Shakespeare, William · published 1597 · first performed or written 1592 [1591-1592] (Annals) tragedy; history · Derby's (Strange's) Men (?) T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.73 · 511 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
A and did they so? No so God help me, But like dumb 〈◊〉 or breathing stones, Gazed each on other and looked deadly pale: Which when I saw▪ I reprehended them, And asked the Mayor, what meant this wilful silence? His answer was, the people were not wont To be spoke to, but by the Recorder. Then he was urged to tell my tale again: Thus, saith the Duke, thus hath the Duke inferred: But nothing spoke in warrant from himself: When he had done, some followers of mine own At the lower end of the Hall, hurled up their caps, And some ten voices cried, God save King Richard. Thanks loving Citizens and friends quoth I, This general applause and loving shout, Argues your wisdoms and your love to Richard: And so broke off and came away. What tongueless blocks were they, would they not speak? No by my troth my Lo: Will not the Mayor then, and his brethren come. The Mayor is here at hand, and intent some fear. Be not spoken withal, but with mighty suit: And look you get a prayer book in your hand, And stand betwixt two churchmen good my Lo: For on that ground I'll build a holy descant: Be not easily won to our request: Play the maids part, say no, but take it. Fear not me, if thou canst plead aswell for them, As I can say nay to thee, for myself? No doubt we'll bring it to a happy issue. You shall see what I can do, get you up to the leads. Now my L. Mayor, I dance attendance hear, I think the Duke will not be spoke withal. Here comes his servant: how now Catesby what says he. My Lord, he doth entreat your grace To visit him to morrow or next day, He is within with two right reverend fathers, Divinely bend to meditation, And in no worldly suit would he be moved, To draw him from his holy exercise. Return good Catesby to thy Lord again, Tell him myself, the Mayor and Citizens, In deep designs and matters of great moment, No less importing then our general good, Are come to have some conference with his grace. I'll tell him what you say my Lord. Aha my Lord this prince is not an Edward: He is not lulling on a lewd day bed, But on his knees at meditation: Not dallying with a brace of Courtesans, But meditating with two deep Divines: Not sleeping to engross his idle body, But praying to enrich his watchful soul. Happy were England, would this gracious prince Take on himself the sovereignty thereon, But sure I fear we shall never win him to it. Marry God forbidden his grace should say us nay. I fear he will, how now Catesby, What says your Lord? My Lo. he wonders to what end, you have assembled Such troops of Citizens to speak with him, His grace not being warned thereof before, My Lord, he fears you mean no good to him.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 2000–2063 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 33 of 54 in this edition
Length
511 words · 651 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T0 — Court life: dukes, favour and honourcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.729 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
A and did they so? No so God helpe me, But like dumbe or breathing stones, Gazde each on other and lookt deadly pale: Which when I saw▪ I reprehended them, And askt the Maior, what meant this wilfull silence? His answere was, the people were not wont To be spoke to, but by the Recorder. Then he was vrgde to tell my tale againe: Thus, saith the Duke, thus hath the Duke inferd: But nothing spake in warrant from himselfe: When he had done, some followers of mine owne At the lower end of the Hall, hurld vp their caps, And some ten voices cried, God saue King Richard. Thankes louing Cittizens and friends quoth I, This generall applause and louing shoute, Argues your wisedomes and your loue to Richard: And so brake off and came away. What tonglesse blockes were they, would they not speake? No by my troth my Lo: Will not the Maior then, and his brethren come. The Maior is here at hand, and intend some feare. Be not spoken withall, but with mighty suite: And looke you get a praier booke in your hand, And stand betwixt two churchmen good my Lo: For on that ground Ile build a holy descant: Be not easily wonne to our request: Play the maides part, say no, but take it. Feare not me, if thou canst pleade aswell for them, As I can say nay to thee, for my selfe? No doubt weele bring it to a happie issue. You shal see what I can do, get you vp to the leads. Now my L. Maior, I dance attendance heare, I thinke the Duke will not be spoke withall. Here coms his seruant: how now Catesby what saies he. My Lord, he doth intreat your grace To visit him to morrow or next daie, He is within with two right reuerend fathers, Diuinely bent to meditation, And in no worly suite would he be mou'd, To draw him from his holy exercise. Returne good Catesby to thy Lord againe, Tell him my selfe, the Maior and Cittizens, In deepe designes and matters of great moment, No lesse importing then our generall good, Are come to haue some conference with his grace. Ile tell him what you say my Lord. Aha my Lord this prince is not an Edward: He is not lulling on a lewd day bed, But on his knees at meditation: Not dalying with a brace of Curtizans, But meditating with two deepe Diuines: Not sleeping to ingrosse his idle body, But praying to inrich his watchfull soule. Happy wre England, would this gracious prince Take on himselfe the souerainty thereon, But sure I feare we shall neuer winne him to it. Marry God forbid his grace should say vs nay. I feare he wil, how now Catesby, What saies your Lord? My Lo. he wonders to what end, you haue assembled Such troupes of Cittizens to speake with him, His grace not being warnd thereof before, My Lord, he feares you meane no good to him.