Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1592 [1591-1592] (Annals) tragedy; history · Derby's (Strange's) Men (?) unassigned nearest T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation · 504 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
I cannot make you what amends I would, Therefore accept such kindness as I can. Dorset your Son, that with a fearful soul Leads discontented steps in Foreign soil, This fair Alliance, quickly shall call home To high Promotions, and great Dignity. The King that calls your beauteous Daughter Wife, Familiarly shall call thy Dorset, Brother: Again shall you be Mother to a King: And all the Ruins of distressful Times, Repaired with double Riches of Content. What? we have many goodly days to see: The liquid drops of Tears that you have shed, Shall come again, transformed to Orient Pearl, Aduantaging their Love, with interest Oftentimes double gain of happiness. Go then (my Mother) to thy Daughter go, Make bold her bashful years, with your experience, Prepare her ears to hear a Wooers Tale. Put in her tender heart, th' aspiring Flame Of Golden Sovereignty: Acquaint the Princess With the sweet silent hours of Marriage joys: And when this Arm of mine hath chastised The petty Rebel, dull-brained Buckingham, Bound with Triumphant Garlands will I come, And lead thy daughter to a Conqueror's bed: To whom I will retail my Conquest won, And she shallbe sole Victoresse, Caesar's Caesar. What were I best to say, her Father's Brother Would be her Lord? Or shall I say her Uncle? Or he that slew her Brothers, and her Uncles? Under what Title shall I woe for thee, That God, the Law, my Honour, and her Love, Can make seem pleasing to her tender years? Infer fair England's peace by this Alliance. Which she shall purchase with still lasting war. Tell her, the King that may command, entreats. That at her hands, which the king's King forbids. Say she shall be a High and Mighty Queen. To veil the Title, as her Mother doth. Say I will love her everlastingly. But how long shall that title ever last? Sweetly in force, unto her fair life's end. But how long fairly shall her sweet life last? As long as Heaven and Nature lengthens it. As long as Hell and Richard likes of it. Say, I her Sovereign, am her Subject low. But she your Subject, loathes such Sovereignty. Be eloquent in my behalf to her. An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told. Then plainly to her, tell my loving tale. Plain and not honest, is too harsh a style. Your Reasons are too shallow, and to quick. O no, my Reasons are too deep and dead, Too deep and dead (poor Infants) in their graves, Harp on it still shall I, till heartstrings break. Harp not on that string Madam, that is past. Now by my George, my Garter, and my Crown. Profaned, dishonoured, and the third usurped. I swear. By nothing, for this is no Oath: Thy George profaned, hath lost his Lordly Honour; Thy Garter blemished, pawned his Knightly Virtue; Thy Crown usurped, disgraced his Kingly Glory: If something thou wouldst swear to be believed, Swear then by something, that thou hast not wronged.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T9 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I cannot make you what amends I would, Therefore accept ſuch kindneſſe as I can. Dorſet your Sonne, that with a fearfull ſoule Leads diſcontented ſteppes in Forraine ſoyle, This faire Alliance, quickly ſhall call home To high Promotions, and great Dignity. The King that calles your beauteous Daughter Wife, Familiarly ſhall call thy Dorſet, Brother: Againe ſhall you be Mother to a King: And all the Ruines of diſtreſſefull Times, Repayr'd with double Riches of Content. What? we haue many goodly dayes to ſee: The liquid drops of Teares that you haue ſhed, Shall come againe, transform'd to Orient Pearle, Aduantaging their Loue, with intereſt Often-times double gaine of happineſſe. Go then (my Mother) to thy Daughter go, Make bold her baſhfull yeares, with your experience, Prepare her eares to heare a Woers Tale. Put in her tender heart, th' aſpiring Flame Of Golden Soueraignty: Acquaint the Princeſſe With the ſweet ſilent houres of Marriage ioyes: And when this Arme of mine hath chaſtiſed The petty Rebell, dull-brain'd Buckingham, Bound with Triumphant Garlands will I come, And leade thy daughter to a Conquerors bed: To whom I will retaile my Conqueſt wonne, And ſhe ſhalbe ſole Victoreſſe, Caeſars Caeſar. What were I beſt to ſay, her Fathers Brother Would be her Lord? Or ſhall I ſay her Vnkle? Or he that ſlew her Brothers, and her Vnkles? Vnder what Title ſhall I woo for thee, That God, the Law, my Honor, and her Loue, Can make ſeeme pleaſing to her tender yeares? Inferre faire Englands peace by this Alliance. Which ſhe ſhall purchaſe with ſtil laſting warre. Tell her, the King that may command, intreats. That at her hands, which the kings King forbids. Say ſhe ſhall be a High and Mighty Queene. To vaile the Title, as her Mother doth. Say I will loue her euerlaſtingly. But how long ſhall that title euer laſt? Sweetly in force, vnto her faire liues end. But how long fairely ſhall her ſweet life laſt? As long as Heauen and Nature lengthens it. As long as Hell and Richard likes of it. Say, I her Soueraigne, am her Subiect low. But ſhe your Subiect, lothes ſuch Soueraignty. Be eloquent in my behalfe to her. An honeſt tale ſpeeds beſt, being plainly told. Then plainly to her, tell my louing tale. Plaine and not honeſt, is too harſh a ſtyle. Your Reaſons are too ſhallow, and to quicke. O no, my Reaſons are too deepe and dead, Too deepe and dead (poore Infants) in their graues, Harpe on it ſtill ſhall I, till heart-ſtrings breake. Harpe not on that ſtring Madam, that is paſt. Now by my George, my Garter, and my Crowne. Prophan'd, diſhonor'd, and the third vſurpt. I ſweare. By nothing, for this is no Oath: Thy George prophan'd, hath loſt his Lordly Honor; Thy Garter blemiſh'd, pawn'd his Knightly Vertue; Thy Crowne vſurp'd, diſgrac'd his Kingly Glory: If ſomething thou would'ſt ſweare to be beleeu'd, Sweare then by ſomething, that thou haſt not wrong'd.