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 · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
Even that (I hope) which pleaseth God above, And all good men, of this ungoverned I'll. I do suspect I have done some offence, That seems disgracious in the City's eye, And that you come to reprehend my ignorance. You have, my Lord: Would it might please your Grace, On our entreaties, to amend your fault. Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian Land. Know then, it is your fault, that you resign The Supreme Seat, the Throne Majestical, The Sceptred Office of your Ancestors, Your State of Fortune, and your Dew of Birth, The Lineal Glory of your Royal House, To the corruption of a blemished Stock; Whiles in the mildness of your sleepy thoughts, Which here we waken to our Country's good, The Noble I'll doth want his proper Limbs: His Face defaced with scars of Infamy, His Royal Stock grafft with ignoble Plants, And almost shouldered in the swallowing Gulf Of dark Forgetfulness, and deep Oblivion. Which to recure, we hearty solicit Your gracious self to take on you the charge And Kingly Government of this your Land: Not as Protector, Steward, Substitute, Or lowly Factor, for another's gain; But as successively, from Blood to Blood, Your Right of Birth, your Empire, your own. For this, consorted with the Citizens, Your very Worshipful and loving friends, And by their vehement instigation, In this just Cause come I to move your Grace. I cannot tell, if to departed in silence, Or bitterly to speak in your reproof, Best fitteth my Degree, or your Condition. If not to answer, you might haply think, Tongue-tied Ambition, not replying, yielded To bear the Golden Yoke of Sovereignty, Which fond you would here impose on me. If to reprove you for this suit of yours, So seasoned with your faithful love to me, Then on the other side I checked my friends. Therefore to speak, and to avoid the first, And then in speaking, not to incur the last, Definitively thus I answer you. Your love deserves my thankes, but my desert Vnmeritable, shuns your high request. First, if all Obstacles were cut away, And that my Path were even to the Crown, As the ripe Revenue, and due of Birth: Yet so much is my poverty of spirit, So mighty, and so many my defects, That I would rather hide me from my Greatness, Being a Bark to brook no mighty Sea; Then in my Greatness covet to be hid, And in the vapour of my Glory smothered. But God be thanked, there is no need of me, And much I need to help you, were there need: The Royal Tree hath left us Royal Fruit, Which mellowed by the stealing hours of time, Will well become the Seat of Majesty, And make (no doubt) us happy by his Reign. On him I lay that, you would lay on me, The Right and Fortune of his happy Stars, Which God defend that I should wring from him.
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)
Euen that (I hope) which pleaſeth God aboue, And all good men, of this vngouern'd Ile. I doe ſuſpect I haue done ſome offence, That ſeemes diſgracious in the Cities eye, And that you come to reprehend my ignorance. You haue, my Lord: Would it might pleaſe your Grace, On our entreaties, to amend your fault. Elſe wherefore breathe I in a Chriſtian Land. Know then, it is your fault, that you reſigne The Supreme Seat, the Throne Maieſticall, The Sceptred Office of your Anceſtors, Your State of Fortune, and your Deaw of Birth, The Lineall Glory of your Royall Houſe, To the corruption of a blemiſht Stock; Whiles in the mildneſſe of your ſleepie thoughts, Which here we waken to our Countries good, The Noble Ile doth want his proper Limmes: His Face defac'd with skarres of Infamie, His Royall Stock grafft with ignoble Plants, And almoſt ſhouldred in the ſwallowing Gulfe Of darke Forgetfulneſſe, and deepe Obliuion. Which to recure, we heartily ſolicite Your gracious ſelfe to take on you the charge And Kingly Gouernment of this your Land: Not as Protector, Steward, Subſtitute, Or lowly Factor, for anothers gaine; But as ſucceſſiuely, from Blood to Blood, Your Right of Birth, your Empyrie, your owne. For this, conſorted with the Citizens, Your very Worſhipfull and louing friends, And by their vehement inſtigation, In this iuſt Cauſe come I to moue your Grace. I cannot tell, if to depart in ſilence, Or bitterly to ſpeake in your reproofe, Beſt fitteth my Degree, or your Condition. If not to anſwer, you might haply thinke, Tongue-ty'd Ambition, not replying, yeelded To beare the Golden Yoake of Soueraigntie, Which fondly you would here impoſe on me. If to reproue you for this ſuit of yours, So ſeaſon'd with your faithfull loue to me, Then on the other ſide I check'd my friends. Therefore to ſpeake, and to auoid the firſt, And then in ſpeaking, not to incurre the laſt, Definitiuely thus I anſwer you. Your loue deſerues my thankes, but my deſert Vnmeritable, ſhunnes your high requeſt. Firſt, if all Obſtacles were cut away, And that my Path were euen to the Crowne, As the ripe Reuenue, and due of Birth: Yet ſo much is my pouertie of ſpirit, So mightie, and ſo manie my defects, That I would rather hide me from my Greatneſſe, Being a Barke to brooke no mightie Sea; Then in my Greatneſſe couet to be hid, And in the vapour of my Glory ſmother'd. But God be thank'd, there is no need of me, And much I need to helpe you, were there need: The Royall Tree hath left vs Royall Fruit, Which mellow'd by the ſtealing howres of time, Will well become the Seat of Maieſtie, And make (no doubt) vs happy by his Reigne. On him I lay that, you would lay on me, The Right and Fortune of his happie Starres, Which God defend that I ſhould wring from him.