Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1592 [1591-1592] (Annals) tragedy; history · Derby's (Strange's) Men (?) unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 513 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Have done, have done. O Princely Buckingham, I'll kiss thy hand, In sign of League and amity with thee: Now fair befall thee, and thy Noble house: Thy Garments are not spotted with our blood: Nor thou within the compass of my curse. Nor no one here: for Curses never pass The lips of those that breath them in the air. I will not think but they ascend the sky, And there awake Gods gentle sleeping peace. O Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog: Look when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites, His venom tooth will rankle to the death. Have not to do with him, beware of him, Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him, And all their Ministers attend on him. What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham. Nothing that I respect my gracious Lord. What dost thou scorn me For my gentle counsel? And soothe the devil that I warn thee from. O but remember this another day: When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow: And say (poor Margaret) was a Prophetess: Live each of you the subjects to his hate, And he to yours, and all of you to Gods. My hair doth stand an end to hear her curses. And so doth mine, I muse why she's at liberty. I cannot blame her, by God's holy mother, She hath had too much wrong, and I repent My part thereof, that I have done to her. I never did her any to my knowledge. Yet you have all the vantage of her wrong: I was too hot, to do somebody good, That is too cold in thinking of it now: Marry as for Clarence, he is well repaid: He is franked up to fatting for his pains, God pardon them, that are the cause thereof. A virtuous, and a Christianlike conclusion To pray for them that have done scathe to us. So do I ever, being well advised. For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself. Madam, his Majesty doth call for you, And for your Grace, and yours my gracious Lord. Catesby I come, Lords will you go with me. We wait upon your Grace. I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. The secret Mischiefs that I set abroach, I lay unto the grievous charge of others. Clarence, who I indeed have cast in darkness, I do beweep to many simple Gulls, Namely to Derby, Hastings, Buckingham, And tell them 'tis the Queen, and her Allies, That stir the King against the Duke my Brother. Now they believe it, and withal whet me To be revenged on Rivers, Dorset, Grey. But then I sigh, and with a piece of Scripture, Tell them that God bids us do good for evil: And thus I cloth my naked Villainy With odd old ends, stolen forth of holy Writ, And seem a Saint, when most I play the devil. But soft, here come my Executioners, How now my hardy stout resolved Mates, Are you now going to dispatch this thing?
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)
Haue done, haue done. O Princely Buckingham, Ile kiſſe thy hand, In ſigne of League and amity with thee: Now faire befall thee, and thy Noble houſe: Thy Garments are not ſpotted with our blood: Nor thou within the compaſſe of my curſe. Nor no one heere: for Curſes neuer paſſe The lips of thoſe that breath them in the ayre. I will not thinke but they aſcend the sky, And there awake Gods gentle ſleeping peace. O Buckingham, take heede of yonder dogge: Looke when he fawnes, he bites; and when he bites, His venom tooth will rankle to the death. Haue not to do with him, beware of him, Sinne, death, and hell haue ſet their markes on him, And all their Miniſters attend on him. What doth ſhe ſay, my Lord of Buckingham. Nothing that I reſpect my gracious Lord. What doſt thou ſcorne me For my gentle counſell? And ſooth the diuell that I warne thee from. O but remember this another day: When he ſhall ſplit thy very heart with ſorrow: And ſay (poore Margaret) was a Propheteſſe: Liue each of you the ſubiects to his hate, And he to yours, and all of you to Gods. My haire doth ſtand an end to heare her curſes. And ſo doth mine, I muſe why ſhe's at libertie. I cannot blame her, by Gods holy mother, She hath had too much wrong, and I repent My part thereof, that I haue done to her. I neuer did her any to my knowledge. Yet you haue all the vantage of her wrong: I was too hot, to do ſomebody good, That is too cold in thinking of it now: Marry as for Clarence, he is well repayed: He is frank'd vp to fatting for his paines, God pardon them, that are the cauſe thereof. A vertuous, and a Chriſtian-like concluſion To pray for them that haue done ſcath to vs. So do I euer, being well aduis'd. For had I curſt now, I had curſt my ſelfe. Madam, his Maieſty doth call for you, And for your Grace, and yours my gracious Lord. Catesby I come, Lords will you go with mee. We wait vpon your Grace. I do the wrong, and firſt begin to brawle. The ſecret Miſcheefes that I ſet abroach, I lay vnto the greeuous charge of others. Clarence, who I indeede haue caſt in darkneſſe, I do beweepe to many ſimple Gulles, Namely to Derby, Haſtings, Buckingham, And tell them 'tis the Queene, and her Allies, That ſtirre the King againſt the Duke my Brother. Now they beleeue it, and withall whet me To be reueng'd on Riuers, Dorſet, Grey. But then I ſigh, and with a peece of Scripture, Tell them that God bids vs do good for euill: And thus I cloath my naked Villanie With odde old ends, ſtolne forth of holy Writ, And ſeeme a Saint, when moſt I play the deuill. But ſoft, heere come my Executioners, How now my hardy ſtout reſolued Mates, Are you now going to diſpatch this thing?