As I have seen her when she was herself. What strange enchantment lurk in those her eyes? When they excelled this excellence they have, That now her dim decline hath power to draw, My subject eyes from piercing majesty, To gaze on her with doting admiration. In duty lower than the ground I kneel, And for my dull knees bow my feeling heart, To witness my obedience to your highness, With many millions of a subjects thanks. For this your Royal presence, whose approach, Hath driven war and danger from my gate. Lady stand up, I come to bring thee peace, however thereby I have purchased war. No war to you my liege, the Scots are gone, And gallop home toward Scotland with their hate, lest yielding here, I pine in shameful love: Come we'll pursue the Scots, Artoyes away. A little while my gracious sovereign stay, And let the power of a mighty king Honour our roof: my husband in the wars, When he shall hear it will triumph for joy. Then dear my liege, now niggard not thy state, Being at the wall, enter our homely gate. Pardon me countesse, I will come no near, I dreamed tonight of treason and I fear. Far from this place let ugly treason lie. No farther off, than her conspiring eye, Which shoots infected poison in my heart. Beyond repulse of wit or cure of Art. Now in the Sun alone it doth not lie, With light to take light, from a mortal eye. For here today stars that mine eyes would see, More than the Sun steals mine own light from me: Contemplative desire, desire to be, In contemplation that may master thee. Warwick, Artoys, to horse and let's away. What might I speak to make my sovereign stay? What needs a tongue to such a speaking eye, That more persuades then winning Oratory. Let not thy presence like the April sun, Flatter our earth, and suddenly be done: More happy do not make our outward wall, Than thou wilt grace our inner house withal, Our house my liege is like a Country swain, Whose habitude, and manners blunt and plain, Presageth nought yet inly beautified, With bounties riches; and fair hidden pride: For where the golden Ore doth buried lie, The ground undecked with nature's tapestry, Seems barren, sere, unfertile, fruitless dry, And where the upper turf of earth doth boast, His pride perfumes, and party coloured cost, Delve there, and find this issue and their pride, To spring from ordure, and corruptions side: But to make up my all to long compare, These ragged walls no testomie are, What is within, but like a cloak doth hide, From weather's West, the under garnished pride: More gracious than my terms can let thee be, Entreat thyself to stay a while with me.
seed 43: T31 · 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 gratious King, faire is ſhe not at all, If that her ſelfe were by to ſtaine herſelfe, As I haue ſeene her when ſhe was her ſelfe. What ſtrange enchantment lurke in thoſe her eyes? When they exceld this excellence they haue, That now her dym declyne hath power to draw, My ſubiect eyes from perſing maieſtie, To gaze on her with doting admiration. In duetie lower then the ground I kneele, And for my dul knees bow my feeling heart, To witnes my obedience to your highnes, With many millions of a ſubiects thanks. For this your Royall preſence, whoſe approch, Hath driuen war and danger from my gate. Lady ſtand vp, I come to bring thee peace, How euer thereby I haue purchaſt war. No war to you my liege, the Scots are gone, And gallop home toward Scotland with their hate, Leaſt yeelding heere, I pyne in ſhamefull loue: Come wele perſue the Scots, Artoyes away. A little while my gratious ſoueraigne ſtay, And let the power of a mighty king Honor our roofe: my husband in the warres, When he ſhall heare it will triumph for ioy. Then deare my liege, now niggard not thy ſtate, Being at the wall, enter our homely gate. Pardon me counteſſe, I will come no neare, I dreamde to night of treaſon and I feare. Far from this place let vgly treaſonly. No farther off, then her conſpyring eye, Which ſhoots infected poyſon in my heart. Beyond repulſe of wit or cure of Art. Now in the Sunne alone it doth not lye, With light to take light, from a mortall eye. For here to day ſtars that myne eies would ſee, More then the Sunne ſteales myne owne light from mee: Contemplatiue deſire, deſire to be, In contemplation that may maſter thee. Warwike, Artoys, to horſe and lets away. What might I ſpeake to make my ſoueraigne ſtay? What needs a tongue to ſuch a ſpeaking eie, That more perſwads then winning Oratorie. Let not thy preſence like the Aprill ſunne, Flatter our earth, and ſodenly be done: More happie do not make our outward wall, Then thou wilt grace our inner houſe withall, Our houſe my liege is like a Country ſwaine, Whoſe habit iude, and wanners blunt and playne, Preſageth nought yet inly beautified, With bounties riches; and faire hidden pride: For where the golden Ore doth buried lie, The ground vndect with natures tapeſtrie, Seemes barrayne, re, vnfertill, fuctles dry, And where the vpper turfe of earth doth boaſt, His pride perfumes, and party colloured coſt, Delue there, and find this iſſue and their pride, To ſpring from ordure, and corruptions ſide: But to make vp my all to long compare, Theſe ragged walles no teſtomie are, What is within, bt like a cloake doth hide, From weathers Weſt, the vnder garniſht pride: More gratious then my tearmes can let thee be, Intreat thy ſelfe to ſtay a while with mee.