Shakespeare, William · published 1597 · first performed or written 1592 [1591-1592] (Annals) tragedy; history · Derby's (Strange's) Men (?) unassigned nearest T40 Sin, guilt and violent loss within famil · 471 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
What we will do, we do upon command. And he that hath commanded, is the King. Erroneous Vassal, the great King of Kings▪ Hath in the tables of his law commanded, That thou shalt do no murder, and wilt thou then Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's? Take heed, for he holds vengeance in his hands, To hurl upon their heads that break his law. And that same vengeance doth he throw on thee, For false forswearing, and for murder too: Thou didst receive the holy sacrament, To fight in quarrel of the house of Lancaster. And like a traitor to the name of God▪ Didst break that vow, and with thy treacherous blade, Vnripst the bowels of thy soueraignes son. Whom thou wert sworn to cherish and defend. How canst thou urge God's dreadful Law to us, When thou hast broke it in so dear degree? Alas, for whose sake did I that ill deed, For Edward, for my brother, for his sake: Why sirs, he sends ye not to murder me for this, For in this sin he is as deep as I: It God will be revenged for this deed. Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm, He needs no indirect, nor lawless course, To cut off those that have offended him. Who made thee then a bloody minister, When gallant springing brave Plantagenet, That Princely Novice was struck dead by thee? My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. Thy brother's love, the devil and thy fault Have brought us hither now to murder thee. Oh if you love my brother, hate not me, I am his brother, and I love him well: If you be hired for meed, go back again, And I will send you to my brother Gloucester, Who will reward you better for my life, Then Edward will for tidings of my death. You are deceived, your brother Gloucester hates you. Oh no, he loves me, and he holds me dear, Go you to him from me. I, so we will. Tell him, when that our princely father York, Blessed his three sons with his victorious arm: And charged us from his soul, to love each other, He little thought of this divided friendship. Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep. I, millstones as he lessoned us to weep. O do not slander him for he is kind. Right as snow in harvest, thou deceivest thyself, 'tis he hath sent us hither now to slaughter thee. It cannot be, for when I parted with him, He hugged me in his arms, and swore with sob●, That he would labour my delivery. Why so he doth, now he delivers thee, From this worlds thraldom, to the joys of heaven, Makes peace with God, for you must die my Lo:
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
What we will doe, we doe vpon command. And he that hath commanded, is the King. Errnious Vassaile, the great King of Kings▪ Hath in the tables of his law commanded, That thou shalt doe no murder, and wilt thou then Spurne at his edict, and fulfill a mans? Take heede, for he holds vengeance in his hands, To hurle vpon their heads that breake his law. And that same vengeance doth he throw on thee, For false forswearing, and for murder too: Thou didst receiue the holy sacrament, To fight in quarell of the house of Lancaster. And like a traitor to the name of God▪ Didst breake that vowe, and with thy trecherous blade, Vnripst the bowels of thy soueraigns sonne. Whom thou wert sworne to cherish and defend. How canst thou vrge Gods dreadfull Law to vs, When thou hast broke it in so deare degree? Alas, for whose sake did I that ill deede, For Edward, for my brother, for his sake: Why sirs, he sends ye not to murder me for this, For in this sinne he is as deepe as I: It God will be reuenged for this deede. Take not the quaell from his powerfull arme, He needes no indirect, nor lawlesse course, To cut off those that haue offended him. Who made thee then a bloudy minister, When gallant springing braue Plantagenet, That Princely Nouice was stroke dead by thee? My brothers loue, the diuell, and my rage. Thy brothers loue, the diuell and thy fault Haue brought vs hither now to murder thee. Oh if you loue my brother, hate not me, I am his brother, and I loue him well: If you be hirde for meede, go backe againe, And I will send you to my brother Glocester, Who will reward you better for my life, Then Edward will for tydings of my death. You are deceiu'd, your brother Glocester hates you. Oh no, he loues me, and he holds me deare, Go you to him from me. I, so we will. Tell him, when that our princely father Yorke, Blest his three sonnes with his victorious arme: And chargd vs from his soule, to loue each other, He little thought of this deuided friendship. Bid Glocester thinke of this, and he will weepe. I, milstones as he lessond vs to weepe. O doe not slaunder him for he is kind. Right as snow in haruest, thou deceiu'st thy selfe, Tis he hah sent vs hither now to slaughter thee. It cannot be, for when I parted with him, He hugd me in his armes, and swore with sob, That he would labour my deliuery. Why so he doth, now he deliuers thee, From this wolds thraldome, to the ioies of heauen, Makes peace with God, for you must die my Lo: