Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1595 (Annals) tragedy; history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T43 York and Lancaster: dynastic claims and typicality 0.78 · 490 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T43: henry, king, richard, warwick, york, edward, father, duke, crown, son.
Think what you will: we seize into our hands, His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands. I'll not be by the while: My Liege farewell, What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell. But by bad courses may be understood, That their events can never fall out good. Go Bushie to the Earl of Wiltshire straight, Bid him repair to us to Ely house, To see this business: to morrow next We will for Ireland, and 'tis time, I trow: And we create in absence of ourself Our Uncle York, Lord Governor of England: For he is just, and always lov'd us well. Come on out Queen, to morrow must we part, Be merry, for our time of stay is short. Well Lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead. And living too, for now his son is Duke. Barely in title, not in revennew. Richly in both, if justice had her right. My heart is great: but it must break with silence, ere't be disburdened with a liberal tongue. Nay speak thy mind: & let him ne'er speak more That speaks thy words again to do thee harm. Tends that thou'dst speak to th' Du. of Hereford, If it be so, out with it boldly man, Quicke is mine ear to hear of good towards him. No good at all that I can do for him, Unless you call it good to pity him, bereft and gelded of his patrimony. Now afore heaven, 'tis shame such wrongs are borne, In him a royal Prince, and many more Of noble blood in this declining Land; The King is not himself, but basely led By Flatterers, and what they will inform Merely in hate 'gainst any of us all, That will the King severely prosecute 'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs. The Commons hath he piled with grievous taxes And quite lost their hearts: the Nobles hath he find For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. And daily new exactions are devised, As blanks, benevolences, and I wots not what: But what o' 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 Ancestors achieved with blows: More hath he spent in peace, than they in wars. The Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in Farm. The Kings grown bankrupt like a broken man. Reproach, 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 salles, 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.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 829–889 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 14 of 43 in this edition
Length
490 words · 657 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T43 — York and Lancaster: dynastic claims and conflictcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.778 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T8 · seed 44: T50 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Thinke what you will: we ſeie into our hands, His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands. Ile no be by the while: My Liege farewell, What will enſue heereof, there's none can tell. But by bad couſes may be vnderſtood, That their euents can neuer fall out good. Go Buſhie to the Earle of Wiltſhire ſtreight, Bid him repaire to vs to Ely houſe, To ſee this buſineſſe: to morrow next We will for Ireland, and 'tis time, I trow: And we create in abſence of our ſelfe Our Vncle Yorke, Lord Gouernor of England: For he is iuſt, and alwayes loud vs well. Come on out Queene, to morrow muſt we part, Be merry, for our time of ſtay is ſhort. Well Lords, the Duke of Lancaſter is dead. And liuing too, for now his ſonne is Duke. Barely in title, not in reuennew. Richly in both, if iuſtice had her right. My heart is great: but it muſt break with ſilence, Er't be disburthen'd with a liberall tongue. Nay ſpeake thy mind: & let him ne'r ſpeak more That ſpeakes thy words againe to do thee harme. Tends that thou'dſt ſpeake to th' Du▪ of Hereford, If it be ſo, out with it boldly man, Quicke is mine eare to heare of good towards him. No good at all that I can do for him, Vnleſſe you call it good to pitie him, Bereſt and gelded of his patrimonie. Now afore heauen, 'tis ſhame ſuch wrongs are borne, In him a royall Prince, and many moe Of noble blood in this declining Land; The King is not himſelfe, but baſely led By Flatterers, and what they will informe Meerely in hate 'gainſt any of vs all, That will the King ſeuerely proſecute 'Gainſt vs, our liues, our children, and our heires. The Commons hath he pil'd with greeuous taxes And quite loſt their hearts: the Nobles hath he finde For ancient quarrels, and quite loſt their hearts. And daily new exctions are deuis'd, As blankes▪ beneuolences, and I wot not what: But what o' Gods name doth become of this? Wars hath not waſted it, for war'd he hath not. But baſely yeelded vpon comprimize, That which his Anceſtors atchieu'd with blowes: More hath he ſpent in peace, then they in warres. The Earle of Wiltſhire hath the realme in Farme. The Kings growne bankrupt like a broken man. Reproach, and diſſolution hangeth ouer him. He hath not monie for theſe Iriſh warres: (His burthenous taxations notwithſtanding) But by the robbing of the baniſh'd 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 winde ſit ſore vpon our ſalles, And yet we ſtrike not, but ſecurely periſh We ſee the very wracke that we muſt ſuffer, And auoyded is the danger now For irſtng ſo the cauſes of our wracke.