Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1595 (Annals) tragedy; history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T42 English historical figures: a mixed clus typicality 0.76 · 510 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T42: harry, percy, lord, king, god, falstalffe, frances, mowbray, life, mortimer.
Harry of Herford, Lancaster, and Derbie, Am I: who ready here do stand in Arms, To prove by heaven's grace, and my body's valour, In Lists, on Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolk, That he's a Traitor foul, and dangerous, To God of heaven, King Richard, and to me, And as I truly fight, defend me heaven. On pain of death, no person be so bold, Or daring hardy as to touch the Lists, Except the Marshal, and such Officers Appointed to direct these fair designs. Lord Marshall, let me kiss my Sovereign's hand, And bow my knee before his Majesty: For Mowbray and myself are like two men, That vow a long and weary pilgrimage, Then let us take a ceremonious leave And louing farewell of our several friends. The Appellant in all duty greets your Highness, And craves to kiss your hand, and take his leave. We will descend, and fold him in our arms. Cousin of Herford, as thy cause is just, So be thy fortune in this Royal fight: Farewell, my blood, which if to day thou shed, Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead. Oh let no noble eye profane a tear For me, if I be gored with Mowbrayes' spear: As confident, as is the Falcon's flight Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. My loving Lord, I take my leave of you, Of you (my Noble Cousin) Lord Aumerle; Not sick, although I have to do with death, But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath. Lo, as at English Feasts, so I regreet The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet. Oh thou the earthy author of my blood, Whose youthful spirit in me regenerate, Doth with a twofold rigour lift me up To reach at victory above my head, Add proof unto mine Armour with thy prayers, And with thy blessings steel my Lances point, That it may enter Mowbrayes waxed Coat, And furnish new the name of Iohn a Gaunt, Even in the lusty hauiour of his son. Heaven in thy good cause make thee prosperous Be swift like lightning in the execution, And let thy blows doubly redoubled. Fall like amazing thunder on the Cask Of thy amazed pernicious enemy. Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant, and live. Mine innocence, and S. George to thrive. How ever heaven or fortune cast my lot, There lives, or dies, true to Kings Richard's Throne, A loyal, just, and upright Gentleman: Never did Captive with a freer heart, Cast off his chains of bondage, and embrace His golden uncontrolled enfranchisement, More than my dancing soul doth celebrate This Feast of Battle, with mine Adversary. Most mighty Liege, and my companion Peers, Take from my mouth, the wish of happy years, As gentle, and as jocund, as to jest, Go I to fight: Truth, hath a quiet breast. Farewell, my Lord, securely I espy Virtue with Valour, couched in thine eye: Order the trial Marshall, and begin. Harrie of Herford, Lancaster, and Derby, Receive thy Lance, and heaven defend thy right.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 316–382 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 6 of 43 in this edition
Length
510 words · 715 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T42 — English historical figures: a mixed clustercontext only — excluded from the genre comparison · typicality 0.763 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
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)
Harry of Herford, Lancaſter, and Derbie, Am I: who ready heere do ſtand in Armes, To proue by heauens grace, and my bodies valour, In Liſts, on Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolke, That he's a Traitor foule, and dangerous, To God of heauen, King Richard, and to me, And as I truly fight, defend me heauen. On paine of death, no perſon be ſo bold, Or daring hardie as to touch the Liſtes, Except the Marſhall, and ſuch Officers Appointed to direct theſe faire deſignes. Lord Marſhall, let me kiſſe my Soueraigns hand, And bow my knee before his Maieſtie: For Mowbray and my ſelfe are like two men, That vow a long and weary pilgrimage, Then let vs take a ceremonious leaue And loing farwell of our ſeuerall friends. The Appealant in all duty greets your Highnes, And craues to kiſſe your hand, and take his leaue. We will deſcend, and fold him in our armes. Coſin of Herford, as thy cauſe is iuſt, So be thy fortune in this Royall fight: Farewell, my blood, which if to day thou ſhead, Lament we may, but not reuenge thee dead. Oh let no noble eye prophane a teare For me, if I be gor'd with Mowbrayes ſpeare: As confident, as is the Falcons flight Againſt a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. My louing Lord, I take my leaue of you, Of you (my Noble Coſin) Lord Aumerle; Not ſicke, although I haue to do with death, But luſtie, yong, and cheerely drawing breath. Loe, as at Engliſh Feaſts, ſo I regreete The daintieſt laſt, to make the end moſt ſweet. Oh thou the earthy author of my blood, Whoſe youthfull ſpirit in me regenerate, Doth with a two-fold rigor lift mee vp To reach at victory aboue my head, Adde proofe vnto mine Armour with thy prayres, And with thy bleſsings ſteele my Lances point, That it may enter Mowbrayes waxen Coate, And funiſh new the name of Iohn a Gaunt, Euen in the luſty hauiour of his ſonne. Heauen in thy good cauſe make thee proſp'rous Be ſwift like lightning in the execution, And let thy blowes doubly redoubled. Fall like amazing thunder on the Caske Of thy amaz'd pernicious enemy. Rouze vp thy youthfull blood, be valiant, and liue. Mine innocence, and S. George to thriue. How euer heauen or fortune caſt my lot, There liues, or dies, true to Kings Richards Throne, A loyall, iuſt, and vpright Gentleman: Neuer did Captiue with a freer heart, Caſt off his chaines of bondage, and embrace His golden vncontroul'd enfranchiſement, More then my dancing ſoule doth celebrate This Feaſt of Battell, with mine Aduerſarie. Moſt mighty Liege, and my companion Peeres, Take from my mouth, the wiſh of happy yeares, As gentle, and as iocond, as to ieſt, Go I to fight: Truth, hath a quiet breſt. Farewell, my Lord, ſecurely I eſpy Vertue with Valour, couched in thine eye: Order the triall Marſhall, and begin. Harrie of Herford, Lancaſter, and Derby, Receiue thy Launce, and heauen defend thy right.