Shakespeare, William · published 1597 · first performed or written 1595 (Annals) tragedy; history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T42 English historical figures: a mixed clus typicality 0.81 · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T42: harry, percy, lord, king, god, falstalffe, frances, mowbray, life, mortimer.
And daily new exactions are devised, As blanks, benevolences, and I wots not what: But what a God's name doth become of this? Wars hath not wasted it, for warred he hath not, But basely yielded upon compromise, That which his noble ancestors achieved with blows, More hath he spent in peace than they in wars. The Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm. The King grown bankrupt like a broken man. Reproch and dissolution hangeth over him. He hath not money for these Irish wars, His burdenous taxations notwithstanding, But by the robbing of the banished Duke. His noble kinsman most degenerate King, But Lords we hear this fearful tempest sing, Yet seek no shelter to avoid the storm: We see the wind sit sore upon our fails. And yet we strike not, but securely perish. We see the very wrack that we must suffer, And unavoided is the danger now For suffering so the causes of our wrack. Not so, even through the hollow eyes of death, I spy life peering but I dare not say, How near the tidings of our comfort is. Nay let us share thy thoughts as thou dost ours. Be confident to speak Northumberland We three are but thyself, and speaking so Thy words are but as thoughts, therefore be bold. Then thus, I have from le Port Blan A Bay in Britain received intelligence, That Harry duke of Herford, Rainold L. Cobham That late broke from the Duke of Exeter His brother, archbishop late of Canterbury, Sir Thomas Erpingham, sir Iohn Ramston, Sir Iohn Norbery, sir Robert Warerton, and Francis coins; All these well furnished by the Duke of Britain With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war, Are making hither with all due expedience, And shortly mean to touch our Northern shore: Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay The first departing of the King for Ireland. If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke, Imp out our drooping country's broken wing, Redeem from Broking pawn the blemished Crown, Wipe off the dust that hides our Sceptres guilt, And make high Majesty look like itself, Away with me in post to Ravenspurgh: But if you faint, as fearing to do so, Stay, and be secret, and myself will go. To horse, to horse, urge doubts to them that fear. Hold out my horse, and I will first be there. Madam, your majesty is too much sad, You promised, when you parted with the King, To lay aside life-harming heaviness, And entertain a cheerful disposition. To please the king I did, to please myself I cannot do it; yet I know no cause Why I should welcome such a guest as Grief, Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest, As my sweet Richard: yet again me thinks Some unborn sorrow ripe in Fortune's womb. Is coming towards me and my inward soul, With nothing trembles, at something it grieves, More than with parting from my Lord the King.
seed 43: T43 · seed 44: T43 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
And daily new exactions are deuisde, As blanckes, beneuolences, and I wot not what: But what a Gods name doth become of this? Wars hath not wasted it, for warrde he hath not, But basely yeeded vpon compromise, That which his noble auncestors atchiued with blowes, More hath he spent in peace then they in wars. The Earle of Wiltshire hath the realme in farme. The King growen banckrot like a broken man. Reproch and dissolution hangeth ouer him. He hath not money for these Irish wars, His burthenous taxations notwithstanding, But by the robbing of the banisht Duke. His noble kinsman most degenerate King, But Lords we heare this fearefull tempest sing, Yet seeke no shelter to auoid the storme: We see the wind sit sore vpon our failes. And yet we strike not, but securely perish. We see the very wracke that we must suffer, And vnauoided is the danger now For suffering so the causes of our wracke. Not so, euen through the hollow eies of death, I spie life peering but I dare not say, How neere the tidings of our comfort is. Nay let vs share thy thoughts as thou dost ours. Be confident to speake Northumberland We three are but thy selfe, and speaking so Thy words are but as thoughts, therefore be bold. Then thus, I haue from le Port Blan A Bay in Brittaine receiude intelligence, That Harry duke of Herord, Rainold L. Cobham That late broke from the Duke of Exeter His brother, archbishop late of Canterburie, Sir Thomas Epingham, sir Iohn Ramston, Sir Iohn Norbery, sir Robert Wateron, and Francis Coins; All these well furnished by the Duke of Brittaine With eight tall shippes, three thousand men of warre, Are making hither with all due expedience, And shortly meane to touch our Northerne shore: Perhaps they had er this, but that they stay The first departing of the King for Ireland. If then we shall shake off our slauish yoke, Impe out our drowping countries broken wing, Redeeme from Broking pawne the blemisht Crowne, Wipe off the dust that hides our Scepters guilt, And make high Maiestie looke like it selfe, Away with me in post to Rauenspurgh: But if you faint, as fearing to do so, Stay, and be secret, and my selfe will go. To horse, to horse, vrge doubts to them that feare. Holde out my horse, and I will first be there. Madam, your maiestie is too much sad, You promist, when you parted with the King, To lay aside life-harming heauines, And entertaine a cheerefull disposition. To please the king I did, to please my selfe I cannot do it; yet I know no cause Why I should welcome such a guest as Griefe, Saue bidding farewell to so swte a guest, As my sweete Richard: yet agayne me thinkes Some vnborne sorrow ripe in Fortunes wombe. Is commng towardes me and my inward soule, With nothing trembles, at something it grieues, More then with parting from my Lord the King.