Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1592 [1591-1592] (Annals) tragedy; history · Derby's (Strange's) Men (?) unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 520 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
Either thou wilt dye, by God's just ordinance Ere from this war thou turn a Conqueror: Or I with grief and extreme Age shall perish, And never more behold thy face again. Therefore take with thee my most grievous Curse, Which in the day of Battle tire thee more Than all the complete Armour that thou wear'st. My Prayers on the adverse party fight, And there the little souls of Edward's Children, Whisper the Spirits of thine Enemies, And promise them Success and Victory: Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end: Shame serves thy life, and doth thy death attend. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse Abides in me, I say Amen to her. Stay Madam, I must talk a word with you. I have no more sons of the Royal Blood For thee to slaughter. For my Daughters (Richard) They shall be praying Nuns, not weeping Queens: And therefore level not to hit their lives. You have a daughter called Elizabeth, Virtuous and Fair, Royal and Gracious? And must she dye for this? O let her live, And I'll corrupt her Manners, stain her Beauty, Slander myself, as false to Edward's bed: Throw over her the veil of Infamy, So she may live unscarred of bleeding slaughter, I will confess she was not Edward's daughter. Wrong not her Birth, she is a Royal Princess. To save her life, I'll say she is not so. Her life is safest only in her birth. And only in that safety, died her Brothers. Lo at their Birth, good stars were opposite. No, to their lives, ill friends were contrary. All unavoided is the doom of Destiny. True: when avoided grace makes Destiny. My Babes were destined to a fairer death, If grace had blessed thee with a fairer life. You speak as if that I had slain my Cousins? Cousin's indeed, and by their Uncle cozened, Of Comfort, Kingdom, Kindred, Freedom, Life, Whose hand soever launched their tender hearts, Thy head (all indirectly) gave direction. No doubt the murderous Knife was dull and blunt, Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart, To revel in the Entrails of my Lambs. But that still use of grief, makes wild grief tame, My tongue should to thy ears not name my Boys, Till that my Nails were anchored in thine eyes: And I in such a desperate Bay of death, Like a poor Bark, of sails and tackling rose, Rush all to pieces on thy Rocky bosom. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise And dangerous success of bloody wars, As I intent more good to you and yours, Then ever you and yours by me were harmed. What good is covered with the face of heaven, To be discovered, that can do me good. Th' advancement of your children, gentle Lady up to some Scaffold, there to lose their heads. Unto the dignity and height of Fortune, The high Imperial Type of this earth's glory. Flatter my sorrow with report of it: Tell me, what State, what Dignity, what Honour, Canst thou demise to any child of mine.
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)
Either thou wilt dye, by Gods iuſt ordinance Ere from this warre thou turne a Conqueror: Or I with greefe and extreame Age ſhall periſh, And neuer more behold thy face againe. Therefore take with thee my moſt greeuous Curſe, Which in the day of Battell tyre thee more Then all the compleat Armour that thou wear'ſt. My Prayers on the aduerſe party fight, And there the little ſoules of Edwards Children, Whiſper the Spirits of thine Enemies, And promiſe them Succeſſe and Victory: Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end: Shame ſerues thy life, and doth thy death attend. Though far more cauſe, yet much leſſe ſpirit to curſe Abides in me, I ſay Amen to her. Stay Madam, I muſt talke a word with you. I haue no more ſonnes of the Royall Blood For thee to ſlaughter. For my Daughters (Richard) They ſhall be praying Nunnes, not weeping Queenes: And therefore leuell not to hit their liues. You haue a daughter call'd Elizabeth, Vertuous and Faire, Royall and Gracious? And muſt ſhe dye for this? O let her liue, And Ile corrupt her Manners, ſtaine her Beauty, Slander my Selfe, as falſe to Edwards bed: Throw ouer her the vaile of Infamy, So ſhe may liue vnſcarr'd of bleeding ſlaughter, I will confeſſe ſhe was not Edwards daughter. Wrong not her Byrth, ſhe is a Royall Princeſſe. To ſaue her life, Ile ſay ſhe is not ſo. Her life is ſafeſt onely in her byrth. And onely in that ſafety, dyed her Brothers. Loe at their Birth, good ſtarres were oppoſite. No, to their liues, ill friends were contrary. All vnauoyded is the doome of Deſtiny. True: when auoyded grace makes Deſtiny. My Babes were deſtin'd to a fairer death, If grace had bleſt thee with a fairer life. You ſpeake as if that I had ſlaine my Coſins? Coſins indeed, and by their Vnckle couzend, Of Comfort, Kingdome, Kindred, Freedome, Life, Whoſe hand ſoeuer lanch'd their tender hearts, Thy head (all indirectly) gaue direction. No doubt the murd'rous Knife was dull and blunt, Till it was whetted on thy ſtone-hard heart, To reuell in the Intrailes of my Lambes. But that ſtill vſe of greefe, makes wilde greefe tame, My tongue ſhould to thy eares not name my Boyes, Till that my Nayles were anchor'd in thine eyes: And I in ſuch a deſp'rate Bay of death, Like a poore Barke, of ſailes and tackling roſe, Ruſh all to peeces on thy Rocky boſome. Madam, ſo thriue I in my enterprize And dangerous ſucceſſe of bloody warres, As I intend more good to you and yours, Then euer you and yours by me were harm'd. What good is couer'd with the face of heauen, To be diſcouered, that can do me good. Th' aduancement of your children, gentle Lady Vp to ſome Scaffold, there to loſe their heads. Vnto the dignity and height of Fortune, The high Imperiall Type of this earths glory. Flatter my ſorrow with report of it: Tell me, what State, what Dignity, what Honor, Canſt thou demiſe to any childe of mine.