Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1595 (Annals) tragedy; history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T29 Disguise and pursuit in Look About You · 492 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T29: gloster, faukenbridge, skinke, hermit, richard, prince, iohn, porter, henry, brother.
Cousin, throw down your gage, Do you begin. Oh heaven defend my soul from such foul sin. Shall I seem Crest-fallen in my father's sight, Or with pale beggar-feare impeach my height Before this outdared dastard? Ere my tongue, Shall wound mine honour with such feeble wrong; Or sound so base a parley: my teeth shall tear The slavish motive of recanting fear. And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace, Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbrayes' face. We were not borne to sue, but to command, Which since we cannot do to make you friends, Be ready, (as your lives shall answer it) At Coventree, upon S. Lambert's day: There shall your swords and Lances arbitrate The swelling difference of your settled hate: Since we cannot atone you, you shall see justice design the Victor's Chivalry. Lord Marshall, command our Officers at Arms, Be ready to direct these home Alarms. Alas, the part I had in Glousters blood, Doth more solicit me then your exclaims, To stir against the Butchers of his life. But since correction lieth in those hands Which made the fault that we cannot correct, Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven, Who when they see the hours ripe on earth, Will reign hot vengeance on offenders heads. Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur? Hath love in thy old blood no living fire? Edward's seven sons (whereof thyself art one) Were as seven viols of his Sacred blood, Or seven fair branches springing from one root: Some of those seven are dried by nature's course, Some of those branches by the destinies cut: But Thomas, my dear Lord, my life, my Glouster, One Viol full of Edward's Sacred blood, One flourishing branch of his most Royal root Is cracked, and all the precious liquor spilt; Is hacked down, and his summer leaves all vaded By Envy's hand, and Murders bloody Axe. Ah Gaunt! His blood was thine, that bed, that womb, That mettle, that selfe-mould that fashioned thee, Made him a man: and though thou liv'st, and breathest, Yet art thou slain in him: thou dost consent In some large measure to thy Father's death, In that thou seest thy wretched brother dye, Who was the model of thy Father's life. Call it not patience (Gaunt) it is despair, In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughtered, Thou show'st the naked pathway to thy life, Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee: That which in mean men we entitle patience Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts: What shall I say, to safeguard thine own life, The best way is to venge my Glousters death. heavens is the quarrel: for heaven's substitute His Deputy anointed in his sight, Hath caused his death, the which if wrongfully Let heaven revenge: for I may never lift An angry arm against his Minister. Where then (alas may I) complaint myself? To heaven, the widow's Champion to defence
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T31 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Cooſin, throw downe your gage, Do you begin. Oh heauen defend my ſoule from ſuch foule ſin. Shall I ſeeme Creſt-falne in my fathers ſight, Or with pale beggar-feare impeach my hight Before this out-dar'd daſtard? Ere my toong, Shall wound mine honor with ſuch feeble wrong; Or ſound ſo baſe a parle: my teeth ſhall teare The ſlauiſh motiue of recanting feare. And ſpit it bleeding in his high diſgrace, Where ſhame doth harbour, euen in Mowbrayes face. We were not borne to ſue, but to command, Which ſince we cannot do to make you friends, Be readie, (as your liues ſhall anſwer it) At Couentree, vpon S. Lamberts day: There ſhall your ſwords and Lances arbitrate The ſwelling difference of your ſetled hate: Since we cannot attone you, you ſhall ſee Iuſtice deſigne the Victors Chiualrie. Lord Marſhall, command our Officers at Armes, Be readie to direct theſe home Alarmes. Alas, the part I had in Glouſters blood, Doth more ſolicite me then your exclaimes, To ſtirre againſt the Butchers of his life. But ſince correction lyeth in thoſe hands Which made the fault that we cannot correct, Put we our quarrell to the will of heauen, Who when they ſee the houres ripe on earth, Will raigne hot vengeance on offenders heads. Findes brotherhood in thee no ſharper ſpurre? Hath loue in thy old blood no liuing fire? Edwards ſeuen ſonnes (whereof thy ſelfe art one) Were as ſeuen violles of his Sacred blood, Or ſeuen faire branches ſpringing from one roote: Some of thoſe ſeuen are dride by natures courſe, Some of thoſe branches by the deſtinies cut: But Thomas, my deere Lord, my life, my Glouſter, One Violl full of Edwards Sacred blood, One flouriſhing branch of his moſt Royall roote Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor ſpilt; Is hackt downe, and his ſummer leafes all vaded By Enuies hand, and Murders bloody Axe. Ah Gaunt! His blood was thine, that bed, that wombe, That mettle, that ſelfe-mould that faſhion'd thee, Made him a man: and though thou liu'ſt, and breath'ſt, Yet art thou ſlaine in him: thou doſt conſent In ſome large meaſure to thy Fathers death, In that thou ſeeſt thy wretched brother dye, Who was the modell of thy Fathers life. Call it not patience (Gaunt) it is diſpaire, In ſuffering thus thy brother to be ſlaughter'd, Thou ſhew'ſt the naked pathway to thy life, Teaching ſterne murther how to butcher thee: That which in meane men we intitle patience Is pale cold cowardice in noble breſts: What ſhall I ſay, to ſafegard thine owne life, The beſt way is to venge my Glouſters death. Heauens is the quarrell: for heauens ſubſtitute His Deputy annointed in his ſight, Hath caus'd his death, the which if wrongfully Let heauen reuenge: for I may neuer lift An angry arme againſt his Miniſter. Where then (alas may I) complaint my ſelfe? To heauen, the widdowes Champion to defence