Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1592 [1591-1592] (Annals) tragedy; history · Derby's (Strange's) Men (?) unassigned nearest T27 Uncles, nephews and cousins: kinship and · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T27: uncle, niece, nephew, gentlemen, faith, cousin, wife, house, gentleman, money.
Then he is more beholding to you, than I. He may command me as my Sovereign, But you have power in me, as in a Kinsman. I pray you, Uncle, give me this Dagger. My Dagger, little Cousin? with all my heart. A Beggar, Brother? Of my kind Uncle, that I know will give, And being but a Toy, which is no grief to give. A greater gift than that, I'll give my Cousin. A greater gift? O, that's the Sword to it. I, gentle Cousin, were it light enough. O than I see, you will part but with light gifts, In weightier things you'll say a Beggar nay. It is too weighty for your Grace to wear. I weigh it lightly, were it heavier. What, would you have my Weapon, little Lord? I would that I might thank you, as, as, you call me. How? Little. My Lord of York will still be cross in talk: Uncle, your Grace knows how to bear with him. You mean to bear me, not to bear with me: Uncle, my Brother mocks both you and me, Because that I am little, like an Ape, He thinks that you should bear me on your shoulders. With what a sharp provided wit he reasons: To mitigate the scorn he gives his Uncle, He prettily and aptly taunts himself: So cunning, and so young, is wonderful. My Lord, wilt please you pass along? Myself, and my good Cousin Buckingham, Will to your Mother, to entreat of her To meet you at the Tower, and welcome you. What, will you go unto the Tower, my Lord? My Lord Protector will have it so. I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower. Why, what should you fear? Marry, my Uncle Clarence angry Ghost: My Grandam told me he was murdered there. I fear no Uncles dead. Nor none that live, I hope. And if they live, I hope I need not fear. But come my Lord: and with a heavy heart, Thinking on them, go I unto the Tower. Think you, my Lord, this little prating York Was not incensed by his subtle Mother, To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously? No doubt, no doubt: Oh 'tis a perilous Boy, Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable: He is all the Mothers, from the top to toe. Well, let them rest: Come hither Catesby, Thou art sworn as deeply to effect what we intent, As closely to conceal what we impart: Thou knowst our reasons urged upon the way. What thinkest thou? is it not an easy matter, To make William Lord Hastings of our mind, For the instalment of this Noble Duke In the Seat Royal of this famous Isle? He for his father's sake so loves the Prince, That he will not be won to aught against him. What thinkest thou then of Stanley? Will not he? He will do all in all as Hastings doth.
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)
Then he is more beholding to you, then I. He may command me as my Soueraigne, But you haue power in me, as in a Kinſman. I pray you, Vnckle, giue me this Dagger. My Dagger, little Couſin? with all my heart. A Begger, Brother? Of my kind Vnckle, that I know will giue, And being but a Toy, which is no griefe to giue. A greater gift then that, Ile giue my Couſin. A greater gift? O, that's the Sword to it. I, gentle Couſin, were it light enough. O then I ſee, you will part but with light gifts, In weightier things you'le ſay a Begger nay. It is too weightie for your Grace to weare. I weigh it lightly, were it heauier. What, would you haue my Weapon, little Lord? I would that I might thanke you, as, as, you call me. How? Little. My Lord of Yorke will ſtill be croſſe in talke: Vnckle, your Grace knowes how to beare with him. You meane to beare me, not to beare with me: Vnckle, my Brother mockes both you and me, Becauſe that I am little, like an Ape, He thinkes that you ſhould beare me on your ſhoulders. With what a ſharpe prouided wit he reaſons: To mittigate the ſcorne he giues his Vnckle, He prettily and aptly taunts himſelfe: So cunning, and ſo young, is wonderfull. My Lord, wilt pleaſe you paſſe along? My ſelfe, and my good Couſin Buckingham, Will to your Mother, to entreat of her To meet you at the Tower, and welcome you. What, will you goe vnto the Tower, my Lord? My Lord Protector will haue it ſo. I ſhall not ſleepe in quiet at the Tower. Why, what ſhould you feare? Marry, my Vnckle Clarence angry Ghoſt: My Grandam told me he was murther'd there. I feare no Vnckles dead. Nor none that liue, I hope. And if they liue, I hope I need not feare. But come my Lord: and with a heauie heart, Thinking on them, goe I vnto the Tower. Thinke you, my Lord, this little prating Yorke Was not incenſed by his ſubtile Mother, To taunt and ſcorne you thus opprobriouſly? No doubt, no doubt: Oh 'tis a perillous Boy, Bold, quicke, ingenious, forward, capable: Hee is all the Mothers, from the top to toe. Well, let them reſt: Come hither Catesby, Thou art ſworne as deepely to effect what we intend, As cloſely to conceale what we impart: Thou know'ſt our reaſons vrg'd vpon the way. What think'ſt thou? is it not an eaſie matter, To make William Lord Haſtings of our minde, For the inſtallment of this Noble Duke In the Seat Royall of this famous Ile? He for his fathers ſake ſo loues the Prince, That he will not be wonne to ought againſt him. What think'ſt thou then of Stanley? Will not hee? Hee will doe all in all as Haſtings doth.