Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1592 [1591-1592] (Annals) tragedy; history · Derby's (Strange's) Men (?) unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
You may deny that you were not the mean Of my Lord Hastings late imprisonment. She may my Lord, for— She may Lord Rivers, why who knows not so? She may do more sir than denying that: She may help you to many fair preferments, And then deny her aiding hand therein, And lay those Honours on your high desert. What may she not, she may, I marry may she. What marry may she? What marry may she? Marry with a King, A Bachelor, and a handsome stripling too, I wis your Grandam had a worse match. My Lord of Glouster, I have too long borne Your blunt upbraid, and your bitter scoffs: By heaven, I will acquaint his Majesty Of those gross taunts that oft I have endured. I had rather be a Country servant maid Then a great Queen, with this condition, To be so baited, scorned, and stormed at, Small joy have I in being England's Queen. And lessened be that small, God I beseech him, Thy honour, state, and seat, is due to me. What? threat you me with telling of the King? I will avouched in presence of the King: I dare adventure to be sent to th' Tower. 'Tis time to speak, My pains are quite forgot. Out Devil, I do remember them too well: Thou killd'st my Husband Henry in the Tower, And Edward my poor Son, at Tewkesburie. Ere you were Queen, I, or your Husband King: I was a packhorse in his great affairs: A weeder out of his proud Adversaries, A liberal rewarder of his Friends, To royalize his blood, I spent mine own. I and much better blood Than his, or thine. In all which time, you and your Husband Grey Were factious, for the House of Lancaster; And Rivers, so were you: Was not your Husband, In Margaret's Battle, at Saint Albon, slain? Let me put in your minds, if you forget What you have been ere this, and what you are: Withal, what I have been, and what I am. A murderous Villain, and so still thou art. Poor Clarence did forsake his Father Warwick, I, and forswore himself (which Iesu pardon.) Which God revenge. To fight on Edward's party, for the Crown, And for his meed, poor Lord, he is mewed up: I would to God my heart were Flint, like Edward's, Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine; I am too childish foolish for this World. High thee to Hell for shame, & leave this World Thou Cacodaemon, there thy Kingdom is. My Lord of Gloster: in those busy days, Which here you urge, to prove us Enemies, We followed then our Lord, our Sovereign King, So should we you, if you should be our King. If I should be? I had rather be a Pedlar: far be it from my heart, the thought thereof. As little joy (my Lord) as you suppose You should enjoy, were you this Country's King, As little joy you may suppose in me, That I enjoy, being the Queen thereof.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
You may deny that you were not the meane Of my Lord Haſtings late impriſonment. She may my Lord, for— She may Lord Riuers, why who knowes not ſo? She may do more ſir then denying that: She may helpe you to many faire preferments, And then deny her ayding hand therein, And lay thoſe Honors on your high deſert. What may ſhe not, ſhe may, I marry may ſhe. What marry may ſhe? What marrie may ſhe? Marrie with a King, A Batcheller, and a handſome ſtripling too, I wis your Grandam had a worſer match. My Lord of Glouſter, I haue too long borne Your blunt vpbraidings, and your bitter ſcoffes: By heauen, I will acquaint his Maieſtie Of thoſe groſſe taunts that oft I haue endur'd. I had rather be a Countrie ſeruant maide Then a great Queene, with this condition, To be ſo baited, ſcorn'd, and ſtormed at, Small ioy haue I in being Englands Queene. And leſned be that ſmall, God I beſeech him, Thy honor, ſtate, and ſeate, is due to me. What? threat you me with telling of the King? I will auouch't in preſence of the King: I dare aduenture to be ſent to th' Towre. 'Tis time to ſpeake, My paines are quite forgot. Out Diuell, I do remember them too well: Thou killd'ſt my Husband Henrie in the Tower, And Edward my poore Son, at Tewkesburie. Ere you were Queene, I, or your Husband King: I was a packe-horſe in his great affaires: A weeder out of his proud Aduerſaries, A liberall rewarder of his Friends, To royalize his blood, I ſpent mine owne. I and much better blood Then his, or thine. In all which time, you and your Husband Grey Were factious, for the Houſe of Lancaſter; And Riuers, ſo were you: Was not your Husband, In Margarets Battaile, at Saint Albons, ſlaine? Let me put in your mindes, if you forget What you haue beene ere this, and what you are: Withall, what I haue beene, and what I am. A murth'rous Villaine, and ſo ſtill thou art. Poore Clarence did forſake his Father Warwicke, I, and forſwore himſelfe (which Ieſu pardon.) Which God reuenge. To fight on Edwards partie, for the Crowne, And for his meede, poore Lord, he is mewed vp: I would to God my heart were Flint, like Edwards, Or Edwards ſoft and pittifull, like mine; I am too childiſh fooliſh for this World. High thee to Hell for ſhame, & leaue this World Thou Cacodemon, there thy Kingdome is. My Lord of Gloſter: in thoſe buſie dayes, Which here you vrge, to proue vs Enemies, We follow'd then our Lord, our Soueraigne King, So ſhould we you, if you ſhould be our King. If I ſhould be? I had rather be a Pedler: Farre be it from my heart, the thought thereof. As little ioy (my Lord) as you ſuppoſe You ſhould enioy, were you this Countries King, As little ioy you may ſuppoſe in me, That I enioy, being the Queene thereof.