Shakespeare, William · published 1598 · first performed or written 1597 [c.1596-1597] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T42 English historical figures: a mixed clus typicality 0.90 · 507 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T42: harry, percy, lord, king, god, falstalffe, frances, mowbray, life, mortimer.
Thy state is taken for a joined stool, thy golden sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich crown for a pitiful bald crown. Well, and the fire of grace be not quite out of thee now shalt thou be moved. Give me a cup of Sack to make my eyes look red, that it may be thought I have wept, for I must speak in passion, and I will do it in king Cambyses vain. Well, here is my leg. And here is my speech; stand aside Nobility. O Iesu, this is excellent sport i'faith. Weep not sweet Queen, for trickling tears are vain. O the father, how he holds his countenance? For God's sake Lords, convey my trustful Queen, For tears do stop the floudgates of her eyes. O Iesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry players as ever I see. Peace good pint-pot, peace good tickle-braine. Harrie, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied. For though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows: so youth the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears: that thou art my son I have partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion, but chiefly a villainous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy neither lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point, why being son to me, art thou so pointed at? shall the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher, and eat blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall the son of England prove a thief, and take purses? a question to be asked. There is a thing Harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it is known to many in our land by the name of pitch. This pitch (as ancient writers do report) doth defile, so doth the company thou keepest: for Harrie, now I do not speak to thee in drink, but in tears; not in pleasure but in passion: not in words only, but in woes also: and yet there is a virtuous man, whom I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name. What manner of man and it like your Majesty? A goodly portly man i'faith, and a corpulent of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage, and as I think his age some fifty, or birladie inclining to threescore, and now I remember me, his name is Falstalffe, if that man should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me. For Harry, I see virtue in his looks: if then the tree may be known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that Falstalffe, him keep with the rest banish, and tell me now thou naughty varlet, tell me where hast thou been this month? Dost thou speak like a king, do thou stand for me, and i'll play my father.
seed 43: T43 · seed 44: T43 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Thy state is taken for a ioynd stoole, thy golden scepter for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich crowne for a pittifull bald crowne. Well, and the fire of grace bee not quite out of thee nowe shalt thou be mooued. Giue me a cup of Sacke to make my eyes looke redde, that it maie bee thought I haue wept, for I must speake in passion, and I will doe it in king Cambises vaine. Well, here is my leg. And here is my speech; stand aside Nobilitie. O Iesu, this is excellent sport ifaith. Weepe not sweet Queene, for trickling teares are vain. O the father, how he holds his countenance? For Gods sake Lords, conuay my trustfull Queene, For teares do stop the floudgates of her eyes. O Iesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotrie plaiers as euer I see. Peace good pint-pot, peace good tickle-braine. Harrie, I doe not onelie maruaile where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied. For though the cammomill, the more it is troden on, the faster it growes: so youth the more it is wasted, the sooner it weares: that thou art my son I haue partly thy mothers worde, partlie my owne opinion, but chieflie a villainous tricke of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy neather lippe, that dooth warrant me. If then thou bee sonne to mee, heere lies the poynt, why beeing sonne to me, art thou so pointed at? shal the blessed sunne of heauen proue a micher, and eat black-berries? a question not to be askt. Shall the sonne of England proue a theefe, and take purses? a question to be askt. There is a thing Harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it is knowne to many in our land by the name of pitch. This pitch (as ancient writers do report) doth defile, so doth the companie thou keepest: for Harrie, now I do not speake to thee in drinke, but in teares; not in pleasure but in passion: not in words onely, but in woes also: and yet there is a vertuous man, whom I haue often noted in thy companie, but I know not his name. What maner of man and it like your Maiestie? A goodly portly man ifayth, and a corpulent of a cheerful looke▪ a pleasing eie, and a most noble cariage, and as I thinke his age some fiftie, or birladie inclining to threescore, and nowe I remember me, his name is Falstalffe, if that man shoulde bee lewdly giuen, hee deceiueth me. For Harry, I see vertue in his lookes: if then the tree may bee knowne by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then peremptorily I speake it, there is vertue in that Falstalffe, him keepe with the rest banish, and tell me now thou naughtie varlet, tell me where hast thou beene this month? Dost thou speake like a king, do thou stand for me, and ile play my father.